Latest news with #debutnovel
CTV News
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- CTV News
Iconic movie inspires Cape Breton writer to take ‘girly' art seriously in new book
Author Veronica Litt talks about her debut novel "Ugh! As If!: Clueless." It's been thirty years since the movie 'Clueless' debuted in theatres and left its indelible mark on a generation. Veronice Litt is an Ontario author who's a resident of North Sydney, N.S. She calls herself an 'unabashed girly art defender' which is one of the reasons her book 'ugh! as if! clueless' was inspired by the 1995 film. 'I think it's really important to amplify optimism and hope,' Litt said. 'I really respect that this movie shows us the beauty, and I think the world-changing power of naiveté and femininity.' The book is meant to be bright, shiny and for girls – just like the movie, Litt said. 'I was going to try to uncover all the things that make this genre so special and resonant.' Litt said she thinks 'Clueless' is still widely discussed because of the movie's high-quality writing. 'It's so sharp,' she said. 'It's so clever.' The iconic lines that stuck with fans of the movie are complimented by a 'big-hearted message,' said Litt. She called it a feel-good movie about a girl who becomes a budding activist and a group of teenagers trying to make a difference in their community. 'This movie really believes that unlikely people can change for the better and contribute to their world,' Litt said. 'That's a message that we're still really interested in hearing.' Litt said she hopes people will get some hope from the book and see it as a model for thinking deeply about popular and 'girly' art. 'I think that this is a really smart form of media if you give it attention.' Litt's debut book, 'ugh! as if, clueless' is available June 3. Clueless Actress Alicia Silverstone is pictured in a still frame from the 1995 movie, 'Clueless.' For more Nova Scotia news, visit our dedicated provincial page
RNZ News
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- RNZ News
Digital Twin: Liann Zhang, Julie Chan is Dead
Photo: Bloomsbury Psychological thriller writer Liann Zhang's debut novel Julie Chan is Dead satirises Instagram and Tiktok stars, social media, status and obsession. When Julie Chan steals her dead identical twin's internet sensation persona she inherits her sponsorship deals, her followers, her wealth, her whole life. Julie Chan had nothing. Her twin sister has everything. Liann Zhang is a second-generation Chinese Canadian, who after a short stint as a skincare content creator, graduated from the University of Toronto with a degree in psychology and criminology. Liann speaks with Susie.
Geek Girl Authority
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- Geek Girl Authority
Crueler Mercies Archives
Avery Kaplan Read Geek Girl Authority's review of Crueler Mercies by Maren Chase, a debut fantasy novel that stands out among the crowd.
Geek Girl Authority
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- Geek Girl Authority
Maren Chase Archives
Avery Kaplan Read Geek Girl Authority's review of Crueler Mercies by Maren Chase, a debut fantasy novel that stands out among the crowd.
CBS News
25-05-2025
- Entertainment
- CBS News
Book excerpt: "Great Black Hope" by Rob Franklin
Simon & Schuster We may receive an affiliate commission from anything you buy from this article. In his debut novel, "Great Black Hope" (to be published June 10 by Simon & Schuster), author Rob Franklin follows a young African American man whose family launched him for success – but after an arrest for drug possession and the death of a close friend, his once-bright future feels anything but guaranteed. Read an excerpt below. "Great Black Hope" by Rob Franklin Prefer to listen? Audible has a 30-day free trial available right now. Prologue In the grand scheme of history, it was nothing. A blip, a breath. The time it took Smith to pocket what might have looked like a matchbook or stick of gum to an unwitting child but was, in fact, 0.7 grams of powdered Colombian cocaine — flown in from Medellín, cut with amphetamine in Miami, and offered to him in Southampton by a boy he knew from nights out in the city. 0.7 grams heavier, he loped back through the crush of rhythmless elbows and cloying perfume, which wafted up and dissolved in the damp and sultry night — the very last of summer. Looking around, it was really just a restaurant. By the front door, at least fifty people huddled, breathing down each other's necks as they shouted the names they hoped would capture the doorman's attention, while in the backyard, hundreds congregated. Dozens of tables now shook with the weight of dancing, bodies alit with the particular mania reserved for the end of East Coast summers, when one becomes aware of the changing season, the coming cold. But for now, it was silk and linen, the expensive musk of strangers. Every face appeared familiar — some because he actually knew them while others only bore a sun-tanned resemblance, the pleasing symmetry of the rich. These were the faces which seemed to populate the whole of his young life: colleagues and one-night stands from the clubs called cool downtown. These faces had appeared at bars, brunches, birthdays, holiday soirees where black tie was optional — and, before New York, in freshman seminars and frat parties and before that, on teen tours or tennis camps with their original forms intact, acne-spotted. And here they'd all come, every one of them, to escape the inhospitable heat of Manhattan and enjoy a seaside breeze. Picture him, stumbling. 6 feet and 3 inches, he towered like a tree, bark-brown and quietly handsome. Picture him crouched in a corner as he snorts from a key, the metallic taste of his tongue. The night gleamed back into clarity as he steadied himself to return — when out of the crowd, two men emerged, stern eyed and square jawed, barking orders he could barely discern. Calmly, he followed — he didn't wish to make a scene — out through a side exit and onto the street, silent but for the bass of a bop that had reigned the charts all summer. Here is where the night splits open along its tight-stitched seam. The realization, arriving at a tan vehicle marked Southampton Police, that these men, though not in uniform, were not the club security he'd assumed at first they were. The night bent surreally. Smith watched himself be searched as if from a perch above, watched his limbs grow limp and pliant as they bent behind his back. The rotated view of girls in wedges: their clothes wrong, the stars wrong. Yes, the greater sense was not of shock, but unreality. All of this was staged. A prank, a punk – the actors in the front seat, too handsome to be cops. The men were swift and practiced as they'd bundled him into the back of the car. After he'd handed over five-hundred dollars cash from an ATM upstairs at the station, they took him down to be printed, ID'd, and photographed. They were done in twenty minutes, after which he was handed a slip and his things in a plastic bag, then sent back out into the wounded night. He called an Uber. On the curb, Smith watched phosphenes blinker in the darkness, a chorus of cameras flashing. He'd worn, in his mugshot, a vintage Marni gingham shirt, loose-fit linen trousers, and a gently startled expression. From "Great Black Hope" by Rob Franklin. Copyright © 2025 by Rob Franklin. Excerpted with permission by Simon & Schuster, a division of Simon & Schuster, Inc. Get the book here: "Great Black Hope" by Rob Franklin Buy locally from For more info:
