I think that Sarah Moffet said it best in a comment here:

This weekend I visited the Twilight Zone. It was supposed to be the National Book Festival, but I must have made a wrong turn off Constitution Avenue. Instead of stumbling onto a somber, sparsely attended book fair, I found the Mall overtaken by the masses, who were beaten back from overrunning authors by platoons of Junior League members. Even more terrifying were the forty-people-deep lines for the vegetarian vendors (and believe me, half the people in those lines were not vegetarians), rivaled only by the wait to purchase books in the sales tents. People, everywhere, were carrying armfuls, bags, and strollers of books.

America reads. Who knew?

Yes folks, Sarah is talking about the National Book Festival. It's that one, special time of year when writers travel from all corners of the world and all walks of life to converge under large, outdoor tents with the sole purpose of speaking to their captivated audiences about the power of the written word. Well, and to promote their latest works, too. Let's be honest. :)

The 7th annual National Book Festival took place in Washington, DC this past Saturday. It was brought to you by first lady of these United States, Laura Bush, the Library of Congress, and Dr. Billington, the Librarian of Congress. Don't tell me you've never heard of the Library of Congress? Well, they're only just the BIGGEST library in the country! Here to preserve information and help promote literacy throughout our great nation, the Library of Congress is akin to... well... the mother ship of all Dewey's Decimals. But don't just take my word for it, here's what they have to say about themselves on their website:

"The Library's mission is to make its resources available and useful to the Congress and the American people and to sustain and preserve a universal collection of knowledge and creativity for future generations."

Boo yah! Word. And so forth... At any rate, they're a really big deal.

This was WORD's second year in attendance and let me tell you, we were thrilled. To be able to sit on the outskirts of a book and listen to the person responsible for it is something no silly blog entry can relate to you. Who's your favorite author? Have you ever seen him/her in person? No? Oh, you simply must! Keep your eyes open for when they're coming to your town. Most authors have websites these days. You can track them down like the hungry bibliophile that you are. Just... be careful of psychotic tendencies. Please.

At any rate, WORD was there. It was a gorgeous late September day and the authors were in bloom. Mystery writers, biographers, fantasy word smiths, illustrators, poets, historians, young adult novelists, and plot maestros of all genres got up on stage, one by one, and spread their good words out to us--to all of us eager readers, who would love for nothing more than a good book to curl up with (and maybe a wasted cliche to spot every once in awhile just to say, "Hey! I got my eye on you... writer!").

You see, writers in general are an unpredictable brood. You never know when a writer is going to say something profound... or flake out. Public speaking is not always a writer's forte. But in this case, you're not going to show up to the National Book Festival and give a half-hearted shpeel like, "Well, duh, I dunno why I write books. I guess it's because I like... you know... like to uhhh, write... or something."

Oh no no no. These heavy hitters are the real deal. And later this week, you will see for yourself what I mean.

Stay tuned...

In the meantime though, you can check out last year's coverage of the 2006 National Book Festival by clicking here and/or here.

OR!!! ...

You can check out the National Book Festival Young Readers' Online Toolkit! Yah! Totally! Do that! Do that right now by clicking here!  

This past Friday I was in New York. The city. Ask me if the brights are light. Go on? ... Well they are.

The YPulse Tween Mashup was held at the Jacob Javits Center. If you've never been there, it's this big, long building that houses, among many other things, the Book Expo America.

YPulse is this whole other web site out there in www land. It's also a finger on a pulse (the name is not accidental). It is dedicated to understanding what makes tweens tick. Cuz as it turns out... you're quite an interesting bunch. :)

Hosted by Anastasia Goodstein (YPulse's puppet-master and author of Totally Wired: What Teens and Tweens Are Really Doing Online), the event was a mix of old school practices and the wave of the future. There's a whole lot of both out there. You probably don't remember this, but there was a time long ago when there were no computers. There were no cell phones or emails. No iPods or earmuffs. Nah, I'm just kidding. The world has always had earmuffs.

Here's a question for you: Which do you prefer?
a) texting your friends
b) emailing your friends
c) talking on your cell
d) writing a letter in longhand scripture using a quill and ink before having to walk all around the house searching everywhere for an envelope and a stamp and then having to, after all that work, walk to the mail box or the post office and mail the thing

No! It's a serious question! Leave a comment below. Tell us a, b, c, or d... and tell us why.

But that's what the Mashup was all about. It was a bunch of old folks sitting around in a room, scratching their heads and saying, "Um. Does anyone understand tweens? ... Hello? ... lil' help?"

So have you ever heard the word "tween" before? Maybe sometime 'tween lunch and dinner? Well, it's nothing to be afraid of. It's not a label or a brand name. It's just a way of classifying. Like Gen X or horseshoe burns on a bull's... no, I kid. Here's what the Urban Dictionary has to say about it:

Tween: A word that is used by marketers to describe youths between the ages of 10-13. Although some believe that tweens are actually between the ages of 10-15. Despite the fact that tweens have always existed, marketers continue to lay claim to discovering them. ... No one discovered the tweens.

Ha! Right on. Embrace your 'tween-dom while you have it, friends.

So as a tween, what are your favorite web sites? Keep in mind, this is not a ploy. If you say, "WORD", you will not get a free tee shirt (although we will be flattered). Just curious is all. Tell you what though, if you write up just a few paragraphs about your favorite web site, we just might post your writing here. Put "favorite web site" in the subject line of an email and send it to word@weeklyreader.com. Make sure and tell us why you love it!

YPulse: It's a neat thing. In this day and age, we're all wired. The old and the young alike. We might as well have some dialogue about this cyberspace place... right?

What's up?

Later this week: More from the YPulse Tween Mashup...

Coming this week to a bloggy near you...

Coverage of the YPulse Tween Mashup in New York City

AND

Coverage of the National Book Festival in Washington, DC

Stay tuned...

Did you ever stop to wonder where certain words came from? (OK, probably not. You all have busy lives, I know.) But if you did stop to think about it, you might be surprised to learn that a lot of words are actually eponyms.

According to an article on CNN article on CNN, a lot of odd words were actually named after people. Like the word 'dunce' was named after John Duns Scotus. A lot of people thought the guy's scientific theories were pretty dumb. Soon anyone with a dumb theory was a 'dunseman.' Later, the word morphed into the word we know today.

That's pretty bad.

There are some people who have accomplished good things, and their names have become words. Take Gabriel Fahrenheit's name, for example. I mean, everyone likes knowing what the temperature is and all.

But if my name were to become an eponym, what would it mean? Would 'pulling a Jessica' mean succeeding while be kind, generous, and all-together awesome? (An example of usage: Wow, Mike got voted captain of the football team today. He  deserves it because he works really hard and lead his team to victory. He really pulled a Jessica.)

More than likely though, 'pulling a Jessica' will come to mean spilling soda on your keyboard and having to call the computer guys to get you a new one.

I don't think I like that one bit.

So, what other words do you know that are eponyms? If your name becomes an eponym, what will it mean?

In the premiere issue of READ this year, we asked you to write a conclusion to the story Bad Blood. The following is how Carly Arias envisioned it continuing...

Beyond Bad Blood
 - Carly Arias, Grade 8

"Maybe." I said. I looked down at the highway ahead of me. "Then again, maybe not."

Those were the last words that I said to my dad that day. Now, after two years of road tripping, I'm finally going back to that little town in Ohio. My corvette, still red and delicious, has been my one an only love.

Every night all I can think about is poor old Mrs. Anderson dying alone. As I'm driving down the road to the old house and its memories all I can do is tremble. Tremble with the fear of remembering things. Tremble with the fear of seeing her ghost. Tremble thinking, "Did she die because of me?"

As I drove past her house, to my surprise the lights were on. As I got out of the car quietly, I saw a vague image of a man standing near the window. I went around back, peeked in, and immediately dropped to the floor. I blanked out and saw what was like a "movie" in my head about Mrs. Anderson looking at her son, Gary's, picture. Then I awoke. As I looked in the window again... the man was still standing there. I squinted to see his face... it was Gary!

I ran and jumped into the car. Quickly locking the doors I thought, "Is it Gary's ghost coming back to haunt me, or was he never really dead?"

I turned the car on and backed out of the driveway. Down the road about two miles or so was a motel. I checked in, got my stuff and headed into the room. The second I stepped in the room I got a whiff of something. It was neither bad nor good. It was familiar. It smelled like Mrs. Anderson's house. That dusty colonial smell.

The next day I drove past the house again and saw the door and windows open. So, I parked my car a little down the street and walked to the house. I walked in and saw Gary. He sprinted towards me and knocked me on the floor. He started to scream. "You! You are the one who killed her!" Then he vanished.

I drove as fast as I could back to the motel. I ran into the room, locked the door, and hid under the covers. I eventually decided that I would have to face my fears. The next day, I went to the house one last time. When I saw Gary, I called out his name. He vanished and then appeared right behind me. I told him how I was sorry--how I never meant to hurt him or his mom. I decided to return the car to him. I handed him the keys just as a white light flashed... and he disappeared. This time for good.

My nightmares were over.