Blog Transition

Hey Guys!
So some of you may have noticed that I haven't posted here for a while. Right now I'm in the middle of switching official blogs on this website, so while that happens I've been updating my blog at lauren-oliver.tumblr.com. Check in there for all news and fun!
xoLauren

Collaboration Challenge Pt. 4 !!!!

So far I've gotten almost 200 responses to the Requiem ARC giveaway! I'm so excited to sit down and read all of those stories, but in the meantime I'm really excited to announce the next part of the collaboration writing challenge! Once again, we had a lot of great entries, so remember to keep submitting, even if yours hasn't yet been selected. There's a lot of this story yet to come and we need as many voices as possible. This week's story is extra long. The first part was written by, Heather Kirby, and the second part was written by my friend and assistant Natasha! Next week, along with you guys, I'll jump in with a second of my own!

I can't wait for you guys to let me know what happens next! Remember, send the next 200 words of the story tolaurenoliverbooks@gmail.com by  AUGUST 8TH. That's ONE WEEK guys! And have fun with it!

First part of the story here!

Molly was shaking now. She was lying in a freezing liquid. Her eyes had been closed tightly in fear. Now, opening them, she got onto her hands and knee’s, limbs shivering as she looked up through the soaking wet hair that had fallen into her face.

Noticing her surroundings, her mouth formed a small O. She was lying in a crystal blue stream. It was very shallow. She seemed to be in a meadow of a forest. The trees were like spindly shadows reaching up and up to the dark sky, black as night. Yet there was a glowing sun, it seemed. Molly noticed that even though she was in an utterly different place, the emerald train was still there, as were the acrobats who looked like shadows themselves, like the trees--standing quietly and watching her.

The one-eyed man stood watching her too. When Molly finally noticed him, he reached out his hand toward her.

“May I have that back, please?” he asked.

Molly realized that she was still holding onto his walnut eye. She scrambled to her feet and splashed through the stream until she was standing right next to him. She hesitated, realizing again how much bigger he was then her, but decided it was only polite to return the walnut to him. The second it touched his hand it disappeared, only to re-appear in his eeye socket. Magic, Molly thought to herself. If her transportation to another world hadn't convinced her, then that finalized it. This was a man of magic.

Molly had always wanted to see magic, but she was so overwhelmed by her new circumstances that she didn't know how to say what she really wanted to which was something like, “please-take-me-on-adventures-and-teach-me-magic-and-show-me-everything!” Luckily, she didn't have to figure out how to articulate this sentiment in a sane way because the the walnut-eyed man seemed to snap into action.

“Right then!” He bellowed, “I'm sure you know why you're here so we'll just get right to it then. The train stops here, so we'll be going by foot and cart. We should get through the woods tomorrow evening if we hurry.”

“Excuse me, sir,” Molly spoke up, “but I don't know why I'm here.”

“Interesting,” the man said, “but it's not my job to tell you. My job is to take you through the woods. We have a show on the other side.” He looked up and addressed his acrobats, “come on you lazies! The carts aren't going to pack themselves!”

REQUIEM ARC GIVEAWAY CONTEST!

There are now officially exactly three copies of Requiem in the world. Just three. In the whole world. One is mine. One is for my dad. And the other... well the other is for one of you! 

What I want to know is why YOU should get that one Requiem ARC! Send me your stories! Are you a crazy Delirium fan? Do you have a great and and funny story that occurred because of your obsession? Happy/sad/good/bad/funny/serious/long/short... I want to read them all! Convince me!

Send all your stories to laurenoliverbooks@gmail.com , and put "Requiem Giveaway" in the subject line. I'll post my favorite stories up here on the blog, and even if you don't get the one copy, you might get on the list for future ARCs or other Lauren Oliver swag.

I can't wait!

Collaboration Challenge 3

Once again, I was so amazed at the wealth of responses for this writing challenge. You guys are so awesome that all I can say is... keep it up! We're already at 800 words which means this story is REALLY HAPPENING!

Special thanks to Ashley S Morgan for contributing this weeks story segment! I can't wait to read what happens next! Get in your 200 word submissions by JULY 26th. to laurenoliverbooks@gmail.com! And thanks so much for going on this literary adventure with me!

Molly Lampart's 12th birthday was much like every other day, only more boring: first tea with the governess and a posed photograph with her parents, then a procession of girls who giggled and brought china dolls wrapped in pink paper, despite the fact that Molly hated pink and that most of her dolls ended up dissected for medical research purposes. There was no sneaking out the door to climb trees in the narrow, well-tended backyard, or hanging out her window hollering at the trains steaming into the station two blocks away, or helping Tabby chase rats from the cellar.
It was a day to be quickly forgotten, except for one thing:


On Molly's 12th birthday, just as evening was starting to turn the sky the exact color pink Molly particularly despised, the emerald train arrived, seemingly out of nowhere.

It started with a rumble, a roar, a whistle, and the earth shook with the effort of keeping the train on its surface. The train was radiant in the dying sun, spraying colors off the emerald sides so that Molly had to shield her eyes just to watch. But the best part, the absolutely most wonderfully breath-taking part of the whole thing, was the fact that it was braking.

The emerald train was stopping in front of Molly's house.

Excitement building, she ran from the window, leaped down the grand staircase,

passed butlers and maids and other people who did not notice the girl flying out the door

of the four-story mansion. Rushing across the gravel walkway, Molly skidded on her

heels, nearly toppling into the stone fountain. 

She felt her jaw drop as her eyes rose to the emerald train stopped in her garden. It was immense, looming, giant, and yet, it was beautiful. For the first time all day, for the first time she could ever remember, Molly felt rather small.

Molly stretched onto her toes, straining to make out the words on the side of the train. She could just make out the words “WALNUT’S WONDROUS” in thin gold lettering, reaching toward the sky, when the train door burst open and. BAM. 

Molly jumped.  To her delight, she saw a flood of brightly colored acrobats pouring from the train cars. Music danced in the air, pounding an infectious rhythm through Molly's bones. She was so transfixed she did not immediately notice the large, dark man who came after them. But soon she felt someone staring at her, and she turned.

There was something wrong with his eyes. One eye looked as dark as the London night, but the other… the other was not real. It was a walnut, carved to resemble an eye. His mouth quirked up at the edges as Molly stared back in fascination, and although she couldn't hear him over the music, she knew what he said when he opened his mouth. 

He said, “Welcome”.

Emboldened by his hospitality, her own curiosity, Molly stepped forward, inching closer and closer, until she felt his breath tickling her forehead. She stared up at him, transfixed by that walnut eye, that strange wooden presence that seemed to be pulsing with life, with magic. On a dizzying, maddening impulse, she reached up and gently traced its swirling groves.

 “Pull it out,” he said calmly, as if suggesting the most natural thing in the world. Molly stared at him in wonder, and her heart began thumping crazily in her chest. Her palms now slick with sweat, she looked at him for reassurance. He nodded. 

She curled her fingers around the edges of the rough bark and gave it a good yank. She felt a sudden blast of wind. And now the man was not a man, but something else: the socket expanded into a gaping black hole. From the blackness emerged a swirling force, like a live coil, like a whirlpool, as rippling and colorful as the acrobats, and it suck her in and down, down, down, making her stomach clench and then expand in a sickening flutter.  After an endless fall, she heard a splash, and felt a fierce, wet coldness turn her bones to ice.

Inspiration for Spindlers

People ask me a lot where I get the ideas for my books, so I thought I'd share the many things that inspired me to write The Spindlers in this video. What inspires you guys to do what you love?

Reader Shout-out!

I want to give a shout-out to some of my awesome readers! The first is Loana, who has designed these awesome Delirium Trilogy t-shirts for her friends at school. I especially love the "I <3 the Wilds" shirt... which is your favorite?

I also want to give props to a young Liesl & Po reader. A while ago I got a letter from a 5th grader named Jordan Liebich who was starting a "Little Free Library" at her school. By soliciting donations, she ensured her schoolmates would have access to free books. She organized and ran the whole thing herself! She sent me this card recently, and I thought her project was just so awesome that I wanted to share it with all of you!

Collaboration Challenge Pt. 2!

Hey guys! I could NOT be happier with all the amazing submissions we got for part 1 of the collaborative writing challenge. In fact, they were so good that I actually chose two to showcase this week! Thanks so much Natalie Geoffroy and Valerie Armour for your fantastic entries! And seriously, all, I was awed by all the submissions.

Anyway, I can't wait to see what happens next in the story! A reminder of the rules: you have a week to turn in your submissions for the next 200 words of the story. (That's July 16th guys!) Also, please note that by submitting your entries you're giving permission for me to edit them (lightly!) and make some minor changes if necessary. Finally, please insert your entry into the body of the e-mail (sent to laurenoliverbooks@gmail.com), no attachments please!

So go ahead: read the developing story, and tell me what happens next! My only advice is to follow the first rule of improv. acting in your writing.... always say "yes... and". This means that when there are dancing acrobats... don't ignore the dancing acrobats! Work WITH the previous parts of the story, not AGAINST it.

Molly Lampart's 12th birthday was much like every other day, only more boring: first tea with the governess and a posed photograph with her parents, then a procession of girls who giggled and brought china dolls wrapped in pink paper, despite the fact that Molly hated pink and that most of her dolls ended up dissected for medical research purposes. There was no sneaking out the door to climb trees in the narrow, well-tended backyard, or hanging out her window hollering at the trains steaming into the station two blocks away, or helping Tabby chase rats from the cellar.
It was a day to be quickly forgotten, except for one thing:
On Molly's 12th birthday, just as evening was starting to turn the sky the exact color pink Molly particularly despised, the emerald train arrived, seemingly out of nowhere.

It started with a rumble, a roar, a whistle, and the earth shook with the effort of keeping the train on its surface. The train was radiant in the dying sun, spraying colors off the emerald sides so that Molly had to shield her eyes just to watch. But the best part, the absolutely most wonderfully breath-taking part of the whole thing, was the fact that it was braking. 

The emerald train was stopping in front of Molly's house.

Excitement building, she ran from the window, leaped down the grand staircase,

passed butlers and maids and other people who did not notice the girl flying out the door

of the four-story mansion. Rushing across the gravel walkway, Molly skidded on her

heels, nearly toppling into the stone fountain. 

She felt her jaw drop as her eyes rose to the emerald train stopped in her garden. It was immense, looming, giant, and yet, it was beautiful. For the first time all day, for the first time she could ever remember, Molly felt rather small.

Molly stretched onto her toes, straining to make out the words on the side of the train. She could just make out the words “WALNUT’S WONDROUS” in thin gold lettering, reaching toward the sky, when the train door burst open and. BAM. 

Molly jumped.  To her delight, she saw a flood of brightly colored acrobats pouring from the train cars. Music danced in the air, pounding an infectious rhythm through Molly's bones. She was so transfixed she did not immediately notice the large, dark man who came after them. But soon she felt someone staring at her, and she turned.

There was something wrong with his eyes. One eye looked as dark as the London night, but the other… the other was not real. It was a walnut, carved to resemble an eye. His mouth quirked up at the edges as Molly stared back in fascination, and although she couldn't hear him over the music, she knew what he said when he opened his mouth. 

He said, “Welcome”.