Showing posts with label film trilogy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label film trilogy. Show all posts

Friday, May 1, 2026

πŸ“˜πŸŽ₯Friday's Film Adaptation(Star Wars Week)πŸŽ₯πŸ“˜: The Phantom Menace by Terry Brooks




Summary:

Star Wars Episode #1
#1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, an evil legacy long believed dead is stirring. Now the dark side of the Force threatens to overwhelm the light, and only an ancient Jedi prophecy stands between hope and doom for the entire galaxy.
 
On the green, unspoiled world of Naboo, Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn and his apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi, arrive to protect the realm’s young queen as she seeks a diplomatic solution to end the siege of her planet by Trade Federation warships. At the same time, on desert-swept Tatooine, a slave boy named Anakin Skywalker, who possesses a strange ability for understanding the “rightness” of things, toils by day and dreams by night—of becoming  a Jedi Knight and finding a way to win freedom for himself and his beloved mother. It will be the unexpected meeting of Jedi, Queen, and a gifted boy that will mark the start of a drama that will become legend.

Features a bonus section following the novel that includes a primer on the Star Wars expanded universe, and over half a dozen excerpts from some of the most popular Star Wars books of the last thirty years, plus a brand-new Darth Maul short story by New York Times bestselling author James Luceno!

Original Audiobook Review April 2026:
I originally read Phantom Menace upon release back in 1999 but just now listened to the audio and it all came flooding back. Now, obviously as a film novelization more than an adaptation, everything about the movie is there and as a SW fan since I was 4, I know the movies backwards, forewards, side to side, and every otherr direction you can create but it's the added pieces of info the author has added that came flooding back. The emotions, internal monologues, scenery, just all those little tidbits that created a more complete picture, 27 years and its all still in mind, bringing back those flashes of joy as I read this before seeing the movie waybackwhen. I know it's an unpopular opinion but I actually love Jar Jar so having a wider picture of him was always a treat, getting to know him before I saw him, which perhaps is why I love him.

RATING:



Tatooine
The suns burned down out of a cloudless blue sky, washing the vast desert wastes of the planet in brilliant white light. The resultant glare rose off the flat, sandy surface in a wet shimmer of blistering heat to fill the gaps between the massive cliff faces and solitary outcroppings of the mountains that were the planet's sole distinguishing feature. Sharply etched, the monoliths stood like sentinels keeping watch in a watery haze.

When the Podracers streaked past, engines roaring with ferocious hunger and relentless drive, the heat and the light seemed to shatter and the mountains themselves to tremble.

Anakin Skywalker leaned into the curve of the raceway that took him past the stone arch marking the entry into Beggar's Canyon on the first lap of the run, easing the thruster bars forward, giving the engines a little more juice. The wedge-shaped rockets exploded with power, the right a tad harder than the left, banking the Pod in which Anakin sat sharply left to clear the turn. Swiftly, he adjusted the steering to straighten the racer, boosted power further, and shot through the arch. Loose sand whiplashed in the wake of his passing, filling the air with a gritty sheen, whirling and dancing through the heat. He ripped into the canyon, fingers playing across the controls, hands steady on the steering.

It was all so quick, so instantaneous. One mistake, one misjudgment, and he would be out of the race and lucky if he weren't dead. That was the thrill of it. All that power, all that speed, just at his fingertips, and no margin for error. Two huge turbines dragged a fragile Pod over sandy flats, around jagged-edged mountains, down shadowed draws, and over heart-wrenching drops in a series of twisting, winding curves and jumps at the greatest speed a driver could manage. Control cables ran from the Pod to the engines, and energy binders locked the engines to each other. If any part of the three struck something solid, the whole of the assembly would collapse in a splintering of metal and a fiery wash of rocket fuel. If any part broke free, it was all over.

A grin split Anakin's young face as he injected a bit more power into the thrusters.

Ahead, the canyon narrowed and the shadows deepened. Anakin bore down on the slit of brightness that opened back onto the flats, keeping low to the ground where passage was widest. If he stayed high, he risked brushing the cliff faces on either side. That had happened to Regga in a race last month, and they were still looking for the pieces.

It would not happen to him.

He shoved the thruster bars forward and exploded through the gap onto the flats, engines screaming.

Sitting in the Pod with his hands on the controls, Anakin could feel the vibration of the engines travel up the control cables and fill him with their music. Wrapped in his rough-made jumpsuit, his racing helmet, his goggles, and his gloves, he was wedged so closely in his seat that he could feel the rush of the wind across the Pod's skin beneath him. When he raced like this, he was never simply the driver of a Podracer, never just an additional part. Rather, he was at one with the whole, and engines, Pod, and he were bound together in a way he could not entirely explain. Each shimmy, each small throb, each tug and twist of strut and tie were apparent to him, and he could sense at any given moment exactly what was happening throughout the length and breadth of his racer. It spoke to him in its own language, a mix of sounds and feelings, and though it did not use words, he could understand everything it said.

Sometimes, he thought dreamily, he could sense what it would say before it even spoke.

A flash of gleaming orange metal shot past him on his right, and he watched the distinctive split-X of Sebulba's engines flare out before him, taking away the lead he had seized through an unusually quick start. His brow wrinkled in disgust at himself for his momentary lapse of concentration and his dislike of the other racer. All gangly and crook-legged, Sebulba was as twisted inside as out, a dangerous adversary who won often and took delight in doing so at the expense of others. The Dug had caused more than a dozen crashes of other Podracers in the past year alone, and his eyes glinted with wicked pleasure when he recounted the tales to others on the dusty streets of Mos Espa. Anakin knew Sebulba well--and knew better than to take chances with him.

He rode the thruster bars forward, fed fresh power to the engines, and rocketed ahead.

It didn't help, he supposed as he watched the distance between them narrow, that he was human or, much worse, that he was the only human ever to drive in the Podraces. The ultimate test of skill and daring on Tatooine and the favorite spectator sport of the citizens of Mos Espa, it was supposed to be beyond the skill and capability of any human. Multiple arms and multihinged joints, stalk eyes, heads that swiveled 180 degrees, and bodies that twisted as if boneless gave advantages to other creatures that humans could not begin to overcome. The most famous racers, the best of a rare breed, were strangely shaped, complexly formed beings with a penchant for taking risks that bordered on insanity.

But Anakin Skywalker, while nothing like these, was so intuitive in his understanding of the skills required by his sport and so comfortable with its demands that his lack of these other attributes seemed to matter not at all. It was a source of some mystery to everyone, and a source of disgust and growing irritation to Sebulba in particular.

Last month, in another race, the wily Dug had tried to run Anakin into a cliff face. He had failed only because Anakin sensed him coming up from behind and underneath, an illegal razor saw extended to sever Anakin's right Steelton control cable, and Anakin lifted away to safety before the saw could do its damage. His escape cost him the race, but allowed him to keep his life. It was a trade he was still angry at having been forced to make.

The racers whipped through columns of ancient statuary and across the floor of the arena erected on the edge of Mos Espa. They swept under the winner's arch, past row upon row of seats crammed with spectators cheering them on, past pit droids, repair stations, and the boxes where the Hutts watched in isolated splendor above the commoners. From an overlook in a tower centered on the arch, the two-headed Troig who served as announcer would be shouting out their names and positions to the crowd. Anakin allowed himself a momentary glimpse of blurred figures that were left behind so fast they might have been nothing more than a mirage. His mother, Shmi, would be among them, worrying as she always did. She hated watching him drive in the Podraces, but she couldn't help herself. She never said so, but he thought she believed that simply by being there she could keep him from coming to harm. It had worked so far. He had crashed twice and failed to finish even once, but after more than half a dozen races he was unharmed. And he liked having her there. It gave him a strange sort of confidence in himself he didn't like to think about too closely.

Besides, what choice did they have in the matter? He raced because he was good at it, Watto knew he was good at it, and whatever Watto wanted of him he would do. That was the price you paid when you were a slave, and Anakin Skywalker had been a slave all his life.

Arch Canyon rose broad and deep before him, an expanse of rock leading into Jag Crag Gorge, a twisting channel the racers were required to navigate on their way to the high flats beyond. Sebulba was just ahead, rocketing low and tight across the ground, trying to put some distance between Anakin and himself. Behind Anakin, close now, were three other racers spread out against the horizon. A quick glance revealed Mawhonic, Gasgano, and Rimkar trailing in his strange bubble pod. All three were gaining. Anakin started to engage his thrusters, then drew back. They were too close to the gorge. Too much power there, and he would be in trouble. Response time in the channel was compacted down to almost nothing. It was better to wait.

Mawhonic and Gasgano seemed to agree, settling their Pods into place behind his as they approached the split in the rock. But Rimkar was not content to wait and roared past Anakin split seconds before they entered the cleft and disappeared into darkness.

Anakin leveled out his Pod, lifting slightly from the rock-strewn floor of the channel, letting his memory and his instincts take him down the winding cut. When he raced, everything around him slowed down rather than sped up. It was different than you'd expect. Rock and sand and shadows flew past in a wild mix of patterns and shapes, and still he could see so clearly. All the details seemed to jump out at him, as if illuminated by exactly what should make them so difficult to distinguish. He could almost close his eyes and drive, he thought. He was that much in tune with everything around him, that much aware of where he was.

He eased swiftly down the channel, catching glimpses of Rimkar's engine exhausts as they flashed crimson in the shadows. Far, far overhead, the sky was a brilliant blue streak down the center of the mountain, sending a frail streamer of light into the gap that lost brilliance with every meter it dropped so that by the time it reached Anakin and his fellow racers, it barely cut the dark. Yet Anakin was at peace, lost deep within himself as he drove his Pod, bonded with his engines, given over to the throb and hum of his racer and the soft, velvet dark that folded about.

When they emerged into the light once more, Anakin jammed the thruster bars forward and streaked after Sebulba. Mawhonic and Gasgano were right behind. Ahead, Rimkar had caught Sebulba and was trying to edge past. The lanky Dug lifted his split-X engines slightly to scrape against Rimkar's Pod. But Rimkar's rounded shell eased smoothly away, unaffected. Side by side the racers tore across the high flats, headed for Metta Drop. Anakin closed on them, drawing away from Mawhonic and Gasgano. People said what they wanted about Watto--and there was plenty to say that wasn't good--but he had an eye for Podracers. The big engines jumped obediently as Anakin fed fuel into the thrusters, and in seconds he was drawing alongside Sebulba's split-X.

They were even when they reached Metta Drop and rocketed over and tumbled straight down.

The trick with drops, as every racer knew, was to gather enough speed going down to gain time over your opponents, but not so much speed that the racer couldn't pull out of the drop and level out again before it nose-dived into the rocks below. So when Sebulba pulled out early, Anakin was momentarily surprised. Then he felt the backwash of the split-X engines hammer into his Pod. The treacherous Dug had only looked as if he would pull out and instead had lifted away and then deliberately fishtailed atop both Anakin and Rimkar, using his exhaust to slam them against the cliff face.

Rimkar, caught completely by surprise, jammed his thruster bars forward in an automatic response that took him right into the mountain. Metal fragments of Pod and engines careened away from the rock wall in a fiery shower, leaving a long black scar along the ravaged surface.

Anakin might have gone the same way but for his instincts. Almost before he knew what he was doing, at the same instant he felt the backwash of Sebulba's engines slam into him, he lifted out of his own descent and away from the mountain, almost colliding with a surprised Sebulba, who veered off wildly to save himself. Anakin's sudden wrenching of his Pod's steering took him spinning away into the midday, off course and out of control. He pulled back on the steering, eased off on the thrusters, cut the fuel supply to the big engines, and watched the ground rise up to meet him in a rush of sand and reflected light.

He struck the ground in a bone-wrenching skid that severed both control cables, the big engines flying off in two directions while the Pod careened first left, then right, and then began to roll. Anakin could only brace himself inside, spinning and twisting in a roil of sand and heat, praying that he didn't wind up against an outcropping of rock. Metal shrieked in protest and dust filled the Pod's interior. Somewhere off to his right, an engine exploded in a ground-shaking roar. Anakin's arms were stretched out to either side, keeping him squarely placed through the pummeling the Pod experienced as it continued to roll and then roll some more.

Finally, it stopped, tilted wildly to one side. Anakin waited a moment, then loosened his restraining belt and crawled out. The heat of the desert rose to meet him, and the blinding sunlight bore down through his goggles. Overhead, the last of the Podracers streaked away into the blue horizon, engines whining and booming. Silence followed, deep and profound.

Anakin glanced left and right at what remained of his engines, taking in the damage, assessing the work they would need to operate again. He looked finally at his Pod and grimaced. Watto would not be happy.

But then Watto seldom was.

Anakin Skywalker sat down with his back against the ruined Pod, gaining what small relief he could from its shadow in the glare of Tatooine's twin suns. A landspeeder would be along in a few minutes to pick him up. Watto would be there to chew him out. His mother would be there to give him a hug and take him home. He wasn't satisfied with how things had turned out, but he wasn't discouraged either. He could have won the race if Sebulba had played fair. He could have won easily.

He sighed and tipped back his helmet.

One day soon he would win a lot of races. Maybe even next year, when he reached the age of ten.



Two Jedi escape a hostile blockade to find allies and come across a young boy who may bring balance to the Force, but the long-dormant Sith resurface to claim their former glory.

Release Date: May 19, 1999
Release Time: 134 minutes

Director: George Lucas

Cast:
Liam Neeson as Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn
Jake Lloyd as Anakin "Ani" Skywalker
Natalie Portman as Queen PadmΓ© Amidala
Ewan McGregor as Jedi Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi
Ahmed Best as Jar Jar Bink
Pernilla August as Shmi Skywalker
Ian McDiarmid as Senator Palpatine/Darth Sidious
Anthony Daniels as C-3PO
Kenny Baker as R2-D2
Frank Oz as Jedi Master Yoda
Oliver Ford Davies as Sio Bibble
Hugh Quarshie as Captain Quarsh Panaka
Samuel L. Jackson as Jedi Master Mace Windu
Ray Park as Darth Maul
Peter Serafinowicz(voice) as Darth Maul
Terence Stamp as Finis Valorum
Keira Knightley as SabΓ©
Silas Carson as
     Nute Gunray, the viceroy of the Trade Federation
     Jedi Master Ki-Adi-Mundi
     Lott Dod, a Trade Federation Senator
     Antidar Williams, co-pilot of the Radiant VII
Jerome St. John Blake as
     Rune Haako, Gunray's chief lieutenant
     Jedi Master Oppo Rancisis
     Orn Free Taa, a Twi-lek senator
     Mas Amedda, a Chagrian politician and Vice Chair of the galactic senate
James Taylor(voice) as Rune Haako
Ralph Brown plays Ric Olie
Brian Blessed(voice) as Boss Nass
Andy Secombe(voice) as Watto
Lewis MacLeod(voice) as Sebulba
Greg Proops and Scott Capurro(voice) as Fode and Beed, the two-headed announcer of the Boonta Eve Race
Scott Schumann(voice) as Jabba the Hutt

Awards:
72nd Academy Awards - March 26, 2000
Best Sound Effects Editing - Ben Burtt, Tom Bellfort - Nominated
Best Visual Effects - Dennis Muren, John Knoll, Rob Coleman, Scott Squires - Nominated
Best Sound - Gary Rydstrom, John Midgley, Shawn Murphy, Tom Johnson - Nominated

53rd BAFTAs - April 9, 2000
Best Visual Effects - John Knoll, Dennis Muren, Scott Squires, Rob Coleman - Nominated
Best Sound - Ben Burtt, Tom Bellfort, John Midgley, Gary Rydstrom, Tom Johnson, Shawn Murphy - Nominated

42nd Grammys - February 23, 2000
Best Instrumental Composition Written for Motion Picture or Television - John Williams - Nominated












Terry Brooks

Terry Brooks is the New York Times bestselling author of more than twenty-five books, including the Genesis of Shannara novels Armageddon's Children and The Elves of Cintra; The Sword of Shannara; the Voyage of the Jerle Shannara trilogy: Ilse Witch, Antrax, and Morgawr; the High Druid of Shannara trilogy: Jarka Ruus, Tanequil, and Straken; the nonfiction book Sometimes the Magic Works: Lessons from a Writing Life; and the novel based upon the screenplay and story by George Lucas, Star Wars(R): Episode I The Phantom Menace.(tm) His novels Running with the Demon and A Knight of the Word were selected by the Rocky Mountain News as two of the best science fiction/fantasy novels of the twentieth century. The author was a practicing attorney for many years but now writes full-time. He lives with his wife, Judine, in the Pacific Northwest.


Terry Brooks
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Alexander Adams(Narrator)



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Friday, September 20, 2024

πŸ“˜πŸŽ₯Friday's Film AdaptationπŸŽ₯πŸ“˜: The Wedding Veil by Kristy Woodson Harvey



**Blogger Note: There were two different books listed as "based on" for Wedding Veil.  This book was listed in 3 articles and There Goes the Bride: Wedding Veil Wishes Book 1 by Lori Wilde is listed in 2.  Since The Wedding Veil by Kristy Woodson Harvey has more mentions and the description is closer to the films I chose to focus this adaptation post on Harvey's book. If anyone knows for certain which it is please comment and let me know.**


Summary:

This “masterfully woven…literary home run” (New York Journal of Books) follows four women across generations, bound by a beautiful wedding veil and a connection to the famous Vanderbilt family from the New York Times bestselling author of the Peachtree Bluff series.

Four women. One family heirloom. A secret connection that will change their lives—and history as they know it.

Present Day: Julia Baxter’s wedding veil, bequeathed to her great-grandmother by a mysterious woman on a train in the 1930s, has passed through generations of her family as a symbol of a happy marriage. But on the morning of her wedding day, something tells her that even the veil’s good luck isn’t enough to make her marriage last forever. Overwhelmed, she escapes to the Virgin Islands to clear her head.

Meanwhile, her grandmother, Babs, is also feeling shaken. Still grieving the death of her beloved husband, she decides to move into a retirement community. Though she hopes it’s a new beginning, she does not expect to run into an old flame, dredging up the same complicated emotions she felt a lifetime ago.

1914: Socialite Edith Vanderbilt is struggling to manage the luxurious Biltmore Estate after the death of her cherished husband. With 250 rooms to oversee and an entire village dependent on her family to stay afloat, Edith is determined to uphold the Vanderbilt legacy—and prepare her free-spirited daughter Cornelia to inherit it—despite her family’s deteriorating financial situation. But Cornelia has dreams of her own, and as she explores more of the rapidly changing world around her, she’s torn between upholding tradition and pursuing the exciting future that lies beyond Biltmore’s gilded gates.

In the vein of Therese Anne Fowler’s A Well-Behaved Woman and Jennifer Robson’s The Gown, The Wedding Veil is “a sparkling, fast-paced joy of a book that celebrates love, family, and the right to shape one’s own destiny” (Kristin Harmel, New York Times bestselling author).



PROLOGUE Magic June 5, 1879
Six-year-old Edith Dresser’s skates moved heavily, as if she were rolling through sand, across the patterned wool rug in her mother Susan’s bedroom. She lived for moments like this, when she had her vivacious, beautiful mother all to herself while her three sisters continued their skating downstairs in the dining room. Usually, her mother’s lady’s maid would have helped Susan get ready for the party she was attending this evening, but she wasn’t feeling well. So instead, Edith stood—her skates making her taller—admiring the rows of frocks for every occasion in her mother’s closet.

“Do you think the pink for tonight, darling?” Susan asked. Edith tried to focus on her mother, but her child’s eyes wandered to the back corner of the narrow closet. “I love pink, Mama,” Edith said as she clomped ungracefully to a garment she knew well. With a tentative finger, she traced the lace on the edge of her favorite piece, the one she and her sisters loved to try on most: her mother’s wedding veil.

Susan turned and smiled, watching her daughter study one of her most prized possessions. In a burst of energy, she moved behind Edith, swept the long veil off its hanger, and motioned for Edith to follow her. In the light and opulence of her bedroom, Susan placed the cherished Juliet cap on her small daughter’s head, gently touching the rows of pearls at the bottom. She smiled.

“Just look at you, my girl,” Susan said as she arranged the lace-edged tulle around her daughter’s shoulders, the contrast great against her gray wool dress. Edith stood as still as one of the statues in the yard, holding her breath so she couldn’t possibly damage the veil.

Staring into the mirror, Edith felt transformed. It was still her reflection looking back at her, in her usual outfit with her favorite roller skates. But, somehow, she was completely different.

Susan bent down until her eyes locked with her daughter’s in the mirror. “One day,” she said, “when you are quite grown up and find a man you love very much, you will wear this veil just like I did when I married Daddy.”

Edith watched her own eyes go wide, imagining. Then she scrunched her nose. “But I want to stay with you, Mama.” Edith knew that, in other houses like hers, little girls were supposed to be seen and not heard. They weren’t allowed to roller skate inside and certainly weren’t permitted to play dress-up in their mother’s elegant clothes. Why would Edith ever want to leave a mother who let her keep a dozen pet turtles in the yard?

Susan laughed, moving in front of her daughter to adjust the veil again. She wrapped her in a hug and said, “No, Edi. You are going to find a wonderful man and be the most beautiful bride. Daddy will be there to walk you down the aisle, your sisters will stand beside you as your bridesmaids, and I will sniffle into my handkerchief and wipe my eyes because I will be so proud and happy.”

Edith was confused. “If you’re happy, why would you cry?”

“Because that’s what mothers do at their daughters’ weddings.”

Edith studied her mother, trying to think if she had ever seen her cry from happiness. She couldn’t remember a time, but, then again, Mama had a whole life that didn’t involve Edith, many hours that she would never see. And she figured that Mama liked living with Daddy, along with Edith and her sisters Susan, Pauline, and Natalie. So perhaps Edith would come to like having a family of her own as well. But she had conditions. Thinking of her favorite storybook, Cinderella, she said, “If I’m going to get married, I think I’d like to be a princess.”

Susan laughed delightedly. “Yes, yes. You, most certainly, will be a princess. You will live in a castle with many acres to roam to stretch your legs and plenty of fresh air to fill your lungs. You will have your own lady’s maid and a nursery full of lovely children. You will find a husband who will love you more than the stars, who will give you the earth and everything on it.”

This gave Edith a wonderful idea. “Can I marry Daddy, Mama?”

Susan smiled indulgently. “Well, I’m married to Daddy. But you will find a man just like Daddy, who is kind and handsome and loves you very much. And he will take care of you like Daddy takes care of me.”

Edith nodded. Becoming a bride suddenly seemed very, very important. She looked back at herself in the mirror, at how beautiful the veil was and, when she was wearing it, how beautiful she became. “Is this a magic wedding veil, Mama?” Edith asked.

Susan nodded enthusiastically. “Why yes, darling,” she whispered. “You have discovered the secret. Once you wear it on your wedding day, you will be happy forever.”

Edith, looking at herself one last time, wondered if she should share this life-changing news with her sisters. But no. That would ruin it somehow. She had a secret with her beloved mother, one to call her very own: The wedding veil was magic. And once she wore it, the fairy-tale life her mother had promised would be hers.


The first installment of a new trilogy follows three longtime college friends who discover a mysterious, antique veil fabled to unite its bearer with her true love. After discovering a long-lost painting, museum curator Avery and new board member Peter investigate the artwork's origins as they plan a gala to unveil it.

Release Date: January 8, 2022
Release Time: 84 minutes

Director: Terry Ingram

Cast:
Lacey Chabert as Avery
Kevin McGarry as Peter
Autumn Reeser as Emma
Alison Sweeney as Tracy
Fiona Vroom as Lucy
Zachary Gulka as Jason
Catherine Lough Haggquist as Sonya
Karen Kruper as Grace
Christine Willes as Hilda
Greg Rogers as Frederick
Kwesi Ameyaw as Drew
David Kaye as Jeff
Thomas Darya as Ryan
Emily Maddison as Nina
Aiyanna Miorin as Young Girl
Linda Minard as Board Member #1
Stephen Adekolu as Work Man
Amira Anderson as Concierge - San Francisco
Natalie von Rotsburg as Minister





Kristy Woodson Harvey
Kristy Woodson Harvey is the New York Times, USA Today and Publisher’s Weekly bestselling author of eleven novels including The Summer of Songbirds and The Peachtree Bluff Series. Many of her books have been optioned or are in development for television and film and have received numerous accolades, including Good Morning America’s Buzz Pick, Southern Living’s Most Anticipated Reads, Katie Couric’s Featured Books, and Joanna Garcia Swisher’s The Happy Place Read. Kristy is the winner of the Lucy Bramlette Patterson Award for Excellence in Creative Writing and a finalist for the Southern Book Prize. 

A Phi Beta Kappa, summa cum laude graduate of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill’s school of journalism, her writing has appeared in numerous publications, including Southern Living, Parade, Traditional Home, USA TODAY, and many more. She also holds a master’s in English, with a concentration in multicultural and transnational literature. 

Kristy is the cocreator and cohost of the weekly web show and podcast Friends & Fiction with fellow New York Times Bestselling authors Mary Kay Andrews, Kristin Harmel, and Patti Callahan Henry. She is also the co-founder of the interiors site Design Chic, with her mom, Beth Woodson. 

She lives on the North Carolina coast with her husband, son, and dog, Salt, where she is (always!) working on her next novel.


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EMAIL: kristy@kristywoodsonharvey.com



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