Results for "heather swain"

In the future, food is gone.In Thalia’s world, there is no more food and no need for food, as everyone takes medication to ward off hunger. Her parents both work for the company that developed the drugs society consumes to stave off any food cravings, and they live a life of privilege as a result. When Thalia meets a boy who is part of an underground movement to bring food back, she realizes that there is an entire world outside her own. She also starts to feel hunger, and so does the boy. Are the meds no longer working?Together, they set out to find the only thing that will quell their hunger: real food. It’s a journey that will change everything Thalia thought she knew. But can a “privy” like her ever truly be part of a revolution?

Zephyr Addler has a problem. Her boyfriend, Timber, is now her ex, because she was keeping secrets from him. But what else can she do? After all, it's not that easy being an elf in the middle of Brooklyn - especially when she's not allowed to use magic to hide her family's quirky elvin ways. To make matters worse, Bella, the meanest girl in school and Zephyr's archrival, has vowed to make Zephyr's life a living nightmare. Can Zephyr keep it together long enough to win Timber back, or will she give in to temptation and work some forbidden elven magic in the school halls?

We are our stories. We tell them to stay alive or keep alive those who only live now in the telling. That’s how it seems to me, being alive for a little while, the teller and the told.So says Ruthie Swain. The bedridden daughter of a dead poet, home from college after a collapse (Something Amiss, the doctors say), she is trying to find her father through stories—and through generations of family history in County Clare (the Swains have the written stories, from salmon-fishing journals to poems, and the maternal MacCarrolls have the oral) and through her own writing (with its Superabundance of Style). Ruthie turns also to the books her father left behind, his library transposed to her bedroom and stacked on the floor, which she pledges to work her way through while she’s still living.In her attic room, with the rain rushing down the windows, Ruthie writes Ireland, with its weather, its rivers, its lilts, and its lows. The stories she uncovers and recounts bring back to life multiple generations buried in this soil—and they might just bring her back into the world again, too.