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According to a study by the Cooperative Children’s Book Center at the University of Wisconsin, of the 3,200 children’s books published in 2013 in the US, just 93 were about black people. The UK fares little better by all accounts.

Leila Rasheed has blogged about the importance of non-issue based children’s books featuring children from ethnic backgrounds, and why she finds it hard to write about non-white characters.  http://leilarasheeddotcom.wordpress.com/2014/03/20/permission-to-write-my-experience-of-being-a-british-asian-reader-and-writer-of-childrens-books/

Tanya Byrne has written about this on the Guardian books blog where she calls for more books featuring children of colour. https://href.li/?http://www.theguardian.com/childrens-books-site/2014/mar/20/tanya-byrne-top-10-black-characters-in-childrens-books?CMP=twt_gu

The dearth of non-white characters was raised by Dean Myers, in his article: Where are the People of Colour in Children’s Books. http://www.nytimes.com/2014/03/16/opinion/sunday/where-are-the-people-of-color-in-childrens-books.html?_r=1

And then again by his son Christopher Myers in The Apartheid of Children. https://href.li/?http://www.nytimes.com/2014/03/16/opinion/sunday/the-apartheid-of-childrens-literature.html

There is now an increasing debate and demand for more diversity in children’s literature to reflect our increasingly multi-ethnic and multi cultural society.

Almost thirty years ago Verna Wilkins set up Tamarind Press in an attempt to redress the lack of books with children from non-white backgrounds being published in the children’s market. But ‘mainstream’ publishers have yet to catch up, and there is clearly still a huge lack of such books.

As a British Asian, who is 100% Indian in terms of heritage, but who is essentially more British than Indian, and as a big reader during my childhood, it was always a surprise when I found a book about a child who shared my skin colour. A nice surprise. Yes, often those kids were beset by problems such as racial abuse and stereotyping, but that wasn’t a problem for me because growing up in the UK at the time did in fact necessarily involve having to face those issues to a greater or lesser degree.

What bothers me now is the fact that, as all of the above authors have pointed out, there are still very few books that feature children of colour, whether or not they are issue-based or are 'normal' non-issue based stories .

Children are growing up in a society which is far more culturally mixed and diverse. But, for today's children, not much has changed from when I grew up, in terms of seeing and reading about a diverse range of children like themselves and their friends in literature.

That’s a problem.

I completely agree with Malorie when she talks about diversity of multi-cultural voices in children’s literature being of paramount importance, not least because it would promote awareness and understanding, and tolerance.

On a personal level, as a writer, I have written books featuring all white characters. People have often said that The Long Weekend could have been written by a white Anglo-Saxon. That’s fine. I find it quite amusing. It’s my fully Indian name on the spine. In another novel, Amnesia, the main character is an English boy, but his best friend is Indian and his girlfriend is half Italian. The book I have just completed is about an Asian girl and features predominately Asian characters of different backgrounds. I don’t feel that because I’m Asian I have to write about Asian characters all the time, or that I should feel obliged to.

What’s important in children’s literature is that a diversity of characters in terms of ethnicity and culture is depicted, and that their voices are heard, and that a child is no longer surprised when they find more than one book featuring someone of their ethnicity, culture or colour. Sadly, that’s not happening yet.

What better day for book trailers than a Saturday?

Meet author Leila Rasheed!

Rasheed’s most recent book, Diamonds and Deceit (At Somerton series) was released in January.

London is a whirl of balls and teas, alliances and rivalries. Rose has never felt more out of place. With the Season in full swing, she can’t help but still feel a servant dressed up in diamonds and silk. Then Rose meets Alexander Ross, a young Scottish duke. Rose has heard the rumors about Ross’s sordid past just like everyone else has. Yet he alone treats her as a friend. Rose knows better than to give her heart to an aristocrat with such a reputation, but it may be too late.

Ada should be happy. She is engaged to a handsome man who shares her political passions and has promised to support her education. So why does she feel hollow inside? Even if she hated Lord Fintan, she would have no choice but to go through with the marriage. Every day a new credit collector knocks on the door of their London flat, demanding payment for her cousin William’s expenditures. Her father’s heir seems determined to bring her family to ruin, and only a brilliant marriage can save Somerton Court and the Averleys’ reputation.

Meanwhile, at Somerton, Sebastian is out of his mind with worry for his former valet Oliver, who refuses to plead innocent to the murder charges against him–for a death caused by Sebastian himself. Sebastian will do whatever he can to help the boy he loves, but his indiscretion is dangerous fodder for a reporter with sharp eyes and dishonorable intentions.

The colorful cast of the At Somerton series returns in this enthralling sequel about class and fortune, trust and betrayal, love and revenge. (Amazon)

The gorgeous cover for this book was created by photgrapher Howard Huang. Part of his creative process has become creating Behind the Scenes videos. Take a look at Behind the Scenes: Diamonds and Deceit.

Cinders & Sapphires by Leila Rasheed.

Bookshelves of Doom described this one as The Luxe meets Downton Abbey. As both are things I adore, how could I say no?

It's 1910. After many years in India, the Averlys are back at Somerton, but whispers of the scandal that caused Lord Westlake his job have followed them. Ada is a beautiful and bookish, and longs to be allowed to attend Oxford, but must marry well to save the estate. On the boat back to England, a brief encounter with a super-hott Indian boy (on his way to Oxford) leaves her breathless. But, once back at Somerton, there's a new stepmother, a cruel stepsister, and Rose. Rose was a childhood friend, the daughter of the housekeeper. Lord Westlake as taken a keen interest in her and elevates her to Lady's Maid, but the servants don't like it and she gets advice from all the wrong corners. Fancy dresses! Scheming servants! A boy she loves that her father would never approve of vs. a good match with a good guy who will let her follow her dreams...

I wanted to like this more than I did. I needed more from Charlotte to make her more than just an evil step-sister. The narrative sometimes goes to other characters (mostly Rose and the stepbrother Sebastian) but mostly sticks to Ada. A little less Ada and more of the other characters (would *love* to get some of Ravi's point of view) would have rounded it out a little more. Ada and Ravi are super insta-love, which bugged me. I liked the relationship as it grew, but I wasn't entirely sure what attracted them to each other in the first place, especially given their very different stations. The foreshadowing and clues about the BIG SURPRISE at the end were also pretty heavy--something that would have worked better if the entire story were a little more fleshed out. I just wanted more. All that said, it was still a fun read. I liked many of the characters and want to know more, especially about the minor ones. It's definitely the first in a series, with some very ominous things left hanging, so be on the lookout for book 2.

ARC Provided by... the publisher, at ALA.

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I’ve decided to take a break for a while, not least because there’s a waiting list to join in this excellent blog. Thanks to everyone and au revoir! But I thought I'd make my last post a brief one about the future - the summer.

One of the hardest things about having writing as a main occupation, and moving between two different countries on a regular basis, is time management. I have to think about being one month in England, two months in Italy, two weeks in Belgium – and only one of those countries in my own home, and none of them where I have a separate and dedicated work room. It’s difficult to take a routine with me from country to country and house to house, so I think of my life as chunks of time and tasks to achieve within that time, tasks relevant to the country I’m in. So in Italy I have time to do lots of writing, but in England I have the opportunity to read new children’s books in the library, network with other writers, and do school visits and events, so I write less. I try to bring some order to my life by prioritising.

This summer I will be in Italy, so my priorities are:
Write, write, write!
My work in progress is set in a snow-bound Brussels – but I’ll be trying to imagine it in 25 degree heat in Italy. At some point I’ll also have to write the second draft of a Working Partners’ novel.
Mark, mark, mark…
Creative Writing MA portfolios can be done from home.
Proofread
Another bitty job that can be done online.
Learn Italian
I do know Italian pretty well… but I’d be so much better at it if I just learned a verb a day.
Teach English
To get a bit of income. I have a couple of friends who come for occasional lessons.
Get healthy
It shouldn’t be that hard, should it? Surrounded by fresh vegetables, hills to stride up and down, and sea to swim in. Fingers crossed I won’t just spend the entire summer stuck to the computer, drinking coffee and eating pizza.
And thanks to my Kindle, I can also…
Catch up on my reading!
I just wish there were more children’s books available for the Kindle.


What are your summer priorities? I'd love to know.

For a change, I thought I’d post a book review today. Stones For My Father, by Trilby Kent, is a historical children’s novel published in Canada by Tundra Books. Set during the Boer war, it’s the story of an Afrikaans girl, Corlie Roux, whose life is changed forever when her farm is burned by the British army and she has to escape into the bush. From the days hiding out with the laager, to her final imprisonment in a concentration camp, Corlie’s struggle to survive in the beautiful but harsh African landscape is richly and evocatively described. Animals, in particular, are so well-painted that they leap off the page. This is one of those books that leaves you feeling as if you have really been there.

“We continued in silence, stopping only to watch a goshawk slice between the treetops on its afternoon death-cruise. When we reached the river-bank, I tore off a thread from the hem of my dress and showed Gert how to tie it onto a fishhook. We gathered sticks for rods, and used bright protea leaves for bait. Then we slipped our dry-soled feet into the sparkling water and waited, trying to ignore our growling stomachs.”

Corlie’s mother – who hates her, for reasons that are revealed at the end of the book – is one of the adult characters who are so well-described that they seem to have physical weight in the mind.

“’Get out of here,’ she snapped. ‘Take your brother to Oom Flip’s. He owes us a box of tobacco.’ Despite her godly airs, my mother was a prodigious smoker. Pa had never approved of her pipe habit, but Pa wasn’t around anymore to tell her so. My mother’s face had turned quite red, the veins in her temples bulging where her hair had been scraped back into a severe bun. ‘Are you deaf, girl? Do you want me to get the sjambok?’”

There was a discussion recently about hope in children’s books on the Balaclava mailing list, and I thought this was an interesting book in relation to that discussion. Corlie’s life is tough and unredeemed by love. No-one comes out of this well, not the British who burn farms and herd children like Corlie into concentration camps to die, nor the Boers who consider Africa given to them by God and casually beat the African servants by whose knowledge and skills they have been kept alive in the bush. There is a sense of people made hard by their hard lives, and all – from soldiers to children - caught up in the chaotic whirlwind of war.

The most obvious source of hope is in the figure of Corporal Byrne, the Canadian soldier fighting on the British side, who finally gives Corlie a future. But I think there is another one, which pervades the whole book – the physicality of Africa itself; the animals, the vegetation, the la

Today’s blog post is not by a writer. It is by someone much more important: a reader.

The reader is a lady named Shamila Akhtar, who has started a petition to keep her local library - Pleck Library in Walsall - open. I quote from the Pleck residents’ group website: ‘Pleck is recognised as the most deprived area in the borough of Walsall.’ Walsall itself is in the West Midlands, my home region and one of the areas hardest hit by spending cuts. If a library is needed anywhere, surely it is needed here.

I am proud to introduce Shamila as a guest blogger:

- Leila Rasheed

WHAT MY LIBRARY MEANS TO ME
by Shamila Akhtar

Everyone's talking about why their library should stay open. It's such a turmoil of emotion, every single library is special to the people who use it. In Walsall, 6 of 16 libraries will close. It's awful - I feel like the small libraries are competing against each other to survive. Like we’re in a slaughter house and all jostling to stay at the back and not get picked. What a sad situation!! Every single library should be left alone.

What is it about that these buildings and the resources within that's turning people like me into campaigners? I'm a person who is not the politician, the local councillor or even the vicar who posed for our Press Event photo. I am a little shy, timid in approaching the writing elite to ask for their support. How will I come across? What will I say?

Perhaps I can share some of the magic moments the library creates, delivers, facilitates.

I have seen a father sitting there on a tiny chair reading to his boy, speaking not so well English but he was there and he was trying. His son gets his undivided attention, they get special time together.

I have turned the final page of a book we borrowed from there, to have a crocodile pop up. The boys want me to make him snap at their fingers, we protect the book so baby does not damage th

Hedgehog

The world is changing and so is my brain. When I was a teenager, I used to saturate myself in Dickens or Austen and go about narrating my life to myself in the voice of their novels. This evening I was struggling to light our apathetic fire and found myself narrating my life to myself in a Facebook status. Leila Rasheed Is: playing with fire. Language shrinkage. I’ve just finished the first draft of a novel, and I’m convinced that I’ve written it a hundred times more badly than I would have five or ten years ago. My brain has curled up like a hedgehog and no matter how much I poke it with sticks, it doesn’t want to move.
I think I can solve it. The first step is making space for a book, turning off the computer. Reading does for the brain what water does to those magic towels I coveted when I was a child; it causes it to expand and become far more interesting. There are microbes that lie around in a state of dehydration for years just waiting for the rain to bring them back to life. My brain can live again!
We need computers. We probably even need Facebook. But we need real books, too. This is why it is so sad that libraries are under threat. The internet scrunches language up small, it dehydrates it. Books, novels, well-written books of all kind, allow language to flourish. And language is thought.


Moiré

Spell checkers have their own happy logic. Sometimes when I am typing away, I’ll mis-hit a key, and the program will adjust what I typed to what it thinks I meant to type. So what I intended as more becomes moiré. Now I have never, to my knowledge, intentionally typed the word moiré until this blog post. How often does the average Microsoft user use the word moiré? How often does anyone use the word moiré? I imagine the computer, blind and deaf as it is, imagines itself used by an elegant lady with strings of pearls and a chignon (another word I have never to the best of my knowledge typed before). Such a lady would use the word moiré. Such a lady would have a less apathetic fire than mine, and a small dog to sit in front of it.

Log

Over in Italy, we buy firewood that fruit farmers have trimmed from their trees and we stack it outside to dry. It is proper wood, with knots and gnarls and bark and splinters. We also collect driftwood; big nubbly olive roots stripped of bark, bits of door, that kind of thing. When dried out this burns in witchy colours because of the salt. It usually leaves behind stubborn bits that won’t burn, and old nails and so forth.
Here in England we buy sacks of smokeless fuel shaped into perfect pebbles as light as pumice, and ‘Blaze’ logs, which are formed of sawdust into a regular cuboid with a perfect hole down the middle, packed neatly into plastic. They are the same brown all over. They burn entirely and leave vast amounts of fine, clean white ash.
On the one hand, a functional, Facebook sort of a language, perfectly cuboid, uniformly brown. On the other, a gnarly, splintery, waterlogged sort of a language that needs stacking in the head and leaving to dry for a while before it can burn, and burn, and burn.

Winter is coming, and the author is getting fat. Yes, indeed, I have seen the signs – ‘Book your Christmas meal now!’ in pubs across the land. This is the time to stick on Radio 4 and some warm socks, draw the curtains, and make the house smell of delicious cooking.

These are my warm socks (I wear them as I type this). They are Authorial Socks. They were knitted for me by my best mate, and the stripes are the barcodes for my first two novels. If they were not made of wool, you could scan them and they would beep. No doubt Salman Rushdie, Ian McEwan and others have just such socks, which they wear as they write their masterpieces. If they do not, I pity them.



And this is what I suggest for the cooking: a mouth-watering pamphlet of recipes created by author Rosy Thornton, a 'virtual friend' of mine from the Writewords site. All the recipes are taken from her new book The Tapestry of Love, which is set in the Cevennes region of France. She’s giving this pamphlet away as a kind of amuse-bouche for the novel, so do feel free to download it here:



If you get a taste for the book, it can be got from Amazon or the usual places, but there might be a couple of weeks delay because the paperback is just about to be released.
Enjoy!


http://www.rosythornton.com