Latest news with #Holes'
USA Today
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- USA Today
Louis Sachar won't write a ‘Holes' sequel, but he just released a new book for grown-ups
Don't expect a "Holes" sequel from Louis Sachar. The bestselling author behind the popular children's novel and its 2003 movie adaptation starring Shia LaBeouf is adamant the world of Stanley Yelnats is closed. But, he has a new story for longtime fans – his first novel for adults. 'The Magician of Tiger Castle' (out now from Penguin Random House) is a cozy fantasy set long ago somewhere south of France that follows a tea-obsessed magician who must save the royal wedding after a princess falls in love with a lowly scribe rather than her betrothed. He didn't originally set out to write an adult novel. Talking with USA TODAY ahead of the release, Sachar shares how "The Magician of Tiger Castle" unfolded naturally and what he thinks of the enduring 'Holes' fandom. 'The Princess Bride' inspired Louis Sachar's first adult novel Sachar took inspiration from 'The Princess Bride' by William Goldman – the book that made him want to be a writer. He wanted to try his hand at a similar story. This was during the early days of the pandemic, and Sachar's COVID hobby of choice was online courses about life during the Middle Ages and the Renaissance. He was fascinated by humanity's limited scientific knowledge and the blurred lines between magic and medicine. That's how he created his protagonist, Anatole – kingdom magician, physician and unlikely hero. Once Sachar started writing him, he couldn't stop. 'He'd taken over the story,' Sachar says. 'I liked that. I liked him, but you can't have a 40-year-old man usually be the protagonist of a kid's book. So I said, 'OK, I'll make it an adult book.' Anatole is a sort of 'Miracle Max' type, but more rounded out than Billy Crystal's short movie scenes. He's up to his elbows in quirky, dungeon experiments. He's a tea snob. He's a father figure to both Princess Tullia and Pito, her forbidden love. He's got a plan to save the kingdom, impress his employers, deal with a rather annoying prince and avoid death by tiger. Though Sachar says writing an adult novel wasn't too different from a kid's book ('I wasn't trying to spice it up or anything,' he says), he was able to inhabit a more adult mindset with this protagonist. When he's writing a novel, it becomes his 'reason for getting up every morning,' he says. He found himself becoming Anatole, drinking his daily tea out of a cast-iron pot adorned with dragonflies. On vacation, he spotted a hand-carved mortar and pestle that seemed to jump from the pages. He bought it 'for' Anatole, he says. 'It just seemed like something he would like,' Sachar says. Anatole and the world of Esquaveta, a fictional 16th-century European kingdom, is Sachar to a tee – he likes books that teach him something (in this case, Medieval living), and he's not a fan of high fantasy with intense world-building and battle-hardened heroes. 'I get bored with stories about wars and superheroes,' Sachar says. 'I think it's more suspenseful to actually have someone who's kind of a klutz and kind of a coward have to suddenly be brave, because then you don't know how it's going to come out.' Louis Sachar thanks 'Holes' fans, but still won't write a sequel The magic of a novel like 'Tiger Castle' lies in the cozy afterglow – this feel-good fairytale is packed with whimsy and humor that reads like the grown-up version of 'Holes' or the 'Wayside School' series. Sachar is hoping that nostalgia brings in fans of those books, both of which remain beloved. 'Holes,' especially, has enjoyed long-lasting acclaim. On BookTok, readers rave about it as their favorite book as a kid or encourage a reread as an adult. Sachar says he feels 'more famous' now than he did when he first wrote 'Holes' because of that enduring fandom. But though readers keep asking whether he'll write a 'Holes' sequel, he's confident that world is finished: 'I'm not sure I can get into Stanley's head anymore,' he says. 'I wrote my first children's book when … I was 22 or 23 years old. I worked with kids while I was going to college, I wasn't that far removed from being a kid myself,' Sachar says. 'And now I'm 71 and I'm not sure how well I can relate to kids anymore, so I'd much rather relate to those same kids who grew up reading my books.' Clare Mulroy is USA TODAY's Books Reporter, where she covers buzzy releases, chats with authors and dives into the culture of reading. Find her on Instagram, subscribe to our weekly Books newsletter or tell her what you're reading at cmulroy@
New York Times
02-04-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
A Nail Art Neophyte Sits Down With a Manicurist
When I set out to write an article about the New York-based, Instagram-famous nail artist Mei Kawajiri, I had never gotten a professional manicure before. Or, really, any manicure at all. My mom — a neat freak if you've ever met one — was opposed to manicures on principle, for the fact that nail polish stains. So, growing up, I would go to a friend's house and secretly have her paint my nails, only to use polish remover to scrub away the evidence. Then in high school, I played softball, and, well, I don't know if you've ever jammed your fingers into a dusty leather glove and snared a line drive, but let's just say manicures and softball do not exactly mix. Still, nails have always been an object of fascination for me, whether in the form of Sigourney Weaver's purply-pink rattlesnake venom-spiked talons in the movie 'Holes' or Cynthia Erivo's forest-green ombré acrylics in 'Wicked.' Last year, I stumbled upon the Instagram page of Ms. Kawajiri, who has created elaborate custom nail looks for stars such as Cardi B, Ariana Grande and Bad Bunny. There were nails with hand-drawn portraits of anime heroines. Six-inch acrylic sets embedded with jewels and lace. Tips affixed with 3-D miniatures of asparagus, French fries, hair bows — even dirty socks. These weren't just manicures. They were works of art. So when Dan Saltzstein, the deputy editor on the Projects and Collaborations team at The Times, approached me in January to ask if I had any ideas for an upcoming Art of Craft series about specialists whose work rises to the level of art, I had the perfect candidate. The articles in the series break down an often-complex creation process into easily digestible steps: the nitty-gritty of exactly how someone fashions ornate, $5,000 saddles with a six-year wait time, for instance, or how an avant-garde balloon artist patiently coaxes stubborn latex into ephemeral inflatable sculptures. I had originally been set to attend a photo shoot in mid-February with Ms. Kawajiri and our photographer and videographer, Sasha Arutyunova, but my grandfather died (he was 95), and I had to miss the shoot to attend his memorial service. So I scheduled an interview with Ms. Kawajiri for the following week, and was faced with the challenge of writing an article detailing a three-hour technical process without having observed it. There were different types of nail tips? Of varying sharpness? This was a revelation to me. But over the course of our 90-minute conversation, Ms. Kawajiri walked me through her tools — the brush with a tip as thin as a strand of hair that she uses to create elaborate hand-drawn designs on nails, the eye shadow she sometimes opts for in lieu of gel polish to fill in her finest 3-D shapes, the name of the 3-D gel she uses to sculpt miniature croissants and suitcases. I asked about how things worked, or how the steps unfolded, when I couldn't fill in the blanks. What is a base coat? What is a topcoat? What is the difference between a gel manicure and a regular one? Ms. Kawajiri was very patient. And, in a way, my reporting required more sustained concentration than if I had watched her work. It was all part of a conundrum for journalists that comes up often: Is it better to be knowledgeable about a given topic, enabling you to ask informed or nuanced questions, or to be a neophyte, coming to a story fresh, the way many readers do? I'm sure an artistic nails enthusiast, or someone who has had even one manicure, would have asked more about specific techniques. But my inexperience ultimately — I hope — made for a clearer and more accessible article for readers who also didn't know the first thing about nail art. I came away with an appreciation for the artistry that goes into creating mind-boggling levels of detail on a minuscule canvas. I listened as Ms. Kawajiri explained her fascination with nails as a form of self-expression. I loved that she found inspiration everywhere, including in her real life, drawing from objects as mundane as her baby's bottle. I was reminded that no question is too small to document the exacting process it takes to create something deceptively complex. I'm learning alongside the reader, so any questions I have are ones my audience will likely share. That's one of the great joys of journalism — I write about people and places I never would have imagined, and I'm often surprised by the level of effort that goes into seemingly simple creations, whether that's a poem, the Oscars red carpet or a set of potato chip-inspired nails. And don't worry, mom — my own nails are still boring, pink and clean as ever.
