Casting The Dream Peddler

    I’ve been planning the movie of The Dream Peddler for a long, long time. I believe I’ve even mentioned Bradley Cooper a couple of times on this very blog. So I have a pretty good idea of which actors I would ideally cast for each role. The best part about this week’s blog is that I have full control. Every actor I’ve ever loved is not only available…

Friday, February 22, 2019
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Dear Lucy Maude

    In many ways, The Dream Peddler is a love letter to L. M. Montgomery. I can’t think of any author whose work I spent more time reading during my adolescence. Eventually I collected every novel she ever wrote, and read many of them over and over. Back then I never gave any thought to the opportunities to read something new that I was squandering every time I picked…

Friday, February 15, 2019
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Happy Birthday to The Atlas of Reds and Blues

Friday, February 8, 2019

    As you all know by now, it’s a very exciting week for us here at the ball because we are celebrating our first book release! We all had the chance to read Devi’s book many months ago, and I must say, I was not one bit surprised by all the attention it has been getting, the many amazing lists it’s been on, and the literary world’s general excitement…

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Attacus Atlas & Other Inventions: Book Birthday

Tuesday, February 5, 2019

Aloha! Today my debut novel, The Atlas of Reds and Blues, is released — and tonight there’s a big book birthday party planned at Books Inc. in Mountain View, CA to celebrate the journey thus far. What began as a short story I wrote for a workshop in 2004 will have a life of its own, separate from me. It is a surreal feeling to look back and realize one…

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I Thought Branding Was Only For Livestock

Friday, February 1, 2019

    Publishing my first book in 2019, I often find myself daydreaming about what it must have been like to do this a hundred years ago when there was no internet, no blogosphere, no Twitter or Facebook or Instagram to manage. I don’t know why, because I have absolutely nothing in common with him, but I always picture F. Scott Fitzgerald, scribbling away at his writing desk, blissfully ignorant…

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