Pumpkin Wars

It’s almost time for Halloween, boys and girls! It’s that very special time of year when we get to cast off the shackles of sartorial convention and embrace the thespian in us all. Or, as Sue Sylvester puts it, it’s “that day when boys dress like girls and girls dress like—” well, you get the picture. Add to this an abundance of pasties, puffs, candies, and chocolates, two healthy dollops of the macabre and the supernatural, and a wild saturnalia or six, and you have one of the most bizarre, hedonistic celebrations America can claim.

In other words, my favorite holiday.

I love the costumes. I love the candy. I shriek like a goosed parrot every time I go into a haunted house or hear a ghost story, but deep down I love the creeptacular too.

Sometime between birth and second grade, Halloween ceased to be a single day for me and gradually became its own season, one that did not truly start until my sister and I had picked and carved our pumpkins. For most children, carving pumpkins is a fun, straightforward event that begins in the pumpkin patch and ends with grinning (or leering) jack-o’-lanterns proudly displayed on porch steps. My sister and I, however, made a point to never do things simply if there was a more convoluted method to be had.

In my family, picking a pumpkin was not so much a selection process as it was a competition between sworn enemies to nab the perfect specimen of pumpkin-ness. My sister and I entered the pumpkin patch like drag racers armed with wheelbarrows. Bolting down the rows of squash and gourds, we set our sights on the orange prizes and piled our carts high. Trash talk—such as eight- and ten-year-olds could invent—was common.

“My pumpkin’s bigger than your pumpkin.”

“Well, my pumpkin’s prettier than your pumpkin.”

“That’s not a pumpkin.”

“Yes, it is.”

“It’s white. Pumpkins are orange.”

“It’s a ghost pumpkin, duh. And besides, you can’t even lift your pumpkin, so mine’s better, so there.

Though bitter rivals in the field, once our chosen pumpkins were in hand (and loudly touted as the Best Pumpkins Ever), my sister and I always joined forces in order to plan the best way to lobotomize them.

Insert evil laugh here Photo credit: Doctor Dan on Wikimedia Commons

Our parents never let us cut the tops off ourselves (hyperactive children + pointy objects = bad idea), but that didn’t stop me from laughing like a mad scientist when the lids were finally removed and the pumpkin brains exposed. Pointedly eschewing the spoons our parents had left out for us, my sister and I would fill our hands full of pumpkin innards and parade the goop around the kitchen, trying to smear the stuff on each other and bellowing “Guuuuuuuuuts!” like pumpkin zombies.

Eventually, we would remember why we had cut open the pumpkins in the first place and get down to carving them. In this I was always at a disadvantage, not for lack of skill (though that was admittedly scanty) but because, somehow or another, I always managed to pick the thickest pumpkin in the entire patch. (To this day, I have yet to pick a pumpkin that did not turn out to be denser than a steel bunker. I have come to believe that pumpkins, in general, must have some sort of gourdish vendetta against me.)

My kit of dinky kids’ carving knives were never a match for the thick shell, so I usually resorted to hacking away at the inside with a spoon while my sister tried to hide her smirk. She could smirk all she wanted. I had my perfect pumpkin, and now Halloween could begin.

Marit Hanson is the (other) new editorial intern at Fulcrum. Hailing from that bastion of snow and Scandinavians—Minnesota—she is a Wikipedia addict, chocoholic, and faithful advocate of all snark.

Like this?

Make sure to check out Gloria Evangelista’s addition to the Halloween canon, In Search of the Perfect Pumpkin.

Better yet, enter Fulcrum’s In Search of the Perfect Pumpkin giveaway and win the book in time for Halloween!

And for some truly impressive pumpkin carvings/designs, check this out.

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All Hail the Noble Pumpkin

You could win this very book. Yes, you.

There’s still time to enter our In Search of the Perfect Pumpkin giveaway. Tweet us @FulcrumBookstag Fulcrum Publishing on Facebook, or reply to this entry with your favorite ways to enjoy a pumpkin to enter for a chance to win a copy of In Search of the Perfect Pumpkin by Gloria Evangelista.

Giveaway ends on October 31, so there’s plenty of time to find the perfect pumpkin!

As part of all things pumpkin, this fabulous pumpkin fry bread recipe from The Mitsitam Cafe Cookbook by Richard Hetzler is a great way to use to leftover pumpkin pie puree:

1 ½ cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
½ cup milk
1 teaspoon corn or canola oil, plus more for deep-frying
2 tablespoons pumpkin puree
¼ cup finely diced uncooked butternut squash

In a medium bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, and salt. Stir with a whisk to blend. In a small saucepan, heat the milk over the low heat until warm. Stir in the 1 teaspoon oil. Gradually stir the milk mixture into the dry ingredients to make a thick dough. Stir in the pumpkin puree and butternut squash until combined.

On a floured board, divide the dough into 6 pieces. Form each into a ball. Cover the dough balls with a damp towel and let rest for 15 to 20 minutes. Roll out each ball into a disk about ¼ inch thick. Using a sharp knife, cut an X in the center of each dough disk.

In a Dutch oven or deep fryer, heat 3 inches oil to 350°F on a deep–fat thermometer. Fry the dough one piece at a time until golden brown, about 2 minutes on each side. Using tongs, transfer to a paper towel-lined plate to drain. Keep warm in a low oven while frying the remaining disks. Dust the hot fry bread with confectioners’ sugar and cinnamon or serve with warm maple syrup.

Giveaway Winner

TricksterCongratulations to Laith Preston, the winner of our Banned Books Week giveaway! Laith is the lucky lucky winner of one copy of Trickster: Native American Tales, A Graphic Collection.

 

Thanks to everyone who entered. Don’t forget, there’s still time to enter to win our Perfect Pumpkin giveaway.

Banned Books Week—More Banned Books We Love

In honor of Banned Books Week, our staff is sharing their experiences with banned books, and at the end of the week, we’ll give away a copy of Trickster: Native American Tales, A Graphic Collection to one of our randomly selected blog subscribers.To enter the giveaway, just subscribe to our blog via the e-mail subscription link. To enter additional times, you can blog, tweet, or update your status on Facebook with a link over to the giveaway (tag @FulcrumBooks on Twitter and @FulcrumPublishing on Facebook), or “like” Fulcrum Publishing on FacebookJust be sure to leave a separate comment for each entry and leave the link to each one.  The contest ends on October 3.

From our editor, Carolyn Sobczak:

I finally read Robert Cormier’s The Chocolate War a couple of years ago, having somehow made it through my middle and high school classes without it being assigned reading. What struck me most, reading it at age 32, wasn’t how many times Jerry, the protagonist, thought about masturbation and sex, or how bad the language was (commonly cited “problems” with the book)—it was how the adults in the book ultimately fail the youngsters. (This is just my interpretation, of course. Maybe you wouldn’t read it that way…or maybe that’s the real reason the book’s been challenged so many times.)

I admit that I was upset when I closed this book, but that’s the effect a rich and complex story can have. I wondered how a teen might respond and what my then classmates would have said. There are so many great discussion topics to consider: What is the nature of the world? Can we work against the status quo? What is right and wrong? And that’s just the beginning.

I wish someone would have suggested to me that adults aren’t infallible. I wish that before I went to college I would have understood what all those bumper stickers meant that said Question Authority, and why it’s important to do so. I wish The Chocolate War had been required reading.

Carolyn is an editor at Fulcrum, where she prides herself on encouraging her authors to produce the best books possible. She enjoys projects that are both intelligent and highly readable, like Ted Gioia’s The Birth (and Death) of the Cool.

From our editorial intern, Jessica Engman:

Fahrenheit 451 is a science fiction novel about a dystopian society where books and all printed material are banned because of the fear that books create individualism and freedom of thought, enabling people to rise up against their government. The protagonist, Montag, is a fireman, but not the kind who puts out fires—he burns books. Fahrenheit 451 is the temperature at which books burn.

Fahrenheit 451 was first banned because of its use of words like damn or hell and because the Christian Bible was one of the books that was burned and destroyed. Ironically, Fahrenheit 451, a book that condemns censorship through its portrayal of it, was banned in schools because many groups feared that it advocated anti-Christianity and governmental suppression.

A Light in the Attic by Shel Silverstein

Okay, concerned mothers of America, I’ll give you the fact that Shel Silverstein was a mildly controversial figure. A man who writes for both Playboy and 2nd graders is bound to be. But, speaking as a former 2nd grader and faithful memorizer of good ol’ Shel’s poetry, I feel like I owe him a little love during Banned Books Week.

A few years ago, a mother was outraged by one of Shel’s poems, “Little Abigail and the Beautiful Pony,” and tried to have it banned from the shelves of her daughter’s elementary school. She took issue with the dark outcome of poor little Abigail. (“If I don’t get that pony I’ll die,” Abigail said. And she did.)  She felt that it was giving children the wrong idea, and that ultimately the poem promoted suicide and the manipulation of adult figures. (Because it would never have occurred to children to beg for ponies without Shel.)

While readers (i.e., children) may sympathize with Miss Abigail, I am happy to report that not only was I not permanently scarred as a child by the poem, I hardly remember it. Instead, I remember counting down the days until I could afford my own “Homework Machine,” only mine would know that nine plus four is not three, and fighting an internal battle whenever I had to dry the dishes after supper. (Thank you, “How Not to Have to Dry the Dishes”). But I knew if a dish ever “accidently” slipped and shattered on the linoleum, my mother would be onto me. After all, she’s the one who read the poems to me before I could read them myself.

Which is why, years later as an older and wiser camp counselor, I used to read the poems to my campers. On rainy nights, we would create a tent in the cabin made of safety-pinned sheets and a roaring fire of piled up flashlights. And we would read Shel Silverstein. They now know all about how to catch a moon (“Moon-catchin’ Net”), the proper use of kitchen utensils to form their own rock ‘n roll bands (“Rock ‘n’ Roll Band”), and what happens if a whatif (“Whatif”) crawls into their ear. And you know what’s amazing? I’m sure none of them ever tried to put a brassiere on a camel (“They’ve Put a Brassiere on the Camel”).

Still, it’s amazing to see that even though Shel is only living now in the memories of children and adults who love his stories, his writing continues. Every Thing, a new book out this month, carries on his tradition for wacky words and stirring insight into the minds of the forever young.

An ode to silly poems by a man named Shel:

 

Beware of those hills, er, holes.

Banned Books Week—Weetzie Bat

In honor of Banned Books Week, our staff is sharing their experiences with banned books, and at the end of the week, we’ll give away a copy of Trickster: Native American Tales, A Graphic Collection to one of our randomly selected blog subscribers. To enter the giveaway, just subscribe to our blog via the e-mail subscription link. To enter additional times, you can blog, tweet, or update your status on Facebook with a link over to the giveaway (tag @FulcrumBooks on Twitter and @FulcrumPublishing on Facebook), or “like” Fulcrum Publishing on FacebookJust be sure to leave a separate comment for each entry and leave the link to each one.  The contest ends on October 3.

Today’s blog post is from our sales and marketing associate (and your friendly Fulcrum blogger), Dani Perea.

Weetzie Bat by Francesca Lia Block wasn’t explicitly banned from our school library (it was on the shelves, right next to Witch Baby, which I had read and loved because of Witch Baby’s cowboy boot roller skates). But when I tried to check it out in fourth grade, the librarian aide, after gazing at the back of the book jacket, walked around the counter, took the book out of my hands, and hissed, “Young ladies should not be reading these sex books.”

In an instant, my mild interest in getting this book to read on the bus to Hebrew school grew tenfold. My tiny fourth grade mind was all, SEX book?! Give it here, lady.  But the librarian aide wasn’t having it—she pointed back to the stacks and glared at me.

At that point, curiosity had already overtaken the portion of my brain that handles restraint and lawfulness. I had been checking out Stephen King and Michael Crichton books from the military base library all summer without anyone batting an eye, and there was lots of sex and swear words and glorious violence in those. What was so naughty about this book?

I made a big show of shuffling back to the stacks while I secretly slipped the book inside my coat. I hadn’t learned shoplifting from books—that was thanks to my older cousins who taught me to smuggle schnapps out of my grandfather’s garage.

It turns out that Weetzie Bat didn’t compare to the lust and gore of King or Crichton. Instead, that night I read an airy confection of a story, written in dreamlike prose, about two best friends who made a family amidst the new-wave punk/surf scene in Los Angeles. There wasn’t any explicit sex, just the admission that sex exists and that people have it for all kinds of reasons. One of the main characters was gay and talked candidly with another character about AIDS. A central message of the book was about making a family, which can happen in all kinds of ways besides a heteronormative nuclear unit. I’m not sure what the librarian aide saw on the book jacket to react so strongly—perhaps she read the name of one of the characters, Secret Agent Lover Man.

The story didn’t perform any transformative tricks on my young, innocent worldview, but Francesca Lia Block’s surreal, surfer-slang style of writing did inspire me to write my first novel. Which I proceeded to do, on those bus rides to and from Hebrew school. It was a comedy about a fourth-grade girl with superpowers who fights aliens on a battleship and then becomes president of the United States. I mailed it to HarperCollins, handwritten on 50 sheets of wide-ruled paper, sure that I’d be a best-selling author with my own mansion by fifth grade, but they never responded. (Ahem, if you’re reading HarperCollins, I’m still waiting on that response.)

I wasn’t gutsy enough to smuggle the book back into the library. It’s still on my bookshelf with the plastic library jacket and check out card pocket, and on the inside cover is the word CONTRABAND, printed in careful block letters by the hand of a fourth-grade thief.

Dani Perea is the marketing and sales associate at Fulcrum Publishing. Ever since working in a comic shop as a teenager, she has bought her books, instead of stealing them. When she’s not wearing her sales and marketing top hat, she enjoys punk rock, a rousing game of tumbleweed chasin’, and gazing at vast desert skies filled with stars, preferably all at once.

Banned Books Week—Julie of the Wolves

In honor of Banned Books Week, our staff will be sharing their experiences with banned books, and at the end of the week we’ll give away a copy of Trickster: Native American Tales, A Graphic Collection to one of our randomly selected blog subscribers. To enter the giveaway, just subscribe to our blog via the e-mail subscription link. To enter additional times, you can blog, tweet, or update your status on Facebook with a link over to the giveaway (tag @FulcrumBooks on Twitter and @FulcrumPublishing on Facebook), or “like” Fulcrum Publishing on FacebookJust be sure to leave a separate comment for each entry and leave the link to each one.  The contest ends on October 3.

Today’s blog post is from our editorial and production manager, Haley Berry.

When our marketing team asked us to write about a banned book, I was surprised to see one of my favorites, Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George, on the list. I had to google it to see the objections to the book (marital rape scene), and I had to admit I didn’t remember that part of the story. The part that had stuck in my impressionable young brain was when the main character eats food regurgitated by a wolf. That’s hard core.

I didn’t love the book because I was shocked or felt like I was reading something I shouldn’t; I loved it because the story spoke to the independence I so craved. I was hungry to prove myself, to have my own place in the world. After reading Julie of the WolvesMy Side of the Mountain, and Hatchet, when I was eleven you could have parachuted me into the wilderness and I would have been really happy about it (for a while, anyway). Because after reading those books, I looked at myself and knew I could survive, that I was smart enough and strong enough. Whether that’s true is definitely debatable. I probably would have starved to death or fallen out of a tree or something within a week or two. Still, those books gave me confidence and fed my already independent spirit. What’s not constructive about that?

I can’t imagine what I’d be like if my parents had kept certain books from me. Neither of my parents have a college degree, so they were happy I was hoovering books and that BOOK IT! was giving me free pizzas for it. They figured if it was in the school or town library, then it was probably safe. In short, I was reading Stephen King and watching Predator at nine. That’s likely objectionable to a lot of parents, but I’m so grateful mine didn’t keep certain books and movies away from me. Living in a small town, books provided so many experiences and viewpoints that I never would have had access to otherwise. They made my world bigger and my choices more informed.

But here’s the funny part: my mother never attempted to censor any books or movies, but she was terrified about my exposure to MTV or music with “dirty” lyrics. Makes you scratch your head, doesn’t it? She almost blew a vein when I brought home Alanis Morissette’s Jagged Little Pill, which drops a single F-bomb. One curse word equaled one really big fight, and I was sent to my room (sans Alanis), where I probably curled up in bed to finish Lady Chatterley’s Lover or Go Ask Alice.

Haley is the editorial and production manager at Fulcrum. Some of her favorite Fulcrum authors include Craig Barnes, Dick Kreck, Mitch Tobin, Amy Masching, Kirk Johnson, and Anita Thompson. She’s happy to spend her days working with talented designers and editors (and marketers!), and to have finally found a world that embraces word nerds. If Haley were a book, she’d be a petite paperback with matte lam, flaps, and a deckled edge.

Banned Books Week—In the Night Kitchen

In honor of Banned Books Week, our staff will be sharing their experiences with banned books, and at the end of the week, we’ll give away a copy of Trickster: Native American Tales, A Graphic Collection to one of our randomly selected blog subscribers. To enter the giveaway, just subscribe to our blog via the e-mail subscription link. To enter additional times, you can blog, tweet, or update your status on Facebook with a link over to the giveaway (tag @FulcrumBooks on Twitter and @FulcrumPublishing on Facebook), or “like” Fulcrum Publishing on FacebookJust be sure to leave a separate comment for each entry and leave the link to each one.  The contest ends on October 3.

Today’s blog post is from our special sales manager, Ingrid Estell.

In the Night Kitchen (978-0-06-026668-4) by Maurice Sendak was published in 1970 and received well-deserved honors: 1971 Caldecott Honor Book, Best Books of 1970 (School Library Journal), Best Illustrated Children’s Books, and Children’s Books of 1970 (Library of Congress), just to list a few. It also weathered protests: how could a children’s picture book depict a naked child? And from the same and other detractors, how could cake be advocated for breakfast? While I’m not sure Sendak advocates for anything but a magical expression of the world as children see it, I would have loved cake for breakfast in 1970. I was the perfect age to enjoy In the Night Kitchen then, but I didn’t have the book read to me and it certainly wasn’t in the small-town elementary school I attended.

My earliest recollection of Sendak’s work dates to 1975 when I read Where the Wild Things Are to my brother ten years younger than me. It would be another ten years before I read a copy of In the Night Kitchen. Not long after my daughter was born, I purchased a set of Maurice Sendak books for her. I was attending college and had taken children’s literature classes, had discussed various banned books, and had discovered my small-town library did not have a copy of In the Night Kitchen, nor had it ever had one.

With what lewdness had Sendak drawn his character Mickey? I was curious to see, as I had my own small child. The first time I opened In the Night Kitchen, I entered a wonderful dreamworld of a little boy in a baker’s kitchen. I happily followed along as Mickey floats from panel to panel, discovering the night kitchen. As the dream progresses, Mickey’s pajamas float here and there, and he’s left, for a page or two, tastefully and in not much detail, naked. This was it? This was what all the fuss was about?

As I mentioned before, I attended a small-town school and that small town was in a very rural area. I grew up outside that small town on a dryland farm, and most of the kids I knew grew up on farms or ranches. Without exception, we all knew what body parts went with what gender, not just for people, but for animals too. The little boy penis in Sendak’s book was a lot less “shocking and disturbing” (to use a phrase applied to In the Night Kitchen) than dairy cow propagation at the local 4-H meeting.

I still laugh to think of what the schoolteachers and librarians were trying to protect me and the other local children from. Thankfully, I finally discovered the book on my own and enjoyed it with my two children. Buy a banned book this week. Read and learn to decide for yourself!

Ingrid Estell is Fulcrum’s special sales manager and places Fulcrum’s titles with museums, state and national park stores, and many others. In her time away from the office, she enjoys skiing, hiking, and white-water rafting.

Banned Books Week—The Catcher in the Rye

In honor of Banned Books Week, our staff will be sharing their experiences with banned books, and at the end of the week, we’ll give away a copy of Trickster: Native American Tales, A Graphic Collection to one of our randomly selected blog subscribers. To enter the giveaway, just subscribe to our blog via the e-mail subscription link. To enter additional times, you can blog, tweet, or update your status on Facebook with a link over to the giveaway (tag @FulcrumBooks on Twitter and @FulcrumPublishing on Facebook), or “like” Fulcrum Publishing on FacebookJust be sure to leave a separate comment for each entry and leave the link to each one.  The contest ends on October 3.

Today’s blog post is from our designer, Jack Lenzo.

The Catcher in the Rye

There is something especially satisfying about reading a banned book. My first encounter with banned books came as a young teen. My mom ran the bookstore at Holy Cross Jr. College in South Bend, Indiana (the very same place where Rudy went to get better grades so that he could go to Notre Dame and play one down in a football game that was already over).

I was a freshman at the high school next door and had to help my mom out during registration because for one week at the start of each semester it was crazy busy. The reason I mention this is that in what seemed like a fairly conservative place, I kept handing these young impressionable students a stack of books that included The Catcher in the Rye. And every time I grabbed it off the shelf, my mom felt the need to comment on what a horrible, filthy book it was and couldn’t believe that it was being assigned in class.

Okay, let’s stop there and reflect. What would your thirteen-year-old self have done? Of course I read it. Anything that could incite such an impassioned response from my mom, time and time again, was clearly something I had to get my hands on. So there I was, reading The Catcher in the Rye with the satisfaction of the guilty. It did a couple of things for me.

First and foremost, it inspired me to start making up my own freakin’ mind. If a priest (or a brother…I can’t quite remember which vows this particular professor had taken) and my mom can have a differing opinion on the value of a book, what else was out there in the world? Books often make very different impressions on people based on when in their lives they read them. And hell, she may have never even read it herself and instead just passed along yet another person’s take whose opinion might have had some agenda that my mom failed to convey. You just never really know. Reading that book was the only morally ambiguous thing that a man of the cloth ever inspired in me. Can you imagine a world where this could be the norm? If they can read it and still be priests, I probably wouldn’t go to hell for reading it, so read it I did.

Aside from opening my eyes to choices outside my mom’s iron curtain, reading The Catcher in the Rye showed me that banned books, much like the rest of life, are mostly hype. I was actually disappointed by the general lack of offensive material. And when it came down to it, I thought Salinger’s Franny and Zooey was a much better book. But I wouldn’t have been able to form that opinion if I were afraid to read it in the first place. And that’s really what banned books are about: fear. Someone is afraid you will lose all ability to be yourself (or perhaps what they want you to be) if you are allowed to read a book, which is just ridiculous.

A special thanks to that priest (or brother) who indirectly opened my eyes to the possibility of creating my own reading list and thinking for myself.

Jack is the designer at Fulcrum. He appreciates looking out his window and seeing mountains instead of cornfields, and bumper stickers that say Naive instead of Native. Some of his favorite projects have been ones that have overlapped with and informed his own experiences in the West.

Pumpkin Fest at the Denver Botanic Gardens

On Saturday, October 8, and Sunday, October 9, the Denver Botanic Gardens at Chatfield are hosting Pumpkin Fest.

Pumpkin, I choose you!

Pumpkin. Fest. Let’s break this down, shall we?

Pumpkin:

If you’re autumn-obsessed, like me, pumpkins are kind of a big deal. They appear every fall, stuffed with beta-carotene and ripe with possibilities: pie, jack-o’-lantern, pumpkin seed depository. I love pumpkins so much, that on the first day of fall, I pay homage to their king by watching The Nightmare Before Christmas.

All hail the Pumpkin King. Photo Credit: Warner Brothers

Fest:

A shindig. A hootenanny. A party. From the Latin festivus, which basically means “Party on, Romans!” (Disclaimer: this blogger was a terrible Latin student).

Pumpkin Fest clearly = pumpkin shindig.

And more. The Botanic Gardens are offering pony rides; face-painting; amusement rides; an activity tent with arts and crafts, pumpkin bowling, and monster hand building; a barrel train; and, best of all, a tour of fairyland guided by the Harvest Faerie.

There’s also a corn “maize” next door. Who doesn’t love a corn maze?

Actual photo of Fulcrum blogger lost in a corn maze. Hint: all paths lead to Pumpkin Fest.

We thought that our readers would be just as excited about this sweet opportunity as we are. So, we’re giving away a free book.

Win this book.

Tweet us @FulcrumBooks, tag Fulcrum Publishing on Facebook, or reply to this entry with photos of you, our dear readers, with pumpkins to enter for a chance to win a copy of In Search of the Perfect Pumpkin by Gloria Evangelista. Pumpkin carving, pumpkin eating, pumpkin throwing—we don’t really care as long as we see your lovely faces with a pumpkin.

Giveaway ends on October 25, so there’s plenty of time to find the perfect pumpkin!

Win a Copy of Serengeti on Goodreads and LibraryThing!

For our readers on Goodreads and LibraryThing, we’re offering two giveaways for Serengeti: The Eternal Beginning.

Goodreads Book Giveaway

Serengeti by Boyd Norton

Serengeti

by Boyd Norton

Giveaway ends October 5, 2011.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

Enter to win

LibraryThing members can enter to win here.