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  • Quiver
  • Written by Stephanie Spinner
  • Format: Paperback | ISBN: 9780440238195
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  • Quiver
  • Written by Stephanie Spinner
  • Format: eBook | ISBN: 9780307433657
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Quiver

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Written by Stephanie SpinnerAuthor Alerts:  Random House will alert you to new works by Stephanie Spinner

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List Price: $5.99

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On Sale: December 18, 2007
Pages: 192 | ISBN: 978-0-307-43365-7
Published by : Laurel Leaf RH Childrens Books
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READER'S GUIDE READER'S GUIDE
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mythology (9) fiction (9) young adult (7) ya (6) fantasy (6) atalanta (5)
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Synopsis|Excerpt

Synopsis

Greek gods and mortals spring to life in this riveting retelling of the myth of Atalanta, the fleet-footed girl warrior who could outrun any man in ancient Greece.
Cast off and abandoned at birth, Atalanta– saved by a she-bear and raised by hunters–proves herself to be a superior archer and the fastest runner in the land. But her skills and independence anger many, including her father, the Arcadian King, who suddenly reclaims her and demands that she produce an heir to the throne. Atalanta has pledged herself to Artemis, goddess of the hunt, who has forbidden her to marry. Unwilling to break her promise, Atalanta suggests a grim compromise: she will marry the first man to beat her in a race, but everyone she defeats must die. All the while, Artemis, Apollo, Aphrodite, Eros, and Zeus himself watch–and interfere–from on high.


From the Hardcover edition.

Excerpt

ONE

The caw of a crow warned me first. Then it was their smell--so rank it made my eyes water.

I had never been so close to centaurs before, though of course I had seen them. There were many in my native Arcadia--wild, filthy creatures, notorious for their lack of restraint, and far more dangerous than satyrs. When they drank--as they often did, to excess--they would rape and beat whatever women they could find, which was why women never ventured into the forests alone.

I am not alone, I reminded myself, I am with the Hunt, in Calydon.

Yet the centaurs were at hand, and the other hunters were too far off to be of help, should I cry out.

I would not; I would rather die.

They came at a gallop, legs churning, chests heaving.

I could run as swiftly as they. Indeed, I could outrun most creatures, human or otherwise. But there were two of them, and they were lust-maddened.

I drew my bow.

On they came, one with a torn ear, the other with a bulbous, red-veined nose. They were large and coarse and frightening, with none of the capering insolence that made their goat brothers almost endearing. Both had rough piebald coats, long, matted tails, and hooves as big as mallets.

Their stink was fearsome.

I shot the one with the red nose first. He reared. I hit him again, and he fell, snorting blood. I loosed two arrows, then three, at the other. He was so close when he toppled that I could feel his heat. He cursed me, groaning and choking. I backed away. They were huge creatures, and their great hooves kicked out as they died.

"Safe crossing," I whispered.

Then I heard a soft whistle that rose and fell like a question--Meleager, looking for me.

I signaled back and he emerged through the trees. As I moved toward him, I saw the concern in his dark eyes fade, and he smiled broadly.

He is relieved, I thought, knowing it was more than relief that lit up his face. We had met only days before, when the Hunt assembled at his father's palace, and since then Meleager had paid me many small courtesies--inquiring after my comfort whenever we chanced to meet, asking my opinion of his weaponry, introducing me to his beloved hounds. I required no more than any of the men, yet he sought me out time after time.

I was flattered by his interest, for I liked him. He was straightforward and guileless, a man who preferred his hounds to his father's courtiers. He was a decent hunter, too--very good with the javelin, and passable with a bow. The dark stories about his fate--some said he carried a birth curse--made me feel a kind of kinship with him.

Nevertheless, I had no desire for romantic entanglements. Like the men, I was here for glory. Moreover, I had taken a vow of chastity in honor of Artemis, and I intended to keep it. Seeing the yearning in Meleager's eyes, I resolved to tell him of my vow as soon as I could.

I raised a finger in warning. I had lost the boar's scent, but he was cunning, and might be nearby. The sight of the slain centaurs stopped Meleager, but when he looked at me inquiringly I shook my head; explanations would have to come later. I started back up the hillside and he followed.

Before long we could hear the others thrashing through the trees. Then all twenty-seven members of the Calydonian Boar Hunt came marching downhill in crescent formation, armed to the eyebrows. No living thing in the forest could miss hearing them, or seeing them, either. They moved without stealth, as if they were storming the walls of some hapless enemy city.

I was certain that the boar would attack soon, and now, as the great hunt party advanced, I knew I had missed the chance to flush him out myself. I might have done it, I thought, if not for those stinking centaurs. They had likely cost me the head and pelt, and now the prizes of the hunt would go to one of the men. More than half of them were Argonauts--the intrepid, battle-scarred band who had sailed with Jason in search of the Golden Fleece. The adventure had made them heroes, and in the manner of heroes, each one of them considered victory his due.

"Why did you leave?" whispered Meleager.

"I smelled him--" Then it came again, a heavy mix of smoke and fat and marshland mud, and with it, tremors like those that shake the earth before it rips apart. He was very near.

The hounds bayed. Then one of them screamed--a death cry. Meleager froze. His Laconian hounds were very dear to him.

"There!" I pointed to a place fifty paces off.

He was bigger than a bull, with bristles like skewers and filthy tusks as long as javelins. Steam came off his body like the foul nimbus of some underworld being; even in morning light, he seemed to stand in gloom. The hound on his tusk was dead, and he rid himself of it impatiently, tossing his massive head and stamping so that the ground shook. Then he wheeled--swiftly for all his bulk--to regard us with eyes as small and red as pomegranate seeds. It was the look of a beast without predators, who had never felt fear.

My arrow was nocked, but Echion ran at the boar shouting, and when he flung his spear, I hesitated. Even as the spear fell short, the boar charged. Echion's twin, Erytus, along with Jason, Eupalamus, and Iphicles, scrambled away as the creature hurtled at them like a rock from a catapult, crushing everything in its path. It trampled hounds, flattened trees, and flung Eupalamus and Iphicles aside as if they were made of straw.

Then Jason threw, but his spear went wide. He flattened himself on the ground, drawing his great shield over him as if he were a giant tortoise. Erytus was nimble also, using his long spear to vault out of the beast's way, and landing in a tree. Young Hippasus lacked the experience--and the luck--of his comrades; the boar veered suddenly and gored him before he could escape. He fell and lay still, arms and legs askew.

Undaunted, Mopsus rushed forward. It was said he was gifted with the Sight, and could understand the language of the birds. Now he cried out to Apollo, Lord of the Silver Bow.

"If I have been your faithful worshiper, great Apollo," he cried, "grant me good aim!" He must have been heard; his spear flew straight and true.

Indeed, it should have killed the boar. Yet its jagged iron head came off in flight, and when its wooden shaft hit the boar's neck, it bounced to the ground as harmlessly as a broom handle.

Meleager hissed in amazement.

The boar grunted, flicking its tail.

An all-consuming lightness, like heatless fever, came over me. My skin prickled as if a storm were coming, and my hearing grew so acute that I imagined I could hear the slow lap and surge of blood under my skin. I knew the signs; I had known them since girlhood.

The goddess, I thought. She is here.

Apollo had heard Mopsus. But Artemis, who had sent the boar to plague King Oeneus for failing to sacrifice to her, even now intervened.

Goddess, I am yours, I murmured. If it pleases you, guide my hand.

The boar lowered its head to charge at Mopsus, and at that instant my shot came clear. Flying as if Artemis herself had loosed it, my arrow struck the boar's neck and pierced its bristled hide. Blood spurted where it hit. Whispering my thanks, I flushed with pleasure; there was honor in drawing first blood.

The beast shook its massive head, but the arrow stuck. Mopsus fled as the boar danced in fury, squealing.

"Do you see?" cried Meleager. His voice thrilled with such emotion that the shot might have been his. "Atalanta has hit the boar!"

Apollo: You might have let Mopsus take that shot, you know. He did invoke me.

Artemis: Yes, but she's been praying to me for weeks. I had to give it to her.

Apollo: Are you going to help her kill it, too? That would certainly cause an uproar.

Artemis: It would. But there are other, even more interesting possibilities. And the hunt is far from over.

Apollo: You frighten me sometimes.

Artemis: I'm your older sister. I probably should.


From the Hardcover edition.
Stephanie Spinner

About Stephanie Spinner

Stephanie Spinner - Quiver
A little about my life
I was born in Davenport, Iowa, and grew up in Rockaway Beach, New York. I read straight through my childhood, with breaks for food, sleep, and the bathroom. I went to college in Bennington, Vermont, moved to New York City, and took a job in publishing so I could get paid for reading. I read so much bad fiction that I needed a break, so I moved to London, and from there I traveled to Morocco, Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan India, Nepal, and Ceylon. I came back to America, wandered around some more–to Mexico, Guatemala, and Belize–and on returning to New York decided to study Tibetan Buddhist painting (called thangka painting) in Boulder, Colorado.
I painted thangkas for many years. Each one took anywhere from several weeks to a few months to complete, and at long last I understood that this was not the ideal way for me to make a living. Only a few hundred Americans collected thangkas, and they wanted old ones, painted by Tibetan monks. It was time to make a change.
So I took another publishing job, this time in children’s books. I found that I liked children’s books a lot, and before long, I became an editor.
Years passed. I was encouraged to write. I scoffed at the idea that I had anything to write about. I edited some wonderfully talented authors–Virginia Hamilton, Philip Isaacson, Clyde Robert Bulla, Gloria Whelan, Robin McKinley, Joan Vinge, Garth Nix, and Chris Lynch, among others–with great enjoyment. Writing seemed like torture by comparison.
Then, to my amazement, I found myself writing a book and having a good time–simultaneously! The book was ALIENS FOR BREAKFAST, and I enjoyed writing it because my co-author was Jonathan Etra. Jon (who died of heart disease in 1990), was a close friend with a wild sense of humor, and collaborating with him changed my opinion of writing forever. After ALIENS FOR BREAKFAST, and ALIENS FOR LUNCH, which we also co-wrote, I began to think that writing could be interesting fun.
And now that I’ve been doing it full-time for seven years, I can tell you why I like it better than a job. First, I can work in my bathrobe. (To the FedEx man and the UPS man, I am “the woman in the plaid flannel robe.”) Second, I can eat when I’m hungry, choose when to take phone calls, and walk my dog at 12 and 6. Third, the only meetings I have–and they’re short--are with the dry cleaner and Mike the postal worker. Fourth, I can read whatever I please. I may tell people I’m doing research when I read about horse-trekking, or hunting in ancient Greece, or 16 ways to better compost, but the truth is, I’m not doing research, I’m having a good time. Which I think is still allowed.
Career Advice: If the life of a born-again bookworm sounds appealing to you, consider becoming a writer.

Frequently asked questions
1.How do you get the ideas for your books?
The start of something can pop into my head at any time. I’ve often had good ideas on waking, yet another reason to get a good night’s sleep.
2. How do you work when you collaborate with someone?
Depends who it is. When I worked with my friend Jon Etra, I had a full-time job and he didn’t, so he agreed to supply a first draft, chapter by chapter. I rewrote his material, and did all the revisions. We outlined our books together in great detail. And we followed the outlines at least half the time.
When I worked with my friend Terry Bisson, we were both writing full-time, so we took turns generating chapters, and then revising them. We also outlined our books together carefully, and then forgot the outlines once in a while.
Career advice: If you plan to collaborate with another writer, pick one with a really good sense of humor.
3. How did being an editor affect your writing?
I had high standards. I was conscious of the marketplace because I was in the business. I was careful about deadlines. And, knowing their importance, I was horribly demanding about copyediting, artwork, cover copy, and marketing copy. In short, I was the writer from hell, and I still am.
4. When did you know you wanted to be a writer?
There was no single moment of blinding light. It came on gradually, like a disease.
5. Describe your work habits.
I write in the morning for a few hours, break for the afternoon, and get back to work after tea/dog feeding. When I’m working very hard, I’ll write in the evenings, too. At such times I use the morning to revise what I’ve written the night before.
6. Who are your favorite writers?
The list is long, and changes all the time. Charles Dickens, Isaac Babel, Jorge Luis Borges, Robert Stone, Isaac Singer, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Angela Carter, Beryl Bainbridge, Clyde Robert Bulla, William Gibson, John Cheever, Paula Fox, Homer, Ovid, Mary Renault, Philip Larkin, Bill Bryson, Cecilia Holland, Don DeLillo, Sir Thomas Malory, and on and on.
7. Do you have any advice for aspiring writers?
Bernard Malamud once said, “Writers kiss with one eye open.” In other words, there’s an watcher in the writer that almost never takes time off. I’d say, foster your curiosity, be observant, take notes, read a lot, and pay attention to the way good writers write–you can learn from them.
Reader's Guide|About the Book|Author Biography|Discussion Questions|Suggestions

About the Book

The World of Mythology

Stories of a world filled with gods and goddesses and imaginary people and places are called myths. Written to entertain and enlighten, all myths:

• Lack identifiable authors
• Exist in multiple versions
• Are transmitted by oral tradition
• Seek to explain the origins of the world, human society, and culture

The gods and goddesses of mythology rule the lives and control the fate of mortals; the gods expect devotion and punish mortals who don’t pay them the proper respect. To anger a god or goddess is sure to bring death and destruction, but to have a god or goddess show you favor is sure to bring you joy and love. The gods themselves have no code of ethics to follow, and therefore, do whatever they please to whomever they please.


Pre-Reading Activity

In order for students to better understand the gods and goddesses in these books, have them read the “Author’s Note” and “About the Gods” in Quiver by Stephanie Spinner; the “Afterword” in Goddess of Yesterday by Caroline B. Cooney; and the “Genealogy of the Gods in this Tale,” “Cast of Characters,” and “Afterword” in The Great God Pan by Donna Jo Napoli. Then discuss with your students the implications the information might have on the story. Draw a genealogy chart on the board tracing the gods and goddesses your students read about in the selections you have assigned.

About the Guide

“Fiercely original and beautifully written, Quiver is a book for all readers who love Greek mythology.”
–Mary Pope Osborne, author of Favorite Greek Myths and Tales from the Odyssey

King Iasus has summoned his daughter Atalanta with a simple, chilling command: marry and produce an heir. Fleet-footed Atalanta, determined not to betray Artemis, goddess of the hunt and mistress of the wild, counters with a grim proposal. She will marry the first man to outrun her in a footrace, and those she defeats must die. It is Atalanta’s desperate hope that no man will be foolish enough to meet her challenge.

About the Author

Stephanie Spinner is the bestselling author of many books for young readers, including Aliens for Breakfast (with Jonathan Etra) and Expiration Date: Never (with Terry Bisson).


From the Hardcover Library Binding edition.

Discussion Guides

1. Atalanta wants no romantic entanglements because she has taken a vow of chastity in honor of Artemis. (p. 6) Why would a vow of chastity bring honor to Artemis? When Atalanta broke her vow by marrying Hippomenes, did she dishonor Artemis? Why or why not?

2. When Jason asks Castor if he could buy one of his bows, which he has heard are perfect, Castor refuses because “he had strong opinions about perfection. He said it was hard to find, harder to achieve, but hardest of all to forget.” (p. 29) What did Castor mean? Can you give an example of perfection–or striving for perfection–that fits this statement?

3. Artemis sends a wild boar to plague King Oeneus for failing to sacrifice to her, and as a result, the king and queen die and all their heirs are killed or turned into guinea hens. (pp. 10 & 27, respectively) On page 14, Ancaeus claims, “No goddess can protect the boar from this,” (meaning his two-edged ax). Atalanta is aghast that he would insult Artemis, goddess of the hunt, and is not surprised when he pays for his reckless comment with his life. The punishments King Oeneus and Ancaeus suffer do not seem to fit the crime. What does this tell you about the power and lack of mercy the gods feel toward mortals? What present-day sins, misjudgments, or actions occur where the punishment seems extreme?

4. The running commentary between the gods and goddesses about the events as they occur gives the reader insight into their thinking. How does this commentary affect your attitude toward the mortals? Toward the gods and goddesses? What “gods and goddesses” are present today that rule over our lives? What would they say about us?

5. When Atalanta sets forth conditions for her suitors to meet, she feels sure that the threat of death will keep all suitors away. However, she learns that the threat of death is alluring to some, and many come to win her hand. Honoring her conditions means death for many men, and Castor has taught her that honor is keeping one’s word. Can you think of another way Atalanta could have honored her word without causing death? What other consequence could she have set that would not have meant death?

6. The punishment meted out by Zeus to Atalanta and Hippomenes for desecrating sacred ground seems cruel, but is it? Is there any way that Atalanta and her mate benefit from what Zeus does?

Suggested Readings

Goddess of Yesterday
Caroline B. Cooney
Grades 7 up
Delacorte Press hardcover
0-385-72945-6

The Great God Pan
Donna Jo Napoli
Grades 5 up
Wendy Lamb Books hardcover
0-385-32777-3

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