As part of The New Yorker's lovely 1,000 Words feature, in which they showcase "great images of books from around the world and the web," they've highlighted a picture of a book sculpture created in memory of German writers and poets in the Bebelplatz in Berlin. The Bebelplatz is notable for being the site of a Nazi book burning in which more than 20,000 books went up in flames in a single day. It's such a striking image. And an important one. Go take a look.
It seems a long time ago now that I first read Shiver -- the first book in the Wolves of Mercy Falls trilogy. But looking back I started it on the plane ride to BEA and finished it there in the conference center, fingers gripping the cover tightly, while sitting on the floor in one of the many autograph lines. And now it's May again and BEA is right around the corner and I emerge from my recent and nasty reading slump stupor to find a copy of Linger sitting in my mailbox like a glove thrown down in the dirt. "I will be the one to pull you out," it whispers to me slyly. "Just open me up and take a sip. I promise--one sip is all it will take." And I look at it with fear and longing written all over my face. "You promise?" I ask intently. "Because it's been a long walk in the cold and I'm not sure I can take another disappointment." "Just open me up," it says, confidence written all over its cover. And so I do. And everythin