Lois Lowry's Blog
Those of you who read this blog know that a couple of days ago I mentioned that THE GIVER movie would likely be further delayed because the director wanted to do the final Harry Potter movie first.
I had no inkling what a tsunami that would bring on. I have now been alerted that my small bit of non-news is appearing everywhere and as it takes on momentum it also takes on a life of its own bearing no relation to fact. LOWRY SAYS HER FILM HAS BEEN SCREWED BY YATES is a headline someplace. Harry Potter websites have created lengthy postings about it; hundreds of emails have come to me from strangers; I am about ready to change my name and go live in the outback someplace.
I have sent an apology to the film producer, who was extremely gracious....more than I deserved...in her reply.
I think we tend to forget how quickly the internet snaps and gobbles when prey is offered. I should have recalled a time some years back, when the author Susan Cooper, who had lived in my neighborhood for years, married Hume Cronyn and moved away. Shortly thereafter, in describing where I live (Cambridge, MA) to an audience in Charlottesville, Virginia, I mentioned that many writers live in my Cambridge neighborhood. I began to list a few: Robert Parker, Kathryn Lasky, Susan Cooper...then caught myself, and said, No, sorry, I forgot; Susan's gone now.
The next day the word went out...on the internet...that Lois Lowry had announced the death of Susan Cooper.
Of course I wrote Susan a note of apology and she, like the film producer, was also very gracious.
But jeez! Wouldn't you think I'd have learned by now?!
To me, this blog is like a conversation with a few friends. It always has been. I just schmooze about writing, about my dog and my grandchildren, and often people...strangers, but they feel like pals...send comments and it is all cozy, as if we were sipping tea together.
But today it doesn't feel that way. And today I am abjectly apologizing to everyone in the film industry who has been skewered by increasing misrepresentation of what I thought was a minor, fleeting, ad unimportant bit of news from this snowy farm in Maine.