Tuesday, July 31, 2018

Dig. It's one of my favorite words.

So dig this.

I have a new book on its way. It's called DIG. Here's the cover.

You can read more about it here: 

Or here's my friend Andrew's reaction, which was totally a surprise because I told him not to read the file I'd sent him. And he read it anyway. Because he cannot follow directions:

I've skipped out on this blog all year, pretty much. 
I went to New Zealand. 
I went to Ireland. 
I went to a lot of groovy places and one time I was trapped in a hotel full of Shriners dressed in Wizard of Oz costumes. True story. 
I am working on two more books. 
I won't be around much. 
But consider this your update for now. 
New book. 
Coming March 26, 2019.
It's about a lot of stuff, but mostly it's about family, potatoes, money, love, and whiteness. 

See you soon. 

Friday, April 13, 2018

A poem because I can't tell you the title of my new book yet, but it's done.

It's National Poetry Month.
I never share my poems.
But I'm sharing this one because winter finally left and I had to talk to my daughters today about the rules of shorts. Who knew shorts had rules?

Handbook  (2018)

Here are my thighs.
I’m so sorry I didn’t
check the length
of my shorts,
fingertips are deceiving
and my arms are long
and it’s 85 degrees
and I was hot.
Just slice them off
right down to the femur
nothing in the handbook
about showing bone, is there?
Nothing sexy about bone.
Nothing silky smooth
nothing tanned
nothing toned.

Here are my breasts.

They are on the front
of my body and there
is nothing I can do
about you seeing them.
I’m so sorry.
I’ve covered them
in four layers of
padded polyester.
Makes them look
bigger than they
really are but at least
my nipples aren’t showing.
The handbook
doesn’t say anything
about nipples
but everybody knows 
they are off limits
because they point and jeer
and laugh at you.
No wonder your college
entrance numbers are low.
You are bullied by nipples.

Here are my shoulders.
The worst offenders.
They allow me to do things
with my arms and hands
and when I do things
I sometimes do them
better than you.
And that’s just distracting.
I’m so sorry.
But without them
I couldn’t wear this bra.

Here is my grating voice
my gnawing questions.

Here is my name.
You have trouble
pronouncing it and when you
say it right you want
applause as if you
had to invent something new.
I’m so sorry I wasn’t
born a Smith so this
would be easier.
Here is my daughter.
She is ten years old.
She wished you a
Happy International Women’s Day
and you said
When is International
I’m so sorry.
She doesn’t listen to reason.
She has ideas of her own
and I didn’t raise her to
challenge you
 but to challenge
anyone who tells her
she should cover up
her intellect.

Here is my handbook.

Wear what makes you comfortable
to learn. Wear what
makes you comfortable to
breathe, to live,
to play the saxophone.

Distracting? You wouldn’t know
distracting if it cat-called you
from the staff parking lot.

Distracting? You wouldn’t know
distracting if it grabbed your ass
after algebra class.

Distracting? You wouldn’t know
distracting if it raped you
at the homecoming dance.

I’m so sorry.

I am sending you a package.
Inside are my muscles
sinew that has sinned you.
I am sending you
breasts like fried eggs, sliced
from the place you used to
like to watch them bounce.
I am sending you my shoulders
so I do nothing to make you
embarrassed for me.

Eat them all with a knife and fork.

Put your napkin on your lap
sit up straight.
No elbows on the table.
Manners, please.
I’m so sorry, but if you
don’t abide by these rules
your mother will have to come
pick you up at the office.

A.S. King 2018

Tuesday, October 3, 2017

Publication day from a hotel room with weird decor.

I am in a hotel room. 
It's in New York City so it's a very small hotel room. 
It's cozy, not small. 
I am centering
my text
so you can
get a feel
for how

I've been writing a lot of things. 
This makes me happy and makes me a very bad blogger. 
You will like the things I've been writing. 
You will have to wait a little while before you get to see them, though. 
You know how this train is slow. 
But wait. 
There's something else. 

Today marks the release of two books of mine. 

Still Life with Tornado is now available in paperback. 

And The Dust of 100 Dogs is being re-released into the world today 
via Dutton and its original editor, Andrew Karre. 
I've written about Andrew here before 
so you should know who he is. 

Rad wallpaper, but it's the silver star-shaped thingy that really pulls the room together.
Oh, and this book.

I started The Dust of 100 Dogs
in 1999 and wrote about half of it
in the years 2000/2001. 
At the time,
I was also
a house

Then I had a kid. 
Then I came back to the book 
and I finished it. 
It was

This is the book that earned me 
the most rejection letters.
From the UK first. 
Then the US. 
Probably 140 or so, in all. 
Maybe more.
I rewrote and
re-queried it

Ten years ago, 2007, around now-ish
I got a call from Andrew Karre. 
I had a brand new kid again.
I'd written a few more books
that got rejected. 

Andrew bought the book. 

Photo credit: Michella Domenici

Last night I spoke at Fordham University.
I met and chatted with 
Mary Higgins Clark,
who has sponsored my
writing-centered week in NYC. 
She talked about how 
her first deal,
one that only brought in $3,000,
was her most memorable. 

a career
in writing,
no matter how
good you get at it,
doesn't guarantee
a real 

The Dust of 100 Dogs was my first deal. 
I got paid less than Mary did. 
And it's still the best memory--
that feeling
of having

The Dust of 100 Dogs
has a lot of stories
attached to it. 

There's one about
pitching it to 
an agent
and hearing
 how stupid I was
I told her it wasn't
really about dogs.
She said I was

There's the
stalker guy

There's the American psychological 
litmus test, still in place:
about a character beating 
a dog
in a book which includes
 nearly every type of violence

Ten years of stories. 

I don't know what to say about the last ten years. 
It's hard to sum up ten years of a career that went by so quickly.

But ten years ago, I know I cried.
I sat and cried on my red couch. 
I had a piece of paper
in front of me.
I was supposed to take notes
during the 
phone call. 
I took one note. 
(It read: "Octavian Nothing.")

My 4-year-old

I said,
"I sold a book."

From the blog, 2008. First galleys.

Friday, June 16, 2017

Catching you up through pictures and very short sentences.

I went to Australia. It was freaking amazing. I have pictures.
But first, the basic gist was: I took part in the Reading Matters conference in Melbourne and then went on a regional tour in South Australia. Then my Australian publisher, Text, took me on a little tour and I got to see Sydney and more of Melbourne and talked on some radio shows and all together it was a completely awesome trip.
And the flights weren't as bad as I thought they might be.
And I really want to go back.
Like, now.
Anyway. Pictures.

A post shared by A.S. King (@as_king_) on

A post shared by A.S. King (@as_king_) on

A post shared by Centre for Youth Literature (@centreyouthlit) on

A post shared by A.S. King (@as_king_) on

A post shared by A.S. King (@as_king_) on

A post shared by A.S. King (@as_king_) on

Melbourne from my penthouse suite. 

Danielle Binks is THE BEST EVER.

How long can you blame your spaciness on jet lag? I'm hoping it's two weeks, at least.

I am back inside the book. I am almost done. It's going to be a long one.

Today I found a link to this on Twitter.
It made me cry.
What an educator.
I mean--WHAT AN EDUCATOR. And what a program.
Which is lovely because it's an amazing educator who inspired Ms. G, the educator in the book.
Dear Book Crush readers: Thank you for telling me your stories.

Oh. And news.

The Dust of 100 Dogs is being rereleased this autumn. 
Click on that link to see the new amazing cover.

I'll leave you with this:

A post shared by A.S. King (@as_king_) on

Thursday, April 13, 2017

Places you can see me from now until September.

I'm still inside my book.
It's a very challenging book.
It has to do with potatoes and blenders and the meaning of life.

This is what it looks like inside of a book. (Also, if you haven't been to the AVAM in Baltimore, do it!)

I will be places over the next few months.
Come see me and we can talk about your favorite way to eat potatoes.
Or books. (Recent great books I read: The Bricks That Built the Houses by Kate Tempest, The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead. Reading now: Landscape with Invisible Hand by MT Anderson.)

April 20, 21, 2017
San Antonio, TX

April 22-23, 2017

May 2, 2017 @ 6:30pm

May 20, 2017

June 1-10, 2017
Reading Matters Conference, Melbourne.
Public events 6/9 & 6/10: Melbourne, Sydney, I will be in you. 

September 2-3, 2017
Washington D.C. 

I'll be writing or painting or gardening or swimming or being at the beach (or really mostly writing) in the gaps. If you need me, you'll know where to find me.

Tuesday, March 21, 2017

I know it's been too long.

I know I have two or three Writer's Middle Finger posts to share.

I know I have tour dates (AUSTRALIA!) to post.

But I am inside a book. A very complicated book. And so, I have been very very absent.

But here I am, alive. I post this picture as proof. I'll be back soon.

Wednesday, October 19, 2016

Hey Ma! I'm in People Magazine!

Tuesday, October 18, 2016


from Listening Library

Read by Karissa Vacker

WInner of Audiofile magazine's Earphones Award!

"The skills of author and narrator make a seamless transition into magical realism."


Tuesday, October 4, 2016

A week from now, this shit is official.

The other day I was searching for something specific over here on the blog. It was just a picture. But when I searched I saw posts from way back wherein I used to be funny. (Usually about hotel promotions involving naked ladies or weirdoes who contact me on Facebook.) I'm still funny in real life, but blogging isn't fitting into my real life like it used to.

So here's something funny. 

About six months after explaining the different ways same-sex couples can have children,
the kid brought me this masterpiece. Yes, those are individual sperm cells in what appear to be
clear beakers. I love the bank feel of the whole thing.

In a week, Still Life with Tornado will be out in the world. 

I will be in Arkansas on release day talking with students and the public about all of my books and probably something about a suitcase and succotash. It's good to stay busy on launch day because nothing really happens on launch day in my experience. Somewhere around that day an essay I just wrote for Bustle will be published. That essay nearly ripped my heart out because it was personal. The longer I do this job, the more I wish I wasn't so personal when I write books. I wish I was writing about completely fictional things, which I am, but I'm not, really. People who know me and read my books know the parts that might be real. Although some other people who know me think that the completely fictional things are real and the real things are fictional. You can't help this as a writer. I think it happens to all of us. 

Anyway, when I wrote that piece I wondered who would laugh at the sad experience I shared within. I still wonder. I know at least one person will laugh--and that's not me being paranoid. It's me being real. People laugh at other people's pain all the time. I don't know. I guess I wonder how messed up it is to be one of those people. 

This whole line of thinking relates well to Still Life with Tornado because it does. In a bunch of ways. But since I'm here and talking about it, I'd still like to know who stole my damn senior year art project and stuffed it in my art teacher's patina crockpot two shelves up, behind her desk. While it may have seemed funny at the time, I have a feeling now, 30 years later, whoever crumbled it up and hid it might wonder if they were wrong to do that. Or maybe not. Maybe mean people stay mean and people like me wonder about them 30 years later. Who knows, right? 

Random Sightings

Enough with the deep thoughts. 
Here are some random sightings of Tornado around the place this week...

STILL LIFE WITH TORNADO is one of Apple's FIVE best YA books of October!

"With its unforgettable narrator and its unexpected mix of surrealism, comedy, and tragedy, A.S. King's Still Life with Tornado knocked our socks off. King is known for tackling dark subject matter in her YA bestsellers, and she has serious cred with high school–age readers. But adults will love this book, too, for its wit, intelligence, and dead-on insights on family dynamics and the thrilling, grueling process of growing up."

And a fifth star!

So now I have to go and pack. I'm doing it in a small gate-checkable suitcase, y'all. Unless I'm heading to, like, Australia, I'm not checking baggage ever again. 

Oh yeah. 


I'm Voting. And I want you to vote too. 

Right. Packing. I should do that now.
Arkansas, Wichita & St. Paul, I'm coming your way first! I'll be the one in the wrinkled clothing and probably sandals.


If ever you worried about me getting locked in the trunk of my car--and who hasn't worried about that?--you now know I'm totally safe. (It's glow in the dark! Except how does it recharge it in order to be glow in the dark? This part confuses me. Only one way to find out, I guess.)

A photo posted by A.S. King (@as_king_) on

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Inside my tornado there are tacos and faith

A quick post to say hello (Hello.) and to say hey wow, STILL LIFE WITH TORNADO got its fourth starred review yesterday and I'm kinda tripping about it. I used to eat tacos every time I got a star but last night I opted for fresh corn on the cob here in Amish country. Two ears. It was delicious.

I want to talk about my editor, Andrew Karre. He's a wonderful man and a genius editor. If you're reading this and are still unpublished and you're feeling like it will never happen and you're starting to buy into those conspiracy theories like, "Agents don't want unpublished writers...you have to know someone in NYC to get published...the only people getting published are X,Y,& Z types of writers...no one wants to publish me because I am _________..." let me tell you: I've been there.

From the age of 24 to the age of 40 I wrote novels and didn't get published.
I collected 400+ paper rejection letters. I have no idea how many if we count email once they started using that in publishing.
I wrote 8 novels in that time. If you've read my blog before, you know that those novels were not good enough and I'm okay with that now. But back then? I started to believe the theories. I should be writing different books--not weird books. I should be a man. I should be an older man with NYC connections. I should be someone else. I will never get published if I keep writing what I'm writing.

I once wrote the meanest and most horrible and insane query letter to a random agent. I went off on some tangent about these theories. I blamed him for the state of my non-existent career. I felt the same way I feel now when they make remakes of old movies--WHY REMAKE SOMETHING? THERE ARE NEW ORIGINAL SCRIPTS OUT THERE! In short, I felt like this: WHAT ABOUT MEEEEEEE?

I never heard back from the agent and I'm glad I didn't. God, I was such an asshole in that letter.
Hitting bottom during 15 years of writing and trying happened more than once (still happens, really) but that time I really went too far.
We all do sometimes.
And I hope that agent's assistant deleted my letter immediately and never thought of it again and it isn't printed and hanging on some NYC bathroom wall of desperate-writer shame.

It feels personal, rejection. It feels really personal after 8 books and 15 years. It feels personal when 400+ paper rejection letters are taking up space in your filing cabinet. It feels personal when you see all the books being published and ask that awful question: But why not me? It feels personal when you look inside and make up answers to that question. There can be a lot of crying and destructive thinking and a lot of outward-aimed blame during this time. But eventually, after each blow, I took that personal question and made it into new books. Weird books. Because I write like I write and I can't do much about it.

And then Andrew Karre liked one of my weird books. And he published it. And now I am here, in my office, writing this post instead of writing my next book for him because I'm a little bit burned out at the moment after eight years of writing nonstop in a frenzy of If I stop, I will lose everything I've worked for.

Every time I think about Andrew, and I don't think he knows this, I think about how he saved my life. Not in that way, no. But in the way where someone (me) is meant to do something (write books) for some reason the universe decided and that person does that thing and 15 years go by and the person is starting to lose faith in a serious way and then, BAM! the person's faith is restored. Andrew Karre didn't know I started writing novels at age 24 and had been writing them for 15 years. He didn't know I'd been through any of this. He just liked my book and allowed me the chance of writing and selling another book. He had no idea he was restoring my faith in the universe.


In the last two weeks, I have heard "I'd love to write a book about X, Y, Z, but I don't have time" about nine times. I'm not sure why this is happening in the last fortnight--I've heard it many times before but this is excessive. I even just read it in an article yesterday. Someone saying they'd really like to write a book, but "I don't have the time."

This is the best way to avoid rejection.

It's the best way to avoid haters, bad reviews, and angry letters from readers.

It's the best way to avoid years of asking yourself why not me? 

It's the best way to avoid the whole mess of traditional publishing. (Define that in your own way.)

I used to get really agitated when people said this to me. I still have two other jobs, two growing kids, a lot to do, and I certainly don't have a lot of free time. But the universe wanted me to write books, so I wrote books even when I didn't have time and didn't have money and didn't have faith in the universe's plan for me.

I'm glad I did. Rejections, haters, bad reviews, angry letters, the mess of publishing, and the why not me? have somehow helped me become crazy enough to keep doing this.

And every time I get an email from Andrew Karre, or see a Facebook post like the one above, there's a little sound that goes off in my head and I'm reminded that the universe has a plan for me if I just have faith. PING! That's the sound. PING!

If you're reading this and you're a writer and you want to be a published writer but you haven't quite gotten there yet, hear my PING! Go write more books. Find the time. It's okay that you hit bottom sometimes. When you get there, look for the graffiti I left on the wall the last time I was there.

It says: PING!

A photo posted by A.S. King (@as_king_) on

Thursday, August 18, 2016

Fall 2016 Tour Info

I told you I'd be back. I'm not usually very good with that, so I bet you're surprised. 

I promised you a picture of my basement, which is a pretty weird thing to promise people, but I'm going for it. This is a before and after kind of thing. And it's already old because we now have things down there to sit on and stuff, but hey, you get what you get. 

I can't seem to find a good before picture without the first of the panels up, but this is good enough.
And the after picture is while we were painting the floor.
Also, before I got the sockets wired.
It's now the Ping Pong/music room heaven we dreamed of.
With a washing machine.
Phase two starts in spring. 

I'm really only here to give you some dates. I'm hitting some awesome places I've never been before and I can't wait. 

Come say hello if I'm in your town. 


Bradbury-Sullivan LGBT Community Center
522 W. Maple St.
Allentown, PA
September 28, 2016

Be one of the first to get your hands on this book and join us for food and fun!

Aaron's Books
Lititz, PA
Sunday, October 9th


Note: The party is getting very close to full already. Once we're at capacity, there will be an overflow list in case someone can't make it. If you haven't reserved a spot yet and pre-ordered, do it now.

Can't make it but want to pre-order a signed book?
Order before Oct 7th and get a 15% Discount!


Craighead County Jonesboro Public Library
Jonesboro, Arkansas
Round Room
Tuesday, Oct. 11, 2016


Friday Keynote Speaker
Drury Plaza Hotel
Wichita, Kansas
 October 14-15, 2016


Twin Cities Book Festival
Minnesota State Fairgrounds
St. Paul, MN
Saturday, October 15, 2016


*** Clinton Book Shop ***
Come see me at one of my favorite independent bookstores!
Clinton, New Jersey
Friday, October 21, 2016


*** Children's Book World ***
Come see me at one of my favorite independent bookstores!
Haverford, PA
Tuesday, October 25, 2016


Central Library
400 Civic Center, Tulsa OK 74103
Thursday, October 27th


Texas Book Festival
Austin, TX
November 5-6, 2016
More details TBA


November 12, 2016-ish
More details to come


The ALAN Workshop
Monday Keynote Speaker
Atlanta, Georgia
November 20-22, 2016


Spring 2017 dates to come...
If you're in Portland, Oregon save May 2nd!
And I'll be back in Rochester for the festival again in 2017...May 20th! 

I'll leave you with this promised vague mention of a book for younger readers. 

Here is a lovely cover. 

Coming Jan 31, 2017