Austin Aslan's Blog

I just finished Gene Wolfe’s “Book of the New Sun,” a seminal four volume magnum opus in science-fiction’s “Dying Earth” sub-genre, in which we’re flung, headlong, into an inconceivably far-distant future where our sun is a dwindling red presence in the sky and humanity’s last children are bearing witness to the planet’s inevitable natural death.

The saga slowly and patiently unravels as a presumed fantasy work and reveals itself to be science fiction. Our protagonist, Severian, is a young apprentice in a guild of tortures/executioners. He is exiled from all he knows when he unforgivably shows mercy to a prisoner, allowing her to take her own life rather than be tortured. No spoilers here (because our narrator tells us this much in the opening pages): Severian goes on to wander, fight in a great war, and eventually become the autarch, the supreme ruler of the planet, where he then endeavors to accomplish nothing less ambitious than the resurrection of the dying sun itself.

This story will stick with me for the rest of my life.

I don’t say this lightly: Book of the New Sun is without a doubt the most singular thing I’ve ever read, the most ambitious narrative I’ve ever conceived of, and the most expertly-executed and disciplined work of inspired writing I’ve ever seen. It utterly stands alone and defies any comparison. Truly: a worthy pursuit for anyone who likes to think of themselves as a serious pupil of literature. But don’t take it from me. George RR Martin calls it, “One of the great science fantasy epics of all time.” Niel Gaiman hails it as, “The best SF novel of the last century.” And Ursula K. LeGuinn refers to Wolfe as, “Our Melville.”

BOTNS took me six months to complete. It’s not an easy read, and is best served by affording it more concentration than today’s readers are perhaps accustomed to. You must be willing to pay attention, to delve deep—and to cross examine its own unreliable narrator. Wolfe is never accidental. The most confusing moments are the ones you must scrutinize above all others.

But I am not trying to discourage you, curios reader! On the contrary! BOTNS is gorgeously written, but it’s also a ton of fun! In fact, it’s downright COOL. It’s a swashbuckling adventure. There are swords and laser guns, aliens, cyborgs, robots, giants and ghosts, sea monsters and gods, spaceships and time travel. Romance and love and deception. It literally features an entire, written-out stage play within. At times it reads as deeply as a Hemingway or Stephen Crane war novel (Wolfe was, after all, himself a soldier who served on the ground in battle during the Korean War). (And he was also, incidentally, the inventor of the Pringle potato chip. Don’t believe me? Look it up. But I digress…)

BOTNS bleeds the crimson blood of Christian mysticism throughout–particularly Catholic mysticism–but it does so in the most appropriately-subtle and delicious ways. At times it is utterly haunting, or horrific, and genuinely scary. But BOTNS is undeniably at its best (and least challenging and most rewarding) when it slows down and reflects on itself, and the human condition, and the millions of years of future trajectory our species has in store, possibly over and over again, not only within this universe, but beyond the next Big Crunch and Big Bang, and the next one, and so on.

This book is dizzying, and dreamlike, at times confusing and even frustrating. But above all it is singular–and singularly masterful. It is an experience all to itself, something very rare indeed anymore…in these days when it’s generally conceded that there’s no such thing as anything new…under the sun.

AT LAST! Philippe Cousteau and I are super excited to unveil Jim Madsen’s smoking hot cover for ENDANGEREDS 2: MELTING POINT. Let us know what you think!!! This book is such a blast–we can’t wait for it to hit shelves in October of this year. But pre-orders really help with book momentum so head over to Endangereds.com to reserve your copies of E2 today!

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THE ENDANGEREDS has been named to the 2021 Green Earth Book Award long list!!! What great company we’re in. So pleased that our animal “E-Team” is making a genuine difference in the real world. Winners will be announced, of course, on Earth Day!

Winning out over the “Muppet Movie” by a razor-thin margin, Terry Gilliam’s “Brazil” is my all time favorite film, and not just because I receive vacant stares or looks of concern when I admit that.  A cerebral tale, to put it mildly, and as chilling as it is comical, Brazil isn’t just an excuse to sit down with a bucket of popcorn.  To hit the nail on the head in the simplest terms possible, it’s a house of mirrors, a carnival ride we unwittingly enter into for a joke but leave in a sort of shock, because we’ve just been shown ourselves through an unbecoming filter and we’re not sure we like what we’ve seen.  This movie is not a journey into Gilliam’s dark but genius vision of an all too possible future, where terrorism is whittled down to poor sportsmanship, where “Consumers for Christ” picket around neon Christmas trees, and heroes literally disappear in a heap of paperwork.  This movie’s eerie power arises from the realization that it is a reflection of our present, of the way the world has been working for quite some time now.

Sam Lowry, brilliantly portrayed by Jonathan Pryce, is our tragic un-hero, a mid-level functionary in the Ministry of Information who is blissfully gliding through life unnoticed, unburdened by weighty things such as motivation or passion.  Sam does dream, though—often—of a woman that he rescues from the clutches of doll-faced monsters and a samurai armored in gilded computer parts nestled deep within the dark canyons of an oppressive, monolithic cityscape.  In real life, Sam’s only concern is finding a way to keep his high-society, ever-younger mother from using her connections to get him promoted against his wishes.

Meanwhile, a bug, stomped dead against an otherwise antiseptic wall, falls into a printer somewhere deep within the bowels of the ministry, momentarily mucking up the flawless paperwork churned out by the system.  This leads to the dramatic arrest of an innocent family man.  Turns out, the terrorist Archibald Tuttle, not Archibald Buttle, should have been apprehended by the city storm troopers, but the hapless father of two is tortured to death by the good butchers at Information Retrieval long before the error is realized.

Fighting terror can be an expensive enterprise (as we are all beginning to learn!) but the ministry stays within budget by billing their prisoners for the inconvenience.  When the Tuttle-Buttle snafu comes to light, Sam offers to deliver a refund check to the late Buttle’s family, it being Christmas and all.  Sam’s boss (Ian Holm, or Bilbo from LOTR), who is afraid of his own signature, is elated, because there is nothing more embarrassing than not knowing the right place to send a receipt.  On this errand Sam glimpses the uncomfortable reality behind the bureaucratic layers of his quiet life, but is unable to awaken his senses… (follow link for full essay) Instead, he is conveniently distracted as he sees the woman of his dreams in the flesh, Jill Layton by name.  He chases after her, but she disappears.  Sam returns to work and decides to take the latest promotion offered him, so that he’ll have higher access to the system and the files that can reveal more about Jill.

As all this develops, the environmental controls in Sam’s apartment break down, and we meet the terrorist Harry Tuttle, played by Robert DeNiro, who shows up to fix the plumbing. Tuttle is a terrorist precisely because he meddles with Central Services, doing their job more efficiently than they can do it themselves.  By fixing Sam’s plumbing without the proper forms, Tuttle’s well-meaning good deed later turns the system viciously and vengefully against Sam.

Sam is doing a fine job of turning the system against himself, as it is.  His relentless and blind pursuit for Jill Layton stirs a ministry jealous of order…even as Sam labors to appease it.  These conflicting forces of romance and Pavlovian controls tear at Sam; this duel is masterfully illustrated when Sam stops to pick up his loose paperwork even as he urgently chases after Jill, and even as ministry storm troopers close in on him.

Who wins in the end?  Does the system regain control and maintain its perfect balance of inefficiency masquerading as order?  Or does Sam get the girl and escape to the country where there is no more need of the machine—or the terrorism that feeds it?  Obviously, I won’t rob you of the pleasure (or the discomfort) of figuring that out for yourself (and it does require figuring out!)

Brazil is without a doubt a work of genius, but it is also told through the eyes of a man whose imagination is far from appealing to all tastes.  The history of the making of this movie could easily be made into a film that would, ironically, be much more successful than the movie itself.  Hollywood is not geared toward marketing movies as demanding as Brazil, and the epic feud that ensued between filmmaker and film executive following Gilliam’s final cut is still recognized as the biggest studio vs. director imbroglio ever.  Universal CEO Sidney Sheinberg insisted on major changes before its release in the US, eventually cutting his own version of the film that was an hour shorter with a predictable Hollywood ending that was completely antithetical to the purpose of the film.  Often dubbed as the worst case of film vandalism in history, Sheinberg ordered his version of the film to be shown on television in an attempt to ruin Gilliam’s name.  The months-long battle ended in December 1985, when the Los Angeles Film Critics Association saw Gilliam’s version in a series of secret meetings in the back of a gun club and declared the film the year’s Best Picture, as well as hailing Gilliam Best Director and Screenplay writer.  Sheinberg and Gilliam hated each other so much that they refused to talk to each other, eventually communicating only through a column in an LA newspaper.  Once the film critics had spoken, Gilliam released a full page ad in the paper that said only:  “Dear Sid, / When are you going to release my film, Brazil? / Terry Gilliam.”  Gilliam’s version was finally allowed in theaters shortly afterward.

It should be said up front that this film deserves more than a single viewing to properly appreciate it.  The plot is complex enough without the disorienting lenses through which it is told, and the tale is as layered as a French dessert.  Gilliam himself quips that this movie is like an archeological dig, best picked apart slowly and meticulously.  In order to alleviate the necessity for multiple viewings (maybe), I’m taking the liberty to point out of few of the layers.  Perhaps the first time through can be a little less perplexing if some of this stuff is known beforehand.

Here’s the $64,000 question:  What the heck is up with the music?  And what does the movie’s title have to do to with anything?  The two are entirely intertwined.  Gilliam was in Port Talbot, Wales, a steel town where everything is covered with gray, iron ore dust, when inspiration for the title and musical score struck him.  He explains the rest in his own words:  “Even the beach is completely littered with dust, it’s just black.  The sun was setting, and it was quite beautiful.  The contrast was extraordinary, I had this image of a guy sitting there on this dingy beach with a portable radio, tuning in these strange Latin escapist songs like ‘Brazil.’  The music transported him somehow and made his world less gray.”  Gilliam’s vision spoke so directly to him of the protagonist in the film he was working on, that he could never afterward separate that song’s music from his head as he developed the story.  The music, and the title, became inseparable from Sam Lowry’s story.

Let’s move on to setting…when does it take place?  Why, everywhere in the 20th Century, of course.  Don’t let the typewriters with the computer screens throw you for a loop.  No need to be nonplussed by the gasmasks and the bowler hats on the same head.  Gilliam is purposefully avoiding being pinned down, and deepening the scope of his cautionary tale by placing robots next to 20s-era desk clerks.  Where?  Gilliam has said that it takes place along the LA/Belfast border, if that’s any help.  It certainly doesn’t take place in Brazil.

What’s with the samurai covered in computer parts, and those freaky baby-faced monsters?  The samurai represents the system, of which Sam himself is a part.  No surprise, then, when Sam vanquishes it in his dream only to find that it’s himself behind the mask.  Samurai…Sam, you are I?  The other forces of darkness don’t require too much cogitation.  They are both baby and skeletal at the same time…both life and death.

And the ducts!  Whatever do they represent?  They’re ubiquitous throughout the film.  But really, is that any different than real life?  Gilliam calls them ‘umbilici’.  They are the entrails of society, the guts that make our buildings work, and in turn, our lives.  Think about it…does your home not have these wiry entrails?  Your plumbing may be smaller and hidden behind the wall, your computer’s cables may disappear through a hole behind your desk, but it’s still there.  And that is what Gilliam does with this movie on so many levels…takes the things that are right before us and lets us finally see them in obvious, if not obnoxious ways.

Let’s delve a little deeper, shall we?  What does Mrs. Terrain’s unflinching trust and faith in her acid-wielding plastic surgeon teach us about how our society refuses to raise an eyebrow of concern as our leaders take us down ever darker roads, in spite of the pain and agony—and ultimate death—that it causes?  Look closely…the answer is in the question.

Look closely at a lot of things in this film…and you’ll probably want to see it a couple more times.  What is it that the terrorists are actually blowing up in the opening scene of the movie?  TVs?  Hmmm.  When the captured terrorist is led on a hook through the gauntlet of offices to be processed, notice that the subject of conversation quickly moves from legal counsel to financial advising.  Here’s an interesting question…what would happen to the Ministry if terrorist bombings were to suddenly cease?  How would that affect revenue, or the Ministry’s purpose in general?    What is it that Gilliam seems to have his finger on, here, long before the turn of the century and the challenges it has brought?

We see that the motto of the Ministry is “The Truth Shall Set You Free.”  Beautiful!  That’s the one thing that the world of this film doesn’t operate on, and the people are subsequently…well, not very free.  Are we?  But the ministry puts the key right in front of the people’s faces, boldly, proudly, on the grand statue in the lobby, knowing the irony will be lost.

Look closely…the people travel in cages.  Look closer…within one cage, all the men are sitting and only a woman is standing without a seat.  Closer….she’s pregnant.  Closer still…she only has only leg!  What else is there to notice on the second or third time through?

Ere I am J.H.  It’s the password that allows Sam into the Vice Minister’s office.  But look closer.  It’s also an anagram of Sam’s late father…Jeremiah.

What does the lady from Central Services on the other end of the phone say to Sam just before she starts repeating her list of menu options?  “This has not been a recording!”  It’s funny, but why?

Why do we see storm troopers playing volleyball and singing Noel in full uniform?  What is the point of Jack Lint bringing his 3 year-old daughter to work with him?  (Jack’s a torturer with “Information Retrieval.”)  Look close…we can see the little girl’s bouncy ball on the tray of surgical tools in the torture chamber.  Why is the secretary who is dictating screams of agony so friendly and accommodating?  Why are we met with the image of a man burning alive when Sam and Jill escape the ‘bad guys?’  Gilliam does a fantastic job of divorcing the evil acts of this tale from evil people.  There are no evil people.  The folks complicit in this topsy-turvy world are us.  They are family men…really good people doing really bad work.  Even Sam can’t see his complicit role in the travesty that led ultimately to Archibald Buttle’s wrongful death.  Did the Nazi soldiers in Germany during WWII see themselves as evil?  Were they evil?  Is Gilliam’s world really all that topsy-turvy?

Look closely…see the road shouldered by beautiful billboards? See the desolate landscape which lies beyond, hidden by the advertisements?  Have you ever driven along a clear-cut highway in California redwood country?  Would you know, or was the destruction hidden behind a layer of trees along the roadway?

The Ministry of Information Retrieval has control, the lobby is quiet and austere and Sam doesn’t even have to show his badge at the door.  The elevator is waiting for him, as if it knew he were coming.  But have a closer look…that same elevator doesn’t meet the floor directly when it arrives at Sam’s stop.  Is the Ministry really in control?  How might this reflect our own government, today?

Each time Sam rises to a new level in the Ministry, the halls become more and more antiseptic, more clinical.  But look closer…see the cardboard wedges sticking through the grout in the white tiles at the Ministry’s highest level?  See the drops of red blood on the immaculate floor?

That’s a good start.  I wouldn’t want to take all the gems away.  Just one last thing:  be sure to read as many of the propaganda posters as you can.  “Power Today, Progress Tomorrow” is my personal favorite.  How many can you spot?

Brazil has more times than not been described as Orwellian, or futuristic.  Especially in a post 9-11 world (among several moments, seeing the paper flutter around in the sky after the Ministry headquarters is blown up by terrorists can’t be viewed without one’s eyes bugging out anymore), watching this film strikes me as unsettlingly prescient, and Gilliam has often been told that his film is misunderstood because it came before its time.  In a spasmodic fit of irony, though, Gilliam labels that line of thinking the greatest misunderstanding of all, arguing that such a conclusion exactly misses the point.  Where Orwell was envisioning a fascist future ruled by order and technology that could someday occur if society followed a certain path, Gilliam—paraphrasing his own words—is satirizing the bureaucratic, largely dysfunctional industrial world that has been driving him batty his whole life.

So, why is this my favorite movie of all time, again?  Oh, yeah, back to that.  Brazil has earned such a high place of favor with me precisely because it dares to allow general audiences to stare back at it blankly.  The fact that it had such a tumultuous history before it was even released only reinforces its nature as a beast to be set aside and held above the rest.  This movie, which barely broke even at the box office and is far from a household name, is certainly not for everyone, and that’s exactly why I admire it so; it broke through the very system it criticizes, ultimately, triumphing over Gilliam’s own mammoth samurai.  If the everyday people of Gilliam’s dystopia were presented this film, would they laud it, or stare blankly at it?  Exactly.  Maybe I fancy myself one of the Tuttle’s of that world, darting in and out of an ill land like a songbird in a sewage plant, making it work, allowing it to make sense in small ways, and happily hated by the powers that be because of it.  Film critic Richard Corliss said it better than I ever could in his Time Magazine article celebrating Gilliam’s victory over the studio back when the movie was first unleashed:  “A terrific movie has escaped the asylum without a lobotomy.  The good guys, the few directors itching to make films away from the assembly line, won one for a change.”

In the end, the truth set it free.

Are you ready to enter the funhouse?  More importantly, are you prepared not to laugh?

Happy Book Birthday, The Endangereds! It’s been a long gestation but you’re finally out in the wild! And we’re hitting the ground at a full gallop! Co-authored by TV host and explorer Philippe Cousteau, with incredible artwork from Jim Madsen, a stellar audiobook performance by actor Ramon de Ocampo, and supplemental education material and back matter provided by the WWF and EarthEcho International, and executive editor David Linker of HarperKids Books piloting this grand safari, we’re swinging for the jungle canopy on this remarkable collaborative effort. I sincerely hope this book inspires the next generation of environmental rescuers to action, and offers plenty of laughs along the way.

Please visit http://www.TheEndangerds.com for links on how to purchase from your favorite retailers, and for educational material to supplement your reading experience.

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Hi! You found your way over to Austin Aslan during the final farewell Fall 2020 YA Scavenger Hunt! Congratulations. You probably arrived here via Darcy Woods. Awesome. (And my Team Purple #YASH host is Heather L. Reid. Check it out!)

If you happen to not know what the heck I’m talking about, Go to the YA Scavenger Hunt page to find out all about the hunt. And if you’re experiencing any technical glitches, don’t worry, Glitch Happens. Go here for some tasty medicine.

Now, without further ado…let’s YASH!

144 (ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY-FOUR)

AND NOW NOW, without further ado-doo, here’s the  MAIN EVENT! I’M HOSTING Paula Stokes.

Paula Stokes is author of Stellar. Fun, funny, and feminist af, Stellar is a story of best friends, first love, and learning to believe in yourself.

Read the book link: https://www.swoonreads.com/a/paulastokes/CU1OHJ/

Book Description: In the unforgiving world of popular video game Project Survival, seventeen-year-old Stella takes no prisoners. Her ability to annihilate both human and computer-generated enemies with the help of her partner Betsy earns the girls a chance to compete in the national championships in Seattle. But claiming victory isn’t the only reason Stella’s excited to head north. It’s also a chance for her to meet Noah, a Project Survival newbie she took under her wing a few months ago who’s become more to her than just another player—a lot more.

When the two finally meet, Noah is even cuter in person than in the pictures he sent Stella, but for some reason the real-world chemistry doesn’t match the intensity of their late-night chats. Is it possible that the boy of her dreams doesn’t exist IRL?

With a huge cash prize on the line, Stella must navigate the dangerous terrain of Project Survival and her own conflicting emotions, even as she discovers that the lines between real life and online are blurrier than she ever imagined.

Paula: Hi YASH-ers! I’m really psyched to be participating in the final YA Scavenger Hunt. I haven’t managed to sell a book to a publisher since my seaside mystery HIDDEN PIECES, but that hasn’t stopped me from maintaining my goal of releasing one book a year. (Can’t stop won’t stop!) Last year I released STRONGER THAN WORDS on Wattpad and the free SwoonReads platform, as well as re-releasing my NA novel THE KEY TO EVERYTHING on Wattpad.

This year I’m thrilled to share my girl gamer internet romance, STELLAR, for free on the SwoonReads platform. You can also read the first few chapters on Wattpad. STELLAR is probably my second favorite out of all my books (behind GIRL AGAINST THE UNIVERSE) because like GATU it hits that balance of being both hopeful and realistic. It’s funny and empowering, and although I am a former gamer, the tournament is mainly the backdrop to Stella’s journey of discovering who she is and what she wants, both in love and in life. You don’t have to know anything about video games to enjoy this novel.

Enough of my blathering. Here’s the cover:

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I worked with independent graphic designer Diana Zhang in creating this cover. I wanted to capture the iconic Seattle setting, as well as the romance element. And I think the Neon One font adds a bit of whimsy. I’m thrilled with how it turned out. What do you think of this cover? Share your thoughts in the comments

[image error]The wait is over! With enormous excitement I’m proud to announce THE ENDANGEREDS, the first novel in a new adventure series co-authored by myself and Philippe Cousteau Jr., the celebrated environ-mentalist, television host, and grandson of Captain Jacques Cousteau.

At last, the “A-Team” meets the Animal Kingdom! It’s time for endangered species to take matters into their own hands, paws, flippers, and claws!



When I was approached about this project by the executive editor of children’s publishing at HarperCollins two summers ago, I nearly lost my mind. I believed this collaboration was perfectly matched to my creative talents and professional interests. Fortunately, Philippe agreed. I’m so grateful. We’ve been partnering for two years on the first two books in this series, and I’m convinced we’ve crafted characters and stories that are special and meaningful, that will entertain readers of any age, and inspire them to become better environmental stewards.



Book One will publish everywhere books are sold on Sept. 29, 2020. If you’re interested in pre-ordering a copy, please follow the link provided (it will direct you to your favorite retailers.) I’ll post more about this journey as the pub date nears. Thank you all for your interest and support!

https://www.harpercollins.com/products/the-endangereds-philippe-cousteauaustin-aslan?variant=32116086177826

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[image error]At last! HUGE book news coming! I’m so excited to finally share what I’ve been up to recently over at HarperCollins. This project has been under wraps for quite some time, but the moment of truth is nigh. Please stay tuned. I’ll officially spill the announce-ment beans on MONDAY!

I thank The Daily Sun for publishing my special editorial today (embedded below), written to parents and families in Flagstaff (and everywhere else) experiencing hardship and sacrifice during this unprecedented time. This was inspired by many things but put into focus by Sunday’s letter to the editor complaining about the closure of our parks and the mental toll it can take on our children.

It’s a hard and scary time to be a parent. Our lives have been disrupted in every imaginable way, and every American is grappling with these changes. But beyond our own disruptions, it is agonizing to watch the disruptions our children are facing and to be unable to protect them and their routines and their daily joys from the uncertainty and loss that are all around us.

The schools are closed. The sports seasons are canceled. The playdates and daycares and birthday parties have vanished. The clubs and lessons and library trips are halted. The playgrounds are barricaded.

My children are 10 and 14, and I watch them face each day with pain in my heart, as they talk wistfully about friends and play practice, basketball and music lessons. They watch holidays and birthdays pass in isolation and ask when they’ll get to see their cousins again and how we will celebrate Easter and whether they’ll get to go swimming at the Aquaplex this summer. It’s hard to have no clear answers, to admit that I don’t know, and to see them wish for so many little joys they can’t have.

I share your pain. I share the feelings of inadequacy when I’m asked to help my kids through their new online school routines while keeping up with my own two jobs and trying to tend to all of our physical and mental health in the face of cabin fever. None of us knows how to do this right, none of us had time to prepare, none of us knows where this is going.

But in the face of all of this change, and in light of our fears for our community and the very real suffering experienced by the ill and by their families and by our healthcare and first-responder heroes, I also find myself watching my children with something more than fear. I am watching them with hope.

Our children have been asked to sacrifice, and their sacrifices are very real. They are experiencing trauma and loss and anxiety. But they are also making important and formative memories.

They are learning that school can mean many things. They are learning that their teachers and principals put them first and that education is essential. They are learning that when all else is disrupted, their homes and families are constant (and yet I do realize there are far too many who do not have this comfort to fall back on). They are learning that healthcare workers are heroes and that healthcare and online connectivity are both essential human rights.

They are learning that Americans and humans make voluntary sacrifices to protect the most vulnerable among us — they are watching us put human lives above our great economic engine. They are watching videos and images of quarantines and isolation and face masks and hospitals in Europe and Africa and South America and Asia and they’re learning that we are one species and that some challenges transcend national boundaries. They are learning that boredom can catalyze creativity.

They are learning how to resolve their own sibling battles, bake bread from scratch, plant an herb garden, and mute themselves on Zoom. They are learning to take the time to reach out — on a screen! — to isolated grandparents. They are learning that Star Trek: The Next Generation is the greatest and most binge-worthy show ever made. They are learning to conserve toilet paper. They are learning to self-motivate in their lessons.

Our children are a little less protected and a little less innocent, and that comes with sorrow and heartache. But these times are bringing lessons that may make them a little more responsible, a little more independent, a little more creative, a little more patient, a little more compassionate, and a little more thankful for what they have. They just may grow up to be more aware of the rest of the world, more considerate of human rights, more thankful for home and family, and more appreciative of the power of education and healthcare than if this crisis had arrived in another generation.

The so-called “Greatest Generation” was given their title not because they were given every opportunity, but because they showed resilience in the face of hardship. They rose to the challenges of their time. I want to protect my children and I want them to resume their lives and to access their neighborhood playgrounds. But I also want them to learn and grow, and I see them doing that before my eyes.

(Austin Aslan is a Flagstaff City Councilmember.)

[image error]Hi! You found your way over to Austin Aslan during the Spring 2020 YA Scavenger Hunt! Congratulations. You probably arrived here via DEBBIE MANBER KUPFER. Awesome. (And my Team Purple #YASH host is JC WELKER. Check it out!)

If you happen to not know what the heck I’m talking about, Go to the YA Scavenger Hunt page to find out all about the hunt. And if you’re experiencing any technical glitches, don’t worry, Glitch Happens. Go here for some tasty medicine.

Now, without further ado…let’s YASH!

144 (ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY-FOUR)

 

AND NOW NOW, without further ado-do, here’s the  MAIN EVENT! I’M HOSTING STEPHANY WALLACE.

Stephany Wallace is an International Bestselling Author of Young Adult and New Adult Fantasy Romance, Paranormal Romance, and Urban Fantasy. She has multiple bestselling series including Dynasty of Blood, The Winter Court Chronicles, and Curse of the Lycan.

Stephany writes about headstrong, quirky, bad-ass heroines, and their swoon worthy, alpha male, sweet, or sexy nerdy heroes. She loves bringing to life extraordinary Vampires, Dragons, Wolf Shifters, Witches, and creating incredibly vivid worlds that capture you from the very first page, and leave you wanting more.

Stephany will be providing me with the following awesome bonus material for this year’s YA Scavenger Hunt, an early look at the cover to her new book…(TO BE UPDATED ASAP)

BLURB HOOK:


Certainty has always been the source of my power.

I knew what I wanted. I knew who I was… until I met Connhor Whyte.
Now, everything has changed.

Lost Little Witch, Witches of Fire & Ice, Grimoire 2