Neal Shusterman's Blog, page 118
October 20, 2014
Signed Book Giveaway
Write a review of Undivided on Amazon or Barnes & Noble (links below) and you'll be entered to win an autographed book of your choice. In order to be eligible, you must have read UnDivided, and your review needs to be at least three sentences long. And please, no spoilers!
This giveaway is for U.S. residents only. If you are under 18, you must have a parent or guardian claim the prize on your behalf. I'll announce the 3 winners this Friday, Oct 24, on my Facebook page.
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Once you've published your review, comment on Facebook or tweet me so I can see who's entered.
UnDivided Is Out Now
From Simon & Schuster:
Proactive Citizenry, the company that created Cam from the parts of unwound teens, has a plan: to mass produce rewound teens like Cam for military purposes. And below the surface of that horror lies another shocking level of intrigue: Proactive Citizenry has been suppressing technology that could make unwinding completely unnecessary. As Conner, Risa, and Lev uncover these startling secrets, enraged teens begin to march on Washington to demand justice and a better future.
But more trouble is brewing. Starkey’s group of storked teens is growing more powerful and militant with each new recruit. And if they have their way, they’ll burn the harvest camps to the ground and put every adult in them before a firing squad—which could destroy any chance America has for a peaceful future.
Check out the trailer here.
Get it at...
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Your local bookseller
October 19, 2013
The UnWind Dystology Book #3 UnSouled is out!
http://authors.simonandschuster.com/N...
Also, if you haven't liked me on Facebook, you're missing out on your chance to be a named character in an upcoming book and book giveaways.
https://www.facebook.com/nealshusterman
October 8, 2013
UnSouled!
Countdown to UnSouled is t-minus 7 days!
www.storyman.com
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In other news, I will be running a week long "boot camp" for writers with nationally renowned writing coach (and my co-author for TESLA'S ATTIC) Eric Elfman!
When: Jan 26 - Feb 2
Where: Onboard the ALLURE OF THE SEAS - Royal Caribbean's spectacular flagship, and world's largest cruise ship!
For more info, e-mail [email protected]. We only have room for 25, and we're already at 16, even without any advertising, so if you're interested -- or know someone who might be interested, let us know right away! (sorry, but it's 18+ only a workshop for 13-18 will be coming next year.
July 26, 2012
UnStrung!
For the longest time, people have been asking me what happened to Lev in UNWIND between the time he left CyFi, and turned up at the graveyard. What was it that turned him into a clapper? Since I chose not to deal with it in the book, my answer basically was “nasty stuff,” and left it to the imagination of readers. But I became curious myself.
When Simon and Schuster asked me to write a story to bridge UNWIND and UnWHOLLY, I knew I wanted to tell Lev’s story. But now I had to actually come up with one! “Nasty stuff,” just didn’t cut it anymore.
Since I had deadlines mounting up, I knew I didn’t have the time to write the story alone, so I asked my friend, and fellow author Michelle Knowlden to work with me on it. We had, more than ten years ago, collaborated on an “X-Files” novel called “DARK MATTER.” Writing with her was a great experience, and we worked together well. I also suspected her style and writing sensibilities would mesh well with the tone of the Unwind world. I was right!
Michelle Knowlden
UNSTRUNG takes place on an Indian reservation. In the Unwind world, the new politically-correct term for Native Americans is “People of Chance,” or “Chancefolk.” We were playing with the idea of Indian casinos, and how, in future years, it will have subtly shaped those cultures. The “Rez” is far less dystopian than the outside world. They’ve resisted unwinding, and have managed to find a balance between tradition, and the modern world.
The trick was sending Lev on a journey that would bring him to a place that he would seriously consider becoming a “clapper.” What is it that turns a once-innocent kid into a suicide terrorist? Michelle and I gave this a lot of thought, and came up with a story featuring Lev and a gifted guitar-playing Native American kid. The story is compelling, very real, and very much an UNWIND story. I won’t give you any spoilers here, but will tell you that Lev meets some new characters who not only play a part in this story, but in UnWholly, and the third UNWIND book as well. (And when I say “part,” in one instance I really do mean “part!”)
We wrote the story in Google docs, both of us working in the manuscript simultaneously – it was a fantastic process to do a real-time collaboration online, from two separate places. What began as a short story evolved into a full-fledged novella of 62 pages!
I hope you enjoy UnStrung. Here’s a link to buy it for Kindle,
and a link to buy it for Nook,
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/unstrung-neal-shusterman/1111637917
and for apple http://bit.ly/QhMnds . The cost is $1.99 And if you like it, I hope you’ll let your friends know, and post a review!
March 18, 2012
CyFi Meets Reality in Joplin
Last May, the town of Joplin, Missouri, was hit by one of the worst tornados in US history — An EF-5 that tore through the middle of town, leaving a path of destruction a mile wide, and five miles long. I mean, there was virtually nothing left standing in the tornado zone, because is moved so slowly over the town. Entire neighborhoods were wiped out. A middle school and high school were lost. Hundreds of residents were killed – many who were caught off guard, because there was just a little bit of warning – but even with warning, in the path of a such a destructive force of nature, there wasn't much more anyone could do beyond getting into their basements and cellars, and praying.
I have an odd connection to Joplin. It's the town in Unwind that the character CyFi is trying to get to. Joplin is home for the unwound kid in his head. The town becomes the focal point for one of the most pivotal scenes for the book. I had never been there, and the reason I chose it was, like the tornado itself, pretty random. I needed a town in that general area, so I settled on Joplin, and did as much research as I could on the town, including familiarizing myself with the high school mascot, and which sports teams were the most successful. I had a fictional connection to Joplin, but fiction often feels very real.
When I heard about the disaster my heart went out to the people of Joplin. Usually I wait for invitations for author visits, but this time, just as school started in August, I sent out e-mails to all the school librarians in Joplin, asking if they would like an author visit, free of charge. Within hours I had responses from several of them saying they would love me to come, so we worked it out, and I spent a day in Joplin a few weeks ago.
I was met at the airport by Cari Rerat, the public library's teen librarian. Cari's home had been right in the tornado's path.
"We heard the sirens, and went down into our basement. When we came out, our entire neighborhood was gone," she told me. "What was left of the neighbor's house had been dropped on top of my car, in a very Oz-like way, and our house didn't have a single external wall left."
I could only stare dumbfounded, unable to imagine how it must feel to have your world literally torn away around you.
Cari, and school librarian Debbie Heim spent the following day shuttling me to four schools and the public library, for a total of six presentations. I have to tell you, I have never been so well received, and have never felt so rewarded as I did speaking to the kids of Joplin.
The high school population was divided, and relocated to an empty mall department store, and an older vacant school building downtown. The lost middle school was relocated to another temporary location, but otherwise it was business as usual. Life and learning goes on.
Debbie drove me through the tornado zone. Even though much of the rubble had been removed, the sheer scope of this swath of devastation is impossible to convey. She took me past the ruins of the high school – which was still being demolished. It was hard not to get emotional. Out front, the broken school sign had several iron letters missing from it. It said. "__OP__ HIGH SCHOOL." Some one had painted in an H, and an E, so it read "HOPE HIGH SCHOOL." I still get choked up thinking about it.
I heard many stories of tragedy and survival – but there was one thread that ran through all of it – Selflessness. The people of Joplin were not crushed by this crushing event, instead they rose up, and helped one another. It set the entire tone of the disaster relief effort – people coming from all over the nation to do whatever they could to help. I have never seen so much courage and strength shown in the face of misfortune.
Before I left, I was given, as a souvenir, a brick from the high school. It now occupies a place of honor on my special keepsake shelf, beside my piece of the Berlin Wall.
I found myself deeply inspired by the folks of Joplin. Visiting was an experience I will never forget.
November 14, 2011
Bedside Vigil…
Last Saturday I received a call as I was getting dressed to head to an awards banquet, where UNWIND was being honored. It was my father. Right away, I could hear in my father's voice that something was wrong. I could hear the drone of an ambulance siren in the background. My mother had had a stroke. No warning. One moment she was fine, the next she was slumped, unable to speak and unable to move her left side.
I remember pacing around my bedroom like a chicken without a head, trying to finish getting dressed, but ending up with one sock on one sock off, unable to think clearly enough to figure out what to do next. I had my daughters with me – do I take them to Las Vegas, where my parents live. Do I drive? No, it would take too long. Do I fly? How soon can I get to the airport? And how do I let them know at the Awards ceremony that I'll be a no-show? And how could I be worrying about such a thing when I didn't even know if my mother was alive or dead. When you get such crushing news, it takes a while until your brain absorbs it and realizes just how crushing it is.
Ultimately I asked my friend, Eric Elfman go to the ceremony in my place, and hopped with my son Jarrod on the next Jet Blue flight out of Long Beach to Las Vegas, and was at the hospital within a couple of hours.
The situation was grave. The doctor's said they were surprised she was even alive – but my mom's a fighter. They operated to relieve the pressure in her head and to stop the internal bleeding. Then she was in a medically induced coma for three days, to let her brain start to heal. According to the doctors, the kind of stroke she had – a "wet stroke" is most dangerous during the first few hours – but if you survive the initial stroke, your prospects for recovery are much better than that for a "dry stroke" (which is the kind where the brain doesn't bleed).
By the fifth day she was awake and alert, but couldn't even attempt to speak, because of the breathing tube. Each day my father and I would sit by her bedside from early morning until the evening. Each day I had come with all the writing, and rewriting I need to do, figuring I could work by her side when she was asleep, but all I could do was stare blankly at the computer, and the pages unable to do a thing. How can you focus on fiction when real life is assaulting you so brutally, just holding it together takes a massive dose of will?
So rather than sitting here in a stupor today, I decided to write about the reality, and not the fantasy that usually gushes unchecked from my head.
Right now I sit near the window. It's dark. Six in the evening. The nurse enters wearing electric-blue scrubs so bright it hurts the eyes. I had a car like that once. Dodge Durango. Loved that car.
electric blue durango
electric blue scrubs
.
.
.
.
.
.
My mom now communicates with me by gripping my hand. One grip for yes, two for no. Yesterday a doctor came in to tell us she wasn't responsive, and her grips were random – that her mind wasn't really working, so I said "Mom hold up two fingers." And she did. Then I said "Mom what's two plus two?" And she held up four fingers. I could tell she enjoyed showing the doctor he was moron. I'm actually surprised she didn't give him one particular finger!
machine that goes "bing".
She plays with a cord leading to the heart monitor. The nurse says she's just bored, and has nothing to do but play with the cord. My Mom is a busy lady, always doing something. The boredom of lying in a bed with a tube down your throat, with nothing to do but play with a cord must be horrible. I wish I could find a way for her to pass all this waiting time more easily. Another nurse comes in, this one in a bright red Hawaiian shirt, and I try to figure out what's up with the uniform code here? The new nurse is the respiratory specialist. There are more specialists here coming in and out on a regular basis than I can count. Respiratory, pulmonary, physical therapy, circulatory, neurology, lab technicians, and the guy who takes care of the machine that goes "bing."
Looking at her in that bed, it's hard to imagine that just a week ago she was perfectly alright, talking to me on the phone, giving me far too many details about a subject I can't even remember. I was trying to work on the Unwind script, and I remember politely asking her to get to the point. And now we don't even know if she'll be able to speak after the stroke. How often do we take for granted the conversations we have with the people we love? What I would give now to hear her talk about anything for as long as she wanted to.
The care here seems to be very good, but to a layman it's like being at the mechanic's. "We need your consent to introduce a picc-line because the venal approaches are not as clear as the arterial blood-gas line, and she may need a new carburetor."
Picc-line
carburator
.
.
.
.
.
.
By now, though, my dad and I are beginning to feel like experts in, at least the specifics of treatment for stroke victims. (The medication she was on, by the way, when she was in the induced coma, was propyphol – the same stuff that killed Michael Jackson. It's powerful and dangerous stuff if not monitored 24/7 by professionals in a structured hospital setting. Conrad Murray should rot in jail.)
I hold my Mom's hand now. I can tell she's glad my Dad and I are here. She's also frustrated, as we all are, that the pulmonologist won't take out the breathing tube yet. Today we were told she's developed pneumonia. From the breathing tube. Yet they can't take it out, because she has pneumonia. It's maddening.
It's very difficult to be patient when you can't be sure what the next moment is going to bring. When you're not sure if the alarm going off is just a lose connection, or cardiac arrest. When you have to unplug your hard-line phone and turn off your cell at night, because you can't sleep due to your terror of the "middle-of-the-night call" from the hospital.
Right now every day seems to be two steps forward, one step back, but all we can do is hope and pray that those forward steps will all begin to add up to recovery – and that when Thanksgiving rolls along, we will have something to be truly thankful for.
My mom
October 18, 2011
But What About Zin the Ripper…?
I've had a lot of people who've read EVERFOUND ask me what ever happened to Zin, and why she wasn't in the book. The thing is, there was a problem bringing her back into the story. Now that Zin was in the living world, and had no power to see, or connect with Everlost — and with the only characters who cared about her trapped in other situations (Johnny-O on the Hindenburg, and Nick with no memory of himself), bringing Zin back would have been completely artificial, and forced. I had Johnny-O thinking about her at one point, but made the[image error] conscious decision to delete it, because all he could do was the same thing fans were doing — wonder what happened to her, which only implied that I would bring her back — which was impossible, since the story did not bring any of our characters near Memphis, except for Jix, near the beginning, but in a city of millions of people, it would have been unrealistic for the cat that Jix was skinjacking to randomly run into her.
In a story where reality is already stretched, it is very important that the logic of the real world not be cheated. What makes a story like the skinjacker trilogy compelling, is that you can almost believe it. That's because I never cheat real world logic. The real world is still the real world, and the characters, even though they're going through extraordinary and supernatural things, still behave, think, and feel like real people. For all of these reasons, it was simply impossible to bring Zin back, just like it was impossible to bring Lief back after the first book.
BUT – FEAR NOT! I can tell you exactly what happened to her… and since I'm the one who made her up, it must be right! 
She was taken in as a foster child by the same family that had her dog. Although she had a hard time adjusting in school, and learning to read and write, she was a wiz when it came to American History. Every year she participates in the reenactment of the civil war — which they actually do. She falls in love with a boy fighting for the north, but they only get to see each other once a year during the reenactment. Finally, after ten years, of this, a truce between the north and south is declared just so they can get married. They plan to someday buy a house that's built right on the Mason-Dixon line. 
[image error]
September 11, 2011
September 11th Tribute
I wrote this poem the week after Sept. 11th, 2001. Everything in it is true. My father did work in the 88th floor, but left that job a couple of years before the towers came down…
Slice of Heaven
by Neal Shusterman
Written after September 11, 2001
Always there,
Like faint gray mountains in the distance.
The only hint of skyline seen,
From the south tip of Brooklyn.
They grew up with me;
At ten my father took me to the Battery,
To watch them as they rose,
The marvels that defined my youth.
At 18 my father brought me again.
His office; tower two, floor 88.
Above the clouds, yet still on solid ground.
The view from his window confirmed heaven.
My sons had pizza on the 110 th floor
When the towers had two months to live.
King Kong straddled the gap in my youth.
Spiderman caught the helicopters in theirs,
But pizza in the sky was still the same;
Greasy and overpriced
Just as I remembered.
On the Times Square screen,
Larger than life, but smaller than reality,
My father, now retired, saw his old office crumble,
And wondered who he knew,
But didn't dare find out.
His old business cards are now treasures.
Had it been only architecture,
Had it been only office space,
The loss could be settled,
But how can you make an accounting,
When your sons still remember the face,
Of the man who served them pizza in the sky?
April 4, 2011
First Review of EVERFOUND!!!
Kirkus has given EVERFOUND a STARRED REVIEW! Needless to say, I'm thrilled! Here's the review!
Kirkus, 4/15/11
Shusterman ends his provocative trilogy with a rock-solid adventure that manages to examine deep questions of faith and morality.
At the end of Everwild (2009), Nick the Chocolate Ogre had dissolved into a mass of chocolate pudding, Mary Hightower was asleep in a glass coffin waiting to be reborn, Allie the Outcast was strapped to the front of a runaway train and Mikey McGill (formerly the monstrous McGill) was searching for a way to rescue her. The adventures continue, with Mexican Afterlight Jix joining the cast of characters as a furjacker, slipping into the bodies of giant cats as he spies on Mary's army for the Mayan King. The rules of Everlost are unique, catering to the children who go there upon death and wait until they are ready to go into the light. But even those rules can be overset with the introduction of Clarence, the scar wraith, whose touch can extinguish anyone out of existence—forever. Alliances form and melt as characters decide between their own self-interest and what is right; the shifting third-person perspective gives readers glimpses into everybody's souls.
Rich in detail, with exceptional characterization and shot through with unexpected (and very necessary) humor, this is an engrossing and thoroughly satisfying ending to a unique saga of life after death.
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