On Sunday night, two friends and I attended a performance of Complexions, a contemporary ballet company formed by two Ailey alums. Of the three pieces we saw that night, Head Space, Hissy Fits, and Innervisions I honestly couldn’t pick a favorite. They were all spectacular. What’s interesting about this company is that it’s not homogenous. The dancers (you can tell by the company’s name) are of various ethnicities, which, as they dance together, is lovely in itself. But more than that, the dancers, though all lean and muscular, have very different body types. This made synchronous movements varying by degrees, different angles on the torso, longer arms, more muscular thigh. And this for me, was the best thing about every piece.

I’m used to seeing ballets from companies where you can’t tell one dancer from the next. And I suppose that has its place. But I think that kind of ballet and company are as old as the thinking that shapes it–that people must be “of a kind.” You see where this kind of thinking leads us. And in a world where borders can be crossed so easily, and people from everywhere are mixing with everyone, and let’s face it, no one can really say they are purebred anything anymore, it’s time to embrace the diversity and the differences. Not just the skin differences, but all of them. ALL.

Who can argue with images like this?

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On Sunday night, two friends and I attended a performance of Complexions, a contemporary ballet company formed by two Ailey alums. Of the three pieces we saw that night, Head Space, Hissy Fits, and Innervisions I honestly couldn’t pick a favorite. They were all spectacular. What’s interesting about this company is that it’s not homogenous. The dancers (you can tell by the company’s name) are of various ethnicities, which, as they dance together, is lovely in itself. But more than that, the dancers, though all lean and muscular, have very different body types. This made synchronous movements varying by degrees, different angles on the torso, longer arms, more muscular thigh. And this for me, was the best thing about every piece.

I’m used to seeing ballets from companies where you can’t tell one dancer from the next. And I suppose that has its place. But I think that kind of ballet and company are as old as the thinking that shapes it–that people must be “of a kind.” You see where this kind of thinking leads us. And in a world where borders can be crossed so easily, and people from everywhere are mixing with everyone, and let’s face it, no one can really say they are purebred anything anymore, it’s time to embrace the diversity and the differences. Not just the skin differences, but all of them. ALL.

Who can argue with images like this?

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Dear Mr. Hudson,

Your recent article about the fate of the character Winston in the Ghostbusters movie, just broke my heart. There is probably nothing more gnawing than dashed hopes and unrealized potential. I think you’re right. The ex-military guy would have been a bigger role to play, and would have been really interesting–an added dimension for the millions of Ghostbuster fans of color like me. We don’t see enough of ourselves in popular culture, and when we do, it’s often in over-used tropes, or in reduced roles. This was hard for you. It’s hard for us, too.

But, Mr. Hudson, I loved Winston. You did him justice. Probably because at the time, you and that new character they wrote for you had a lot in common. You were the guy who just needed the job. You were looking for a break, and you were willing to do whatever you needed to do to get it. As I read your article, I was surprised at how well I remembered the scene where you show up looking for work. The line where you say you’ll believe anything if there’s a steady paycheck in it is funny because it’s true. How many people have worked jobs that they didn’t love to put food on the table? Probably all of us at one time or another. I’m not sure why that resonated with me as a kid. Maybe I had seen that look before in the grownups around me.

Even though this was not the role you had hoped for, it was meaningful to a lot of people. I recently walked into a Lego store with my son and walked out with my own Ecto-1. (Which I have not built yet. It’s been two months. Maybe I’ll get to it by Christmas.) That movie remains one of my favorites in no small part because of Winston and you, Mr. Hudson.

Thanks for that.

And here’s hoping you still get that role that you deserve.

Your fan,

Tracey

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Dear Mr. Hudson,

Your recent article about the fate of the character Winston in the Ghostbusters movie, just broke my heart. There is probably nothing more gnawing than dashed hopes and unrealized potential. I think you’re right. The ex-military guy would have been a bigger role to play, and would have been really interesting–an added dimension for the millions of Ghostbuster fans of color like me. We don’t see enough of ourselves in popular culture, and when we do, it’s often in over-used tropes, or in reduced roles. This was hard for you. It’s hard for us, too.

But, Mr. Hudson, I loved Winston. You did him justice. Probably because at the time, you and that new character they wrote for you had a lot in common. You were the guy who just needed the job. You were looking for a break, and you were willing to do whatever you needed to do to get it. As I read your article, I was surprised at how well I remembered the scene where you show up looking for work. The line where you say you’ll believe anything if there’s a steady paycheck in it is funny because it’s true. How many people have worked jobs that they didn’t love to put food on the table? Probably all of us at one time or another. I’m not sure why that resonated with me as a kid. Maybe I had seen that look before in the grownups around me.

Even though this was not the role you had hoped for, it was meaningful to a lot of people. I recently walked into a Lego store with my son and walked out with my own Ecto-1. (Which I have not built yet. It’s been two months. Maybe I’ll get to it by Christmas.) That movie remains one of my favorites in no small part because of Winston and you, Mr. Hudson.

Thanks for that.

And here’s hoping you still get that role that you deserve.

Your fan,

Tracey

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A few weeks ago, a friend and I saw the independent film Through a Lens Darkly: Black Photographers and the Emergence of a People. It was about African American photographers, and more importantly, the images of black Americans that have been left out of the “family photo album” as the film’s narrator put it.

The film was a real education for me, showing images of African American families, working, middle class, even wealthy families, happily existing, just being another color on the American landscape, juxtaposed with the ones I think we all know: dirt-poor African American families and some that were staged (according to the narrator) of people stealing, and then of course, the lynching photographs which were sold as postcards and mailed around the country.

It happened that at the same time, I was just starting work on a Civil War book so images of Union soldiers in particular had a heightened impression on me. When Union soldiers are pictured in history books, they’re not often the former slaves who joined the fight, though even Lincoln admitted that it was the black troops who turned the tide of war in favor of the North.

Since then, I’ve been finding lots of images of African Americans in history that paint a very different picture from what I–and indeed all of us–have seen. I realized that the dearth of portraiture was like being erased from history. It’s painful. Britain’s Autograph ABP has an exhibit currently of photographs of black Britons from the 1800s which is illuminating. Years ago, there was a Smithsonian exhibit by Deborah Willis about black photographers. One of the inspirations for her exhibit, was a book called The Sweet Flypaper of Life. A narrative by Langston Hughes, accompanied by images of African American families looking exactly like every other American family, just with different color skin.

A few days ago, some people in my husband’s office said that he didn’t “act black.” It was supposed to be a compliment. I also came across this phrase recently in Misty Copeland’s biography. It’s funny how the people saying these things don’t realize that it’s racist. As if well-educated, well-spoken, classy African-descended people are some kind of anomaly. (Just so you all know, those are the only kind of black people that I know personally, and obviously just from family, I know a lot.) But it’s not imagery many people are familiar with. My recent post for CBC diversity covers some of the dangers of this.

Then my mother visited some family last weekend and came back with a few tales from our family history, including the revelation that somewhere back up the family tree was a white plantation owner, and possibly an Amerindian person (indigenous peoples from the Caribbean). My mother added that my father (who identifies as Indian descent) is also mixed, with some of his ancestry coming from Syria.

So I have this family–from everywhere, it seems–and I’d like to get them all into the family album. I wonder what I, as a writer and editor, can do about that.

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A few weeks ago, a friend and I saw the independent film Through a Lens Darkly: Black Photographers and the Emergence of a People. It was about African American photographers, and more importantly, the images of black Americans that have been left out of the “family photo album” as the film’s narrator put it.

The film was a real education for me, showing images of African American families, working, middle class, even wealthy families, happily existing, just being another color on the American landscape, juxtaposed with the ones I think we all know: dirt-poor African American families and some that were staged (according to the narrator) of people stealing, and then of course, the lynching photographs which were sold as postcards and mailed around the country.

It happened that at the same time, I was just starting work on a Civil War book so images of Union soldiers in particular had a heightened impression on me. When Union soldiers are pictured in history books, they’re not often the former slaves who joined the fight, though even Lincoln admitted that it was the black troops who turned the tide of war in favor of the North.

Since then, I’ve been finding lots of images of African Americans in history that paint a very different picture from what I–and indeed all of us–have seen. I realized that the dearth of portraiture was like being erased from history. It’s painful. Britain’s Autograph ABP has an exhibit currently of photographs of black Britons from the 1800s which is illuminating. Years ago, there was a Smithsonian exhibit by Deborah Willis about black photographers. One of the inspirations for her exhibit, was a book called The Sweet Flypaper of Life. A narrative by Langston Hughes, accompanied by images of African American families looking exactly like every other American family, just with different color skin.

A few days ago, some people in my husband’s office said that he didn’t “act black.” It was supposed to be a compliment. I also came across this phrase recently in Misty Copeland’s biography. It’s funny how the people saying these things don’t realize that it’s racist. As if well-educated, well-spoken, classy African-descended people are some kind of anomaly. (Just so you all know, those are the only kind of black people that I know personally, and obviously just from family, I know a lot.) But it’s not imagery many people are familiar with. My recent post for CBC diversity covers some of the dangers of this.

Then my mother visited some family last weekend and came back with a few tales from our family history, including the revelation that somewhere back up the family tree was a white plantation owner, and possibly an Amerindian person (indigenous peoples from the Caribbean). My mother added that my father (who identifies as Indian descent) is also mixed, with some of his ancestry coming from Syria.

So I have this family–from everywhere, it seems–and I’d like to get them all into the family album. I wonder what I, as a writer and editor, can do about that.

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A few weeks ago I was having a conversation with a fellow Algonquin YR author about how we hate (read: are jealous of) writers who post their daily word counts online with numbers in the tens of thousands, and how they are surely lying liars who lie. Of course. They’re writers. They’re used to making stuff up. Then we commiserated on our own slow-going works in progress, suffering while we’re pulled from writing by everything else (work, kids, laundry…you know, the ushe).

Not long after that conversation, I discovered that a lot of writers I knew were taking time off for writing retreats. They all came back refreshed, singing the praises of the experience and how much they got done. Well I need to get things done. I have half a novel throwing me shade. So this weekend, I’m doing my first writing retreat. Three days in the woods where they claim there will be cell reception and internet access, but I kind of hope not.

I’m nervous. Being away from my family is never pleasant. Plus what if I don’t get anything done? Or the only thing I catch up on is sleep? Or the mosquitoes tap my arteries?

I guess I’ll see when I get there. I’ve already started thinking about what I should take to feel comfy (below). In the meantime, have any of you gone to a writing retreat? What was your experience?

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A few weeks ago I was having a conversation with a fellow Algonquin YR author about how we hate (read: are jealous of) writers who post their daily word counts online with numbers in the tens of thousands, and how they are surely lying liars who lie. Of course. They’re writers. They’re used to making stuff up. Then we commiserated on our own slow-going works in progress, suffering while we’re pulled from writing by everything else (work, kids, laundry…you know, the ushe).

Not long after that conversation, I discovered that a lot of writers I knew were taking time off for writing retreats. They all came back refreshed, singing the praises of the experience and how much they got done. Well I need to get things done. I have half a novel throwing me shade. So this weekend, I’m doing my first writing retreat. Three days in the woods where they claim there will be cell reception and internet access, but I kind of hope not.

I’m nervous. Being away from my family is never pleasant. Plus what if I don’t get anything done? Or the only thing I catch up on is sleep? Or the mosquitoes tap my arteries?

I guess I’ll see when I get there. I’ve already started thinking about what I should take to feel comfy (below). In the meantime, have any of you gone to a writing retreat? What was your experience?

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Most of my book-loving friends have a fantasy in common: they all wish they could get paid to read for pleasure. Reading for pleasure has never been a problem in my house, but my kids have been inclined to do a lot of watching tv since they’ve been home for the summer, so I decided to pay them to read AND to write. Here’s the deal. They get a dollar for every chapter book they read that they’ve never read before, and they get paid a dollar for every piece of writing they complete to my satisfaction. The plan is to get them to write  a couple of good essays, letters, arguments, critiques, and  proposals by September. I didn’t put any specifications on what they could read.

It’s cheaper than camp, keeps them occupied, and they like being able to make deposits in their bank accounts. Not to mention they get paid to do something they like (reading) and paid as compensation for something they don’t particularly like (nonfiction writing). And when they’re done working, I take them to the pool.

Nice work if you can get it.

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Most of my book-loving friends have a fantasy in common: they all wish they could get paid to read for pleasure. Reading for pleasure has never been a problem in my house, but my kids have been inclined to do a lot of watching tv since they’ve been home for the summer, so I decided to pay them to read AND to write. Here’s the deal. They get a dollar for every chapter book they read that they’ve never read before, and they get paid a dollar for every piece of writing they complete to my satisfaction. The plan is to get them to write  a couple of good essays, letters, arguments, critiques, and  proposals by September. I didn’t put any specifications on what they could read.

It’s cheaper than camp, keeps them occupied, and they like being able to make deposits in their bank accounts. Not to mention they get paid to do something they like (reading) and paid as compensation for something they don’t particularly like (nonfiction writing). And when they’re done working, I take them to the pool.

Nice work if you can get it.

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Tearing Down Walls: The Integrated World of Swedish Picture Books.

I was so heartened to see this post from Lee and Low today. The most important takeaway… “when children read books featuring racially integrated groups of peers doing fun things together, it has a lasting positive impact on their play with members of other races.” Let’s all take a page from the Swedes.

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Tearing Down Walls: The Integrated World of Swedish Picture Books.

I was so heartened to see this post from Lee and Low today. The most important takeaway… “when children read books featuring racially integrated groups of peers doing fun things together, it has a lasting positive impact on their play with members of other races.” Let’s all take a page from the Swedes.

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After my first ever visit to BEA  last week, I picked up the kids and announced that I had a lot of books for them. Cue applause. No really, there was actual applause. As soon as we got home, my daughter spread out all the books on the living room floor, counted them up, and announced, “You only got 16!” That was around 3:15pm. By 10pm when I called lights out, she had already finished two novels. NOVELS. And in between, she had to do homework, violin practice, have dinner, and shower. So she’s a reader. My son…well, he’s getting there.

So when my daughter asked to borrow my copy of The Fault In Our Stars, you’d think I just handed it over without a second thought. Nope. She’s 11, and I think that’s just not appropriate for her. “But some of my friends in class are reading it.” Still nope. And then I wondered if I was like one of those hey let’s ban all the books! kinds of parents, and if this is how it starts–by deciding that it’s not appropriate for my kid, and therefore not appropriate for any of them. I suggested she read the signed copy of Seeing Red that I procured from Kathy Erskine just for her. (Kathy even sent stickers.) The poor kid just looked disappointed, which is when I relented, but with one caveat. “If you read anything that you don’t understand and want to talk about it, you let me know,” I said. Her eyes went wide, but she walked away looking very pleased with herself.

The jury is still out on this one. I mean if she came and asked me to read Lolita, would I let her? Clearly I’m a wuss when it comes to my kids and books, so yeah, probably. Besides, I think that some of that stuff is going to go right over her head. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.

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After my first ever visit to BEA  last week, I picked up the kids and announced that I had a lot of books for them. Cue applause. No really, there was actual applause. As soon as we got home, my daughter spread out all the books on the living room floor, counted them up, and announced, “You only got 16!” That was around 3:15pm. By 10pm when I called lights out, she had already finished two novels. NOVELS. And in between, she had to do homework, violin practice, have dinner, and shower. So she’s a reader. My son…well, he’s getting there.

So when my daughter asked to borrow my copy of The Fault In Our Stars, you’d think I just handed it over without a second thought. Nope. She’s 11, and I think that’s just not appropriate for her. “But some of my friends in class are reading it.” Still nope. And then I wondered if I was like one of those hey let’s ban all the books! kinds of parents, and if this is how it starts–by deciding that it’s not appropriate for my kid, and therefore not appropriate for any of them. I suggested she read the signed copy of Seeing Red that I procured from Kathy Erskine just for her. (Kathy even sent stickers.) The poor kid just looked disappointed, which is when I relented, but with one caveat. “If you read anything that you don’t understand and want to talk about it, you let me know,” I said. Her eyes went wide, but she walked away looking very pleased with herself.

The jury is still out on this one. I mean if she came and asked me to read Lolita, would I let her? Clearly I’m a wuss when it comes to my kids and books, so yeah, probably. Besides, I think that some of that stuff is going to go right over her head. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.

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Some are obvious, but most will cost you nothing. Enjoy.

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Some are obvious, but most will cost you nothing. Enjoy.

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I have been challenged by my writer buddy Jayne Martin to write a story using only 25 words that hints at a larger story. Well, I’m smack dab in the middle of drafting a new middle grade novel, and thought about how that might look in just 25-words. Here it is.

The metal girl lies in the junkyard. Dented. Broken. Alone. A family drives by, singing. Surely, she can build love like theirs. A pipe glints.

 

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I have been challenged by my writer buddy Jayne Martin to write a story using only 25 words that hints at a larger story. Well, I’m smack dab in the middle of drafting a new middle grade novel, and thought about how that might look in just 25-words. Here it is.

The metal girl lies in the junkyard. Dented. Broken. Alone. A family drives by, singing. Surely, she can build love like theirs. A pipe glints.

 

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So let’s just start with the elephant in the room. Hachette started to accuse Amazon of shenanigans, delaying deliver of its books to readers. Then Publisher’s Weekly wondered if the agency model could survive, or whether publishers will have to go back to individual negotiations. Mike Shatzkin weighed in with his always-thoughtful commentary, reminding us that both Amazon and B&N are publishers’ largest distributors, and Amazon itself has not been making that much from the deal. Then Amazon doubled down, straight up refusing orders for even J.K. Rowling’s upcoming book and some book pages have disappeared entirely. At least one author, Nina Laden, is up in arms, lashing out at Amazon on her Facebook page, and from the looks of my own Facebook page, there is mutiny afoot by others in the writing community. And over at Salon, Laura Miller wonders why can’t publishers quit Amazon too? How will it all play out? Stay tuned.

The 500lb gorilla in the room across from the elephant is Rush Limbaugh’s nomination by the Children’s Choice Award as author of the year. To say people went ballistic is to put it mildly. There was this takedown in Kirkus, with descriptions like “God-awful. I mean really, breathtakingly, laughably terrible,” which is quite different from a review in Booklist before all the kerfuffle was stirred up. (Though the review does begin: “There are a lot of things wrong with Rush Revere and the Brave Pilgrims.”) The main dustup was over the fact that Limbuagh bought several thousand of his own books to drive up sales, which he then gave away, and one of the criteria that the CCA used to name him author of the year, were book sales. So Emma Dryden responded with her own thoughts on whether there is true value for the reader in book awards. Which then reminded me of this Chad Prevost post about how prestige might be getting in our way. Needless to say, I’m pretty sure the award will be taking a long hard look at their rules for next year.

Meanwhile, in other non-Earth-shattering news:

Rainbow Rowell answers some hostile questions (hey did you know her upcoming novel is adult fiction?)

The media thinks John Green is the savior of children’s publishing, and this librarian and this children’s book author and university professor smacks them down for so, so much wrong in their coverage, not the least of which is billing another straight white male as kid lit Jesus.

Andrea Davis Pinkney delivers an address at University of Minnesota Children’s Literature Research Collections, in which she quotes Frederick Douglas, sings snippets of Wade in the Water and We Shall Overcome, and performs as different characters in her life and in black history, and imagines a world where May Hill Arbuthnot (for whom the lecture is named) and Zora Neale Hurston may have been friends, or Emmet Till and Travon Martin may have attended college together. She ends in a blue hoodie. Chilling. Brilliant. I hear there’s going to be a recording soon. I hope so.

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Writers are asked about how they work all the time. Probably because writing’s such a struggle for all of us, we look wherever we can to learn better ways to get things done, to motivate ourselves, and produce better stories. Every time I’m asked that question, I answer differently, because every time I start a new project, I have a new process.

My debut, Angel’s Grace was written longhand in a black marble notebook on my commute to and from the city. Once I had enough of it written down, I switched to my laptop.

While writing Losing Faith (still unpublished, and probably always will be) I rewrote the entire manuscript from scratch after I had completed several revisions. Actually, I was forced into this method after I lost all of the files. I recovered from the horror of it all by remembering that Gabriel Garcia Marquez once lost his notebooks for a story and had to rewrite it, and when he found the original notes, the stories were pretty much the same.

My new middle grade, The Jumbies, is inspired by a Haitian folktale and went through several plot versions, none with any method, outline, or specific plan. Almost every time I restarted with a new plotline, I did so without looking at previous versions. I just kept starting over until one of them stuck.

Every picture book plot I’ve written has come into my head fully-formed, then I spend months or years fiddling with the language. As yet, none of these have been published either, but I have high hopes for the last two. In both of those cases, I made dummy outlines so that I can see how the book lays out, and concentrate on the all-important page turn.

True to form, my new story (still untitled) has it’s own process. I’m outlining it on a long sheet of craft paper. I had specific plot points (hi/low points) that I wanted to hit, and I wrote chunks of notes to correspond to each one. Over the last few weeks, I’ve gone back in to doodle and add snippets of ideas. My daughter read the outline and gave me a drawing of the opening scene as my mother’s day gift. She also wrote me a note with an offer of help.

This time, I really feel I’m on to something. Not just because I love how the story is coming together, or that my 11 year old thinks it’s great, but because I’m a visual thinker, and I don’t know why I haven’t tried this before. So maybe this is my process. Of course if history is any indication, the next time it’ll be something else again.

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I hope everyone’s recovered from their mother’s day festivities, whether they were good, bad, or otherwise. Mother’s day is, I think, a minefield at times for a zillion different reasons. So if you’re still basking in the glow of your day, yay you! If not, this roundup’ll get it off your mind.

At the end of the week, Harlequin was bought by HarperCollins/NewsCorp. More mergers may rightfully give authors the shivers, but it was the media coverage of this merger that gave this writer the hives. Hilarious!

Mystery Writers of America announced this year’s Edgar award winners.

Did you know that in some places Amazon delivers on Sunday? I discovered this last weekend when an overnight bag I bought (after taking a trip to Florida over spring break with woefully insufficient luggage) was on my porch after we got home from church. Whaaa? Evidently this started last November. News to me!

Also news to me is the fact that South Carolina politicians are taking funding from universities that teach books by LGBTQ authors. What. The. H?

In better news, Jerry Pinkney was recently awarded the Toast to the Children Literacy Award for his vast contributions to kid lit.

In case you missed it last week, Neil Gaiman is going to be doing a reading/show at Carnegie Hall. If that isn’t literary hotness, I don’t know what is.

If you’re feeling discouraged about your work, this blog post by Kate Messner is sure to help. Her remedy: write more. She has good reasons why.

This Tedx talk on story as a superpower energized me last week when I was emotionally drained working on a new story. What you do is important, folks. Believe it.

Another thing that was tremendously helpful was Lee Harper’s Facebook post last week about a picture book story he’d been working on for years. I have been struggling with two PB manuscripts and it’s always helpful to know that the words–even for those successful in this genre–don’t just flip off the page in perfect order. (I don’t have a link for that post, but check out his website at the link above. The wooly mammoth, folks. SO MAMMOTHY!!!)

That’s all I’ve got. Have a great week!

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The #WeNeedDiverseBooks campaign launched last week and got rousing support on Twitter and Facebook, and the conversation continues. All the talk is good, but it’s important to actually go out and support diverse books with your hard-earned cash.

If you’re interested in buying from indie booksellers. This link will help you find the ones near you. However, wherever you buy these books it’s going to be a good thing.

And so you know what to buy, here’s a list of books by or about African/Afro-Caribbean/African-Americans that were published in 2013. Some books are reissues. I think it’s all correct. If you notice any issues, please let me know and I’ll update the list.

Enjoy.

Title	Author	Illustrator
Sasquatch in the Paint	Abdul-Jabbar, Kareem
Harriet Tubman and the Underground Railroad	Adler, David
He Said, She Said	Alexander, Kwame
The Laura Line	Allen, Crystal
Splash, Anna Hibiscus!	Atinuke	Lauren Tobias
The Market Bowl	Averbeck, Jim
Hold Fast	Balliett, Blue
Jump Shot	Barber, Tiki and Ronde
Knock Knock: My Dad’s Dream for Me	Beaty, Daniel	Bryan Collier
Revenge of a Not-So-Pretty Girl	Blythe, Carolita
12 Days of New York	Bolden, Tonya	Gilbert Ford
Emancipation Proclamation	Bolden, Tonya
Echo	Brewster, Alicia Wright
My Cold Plum Lemon Pie Bluesy Mood	Brown, Tameka Fryer	Shane W. Evans
Can’t Scare Me	Bryan, Ashley
A Splash of Red: the life of Horace Pippin	Bryant, Jen	Melissa Sweet
The Cart that Carried Martin	Bunting, Eve	Don Tate
Serafina’s Promise	Burg, Ann
What Was Your Dream, Dr. King?	Carson, Mary Kay
Ignite: All About Myths: African Myths and Legends	Chambers, Catherine
Etched in Clay	Cheng, Andrea
Max and the Tag-along Moon	Cooper, Floyd
Parched	Crowder, Melanie
Off to Market	Dale, Elizabeth	Erika Pal
Don’t Spill the Milk!	Davies, Stephen	Christopher Corr
A Marked Man	Doeden, Matt
Panic	Draper, Sharon
Go, Jade, Go	Dungy, Tony and Lauren	Vanessa Brantley-Newton
The Missing Cupcake Mystery	Dungy, Tony and Lauren	Vanessa Brantley-Newton
Africa is My Home: A child of the Amistad	Edinger, Monica	Robert Byrd
Dog Days.	English, Karen	Laura Freeman
Nikki & Deja: Substitute Trouble	English, Karen	Laura Freeman
Life is Beautiful!	Eulate, Ana	Nivola Uya
A Song for Bijou	Farrar, Josh
I See the Promised Land	Flowers, Arthur	Manu Chitrakar
The Price of Freedom	Fradin, Judith Bloom and Dennis Brindell Fradin	Eric Velasquez
Community Soup	Fullerton, Alma
A Good Trade	Fullerton, Alma	Karen Patkau
Words with Wings	Grimes, Nikki
Schuman, Michael A.	Halle Berry
The Girl Who Heard Colors.	Harris, Marie	Vanessa Brantley-Newton
When the Beat Was Born: DJ Kool Herc and the Creation of Hip Hop	Hill, Laban Carrick	Theodore Taylor III
The Magic Bojabi Tree	Hofmeyr, Dianne	Piet Grobler
Lullaby (For a Black Mother).	Hughes, Langston	Sean Qualls
Vengeance Bound	Ireland, Justina
The Summer Prince	Johnson, Alaya Dawn
Lottie Paris and the Best Place	Johnson, Angela	Scott Fischer
Flowers in the Sky	Joseph, Lynn
The Campaign	Karre, Elizabeth
Trouper	Kearney, Meg	E. B. Lewis
Mountains Beyond Mountains: The Quest for Dr. Paul Farmer, A Man Who would cure the world	Kidder, Tracy
My Daddy, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.	King III, Martin Luther	AG Ford
Louisa May’s Battle	Krull, Kathleen	Carlyn Beccia
Charm and Strange	Kuehn, Stephanie
You Choose: The Harlem Renaissance	Lassieur, Allison
We Shall Overcome: The Story of a Song	Levy, Debbie	Vannessa Brantley-Newton
March: Book One	Lewis, John and Andrew Aydin	Nate Powell
Cline-Ransome, Lesa	Light in the Darkness: A Story About How Slaves Learned in Secret	James E. Ransome
Hope’s Gift	Lyons, Kelly Starling	Don Tate
The Pirate’s Coin: A Sixty-Eight Rooms Adventure	Malone, Marianne
Farmer Will Allen and the Growing Table	Martin, Jacqueline Briggs	Eric-Shabazz
The Mystery of Meerkat Hill	McCall Smith, Alexander	Iain McIntosh
Lulu and the Cat in the Bag	McKay, Hilary
Lulu and the Dog from the Sea	McKay, Hilary
Jesse Owens	McKissack, Patricia and Fredrick
Ol’ Clip-Clop.	McKissack, Patricia C	Eric Velasquez
Double Victory: How African American Women Broke Race and Gender Barriers to Help Win World War II	Mullenbach, Cheryl
Kuku and Mwewe: A Swahili Folktale	Munte Vidal, Marta
The Cruisers: Oh, Snap!	Myers, Walter Dean
Darius & Twig	Myers, Walter Dean
Invasion	Myers, Walter Dean
A Great Idea Engineering: The Pyramids of Giza	Nardo, Don
Mythology and Culture Worldwide: Egyptian Mythology	Nardo, Don
Nelson Mandela	Nelson, Kadir
I am Harriet Tubman	Norwich, Grace	Ute Simon
Mister and Lady Day: Billie Holiday and the Dog Who Loved Her	Novesky, Amy	Vanessa Brantley Newton
Primates: The Fearless Science of Jane Goodall, Dian Fossey, and Birute Galdikas	Ottaviani, Jim and Maris Wicks
Spy Boy, Cheyenne, and 96 Crayons	Owen, Rob
Out of Nowhere	Padian, Maria
Martin & Mahalia: His Words, Her Song	Pinkney, Andrea Davis	Brian Pinkney
Peace Warriors	Pinkney, Andrea Davis
The Tortoise & the Hare	Pinkney, Jerry
A Girl Called Problem	Quirk, Katie
Sugar	Rhodes, Jewell Parker
The Cucuy Stole My Cascarones	Rivas, Spelile	Valeria Cervantes
Jackie Robinson: American Hero.	Robinson, Sharon
Hey, Charleston!	Rockwell, Anne	Colin Bootman
The Other Side of Free	Russell, Krista
Dork Diaries: Tales from a Not-so-Happy Heartbreaker	Russell, Rachel Renee
Dork Diaries: OMG! All About Me Diary!	Russell, Rachel Renee
Prince Fielder	Savage, Jeff
Anna Carries Water	Senior, Olive	Laura James
Malcolm Little: The Boy Who Grew up to Become Malcolm X	Shabazz, Ilyasah	A.G. Ford
Anubis Speaks!	Shecter, Vicky Alvear
Something to Prove	Skead, Robert	Floyd Cooper
I am the World	Smith, Charles R
Brick by Brick	Smith, Charles R	Floyd Cooper
Daddy, My Favorite Guy: Papá Mi Compañero Favorito	Smith, Icy and Crystal Smith	Octavio Oliva
Nobody Asked the Pea	Stewig, John Warren	Cornelius Van Wright
Courage Has No Color	Stone, Tanya Lee
Father Groppi	Stotts, Stuart
Golden Boy	Sullivan, Tara
Kenya’s Song	Trice, Linda	Pamela Johnson
As Fast as Words Could Fly	Tuck, Pamela N	Eric Velasquez
Desmond and the Very mean Word	Tutu, Archbishop Desmond and Douglas Carlton Abrams	A.G. Ford
Next	Waltman, Kevin
The Milk of Birds	Whitman, Sylvia
P.S. Be Eleven	Williams-Garcia, Rita
JFK	Winter, Jonah	AG Ford
You Never Heard of Willie Mays?!	Winter, Jonah	Terry Widener
This is the Rope: A Story From the Great Migration	Woodson, Jacqueline	James Ransome
The Granddaughter Necklace	Wyeth, Sharon Dennis	Bagram Ibatoulline
Between U and Me	Zendaya

 

 

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Rossandra White, author of Loveyoubye asked me to participate in a blog hop with her, where I was featured last week. Here’s all about Rossandra, a super cool lady, and writer friend…

A fourth generation South African, Rossandra White is a blogger and author of two YA novels, Monkey’s Wedding and Mine Dances, which are set in Zimbabwe and Zambia. A recipient of many writing awards, White has been published in Writer’s Digest and Interstice, among others. From computer operator to letter carrier, executive secretary to ceramic artist, White has found her passion living in Laguna Beach with her two Staffordshire Bull Terriers, Fergie and Jake, where she writes and blogs about the wild old days of her childhood in Africa as well as the wild new days of her life here in the states. When she’s not writing, she enjoys yoga, Jazzercise, and hiking the hills behind her home in Laguna canyon. You can find her here:  http://rossandrawhite.com/

 

 

Now here’s the Q&A part of the hop…

1) What am I working on?

I’m pretty fortunate that the publisher of my upcoming middle grade novel is interested in seeing a new book from me, so I’m working on another middle grade novel. Like the one they are publishing, it has fantasy elements, but this time it is an entirely original story, not inspired by a folktale. In this story (still untitled) a trio of siblings wish on a star and have their wishes fulfilled by unusual means. As yet, I have no idea how this story ends. Which may be a very bad thing.

2) How does my work differ from others of this genre?

There are not many women being published in the area of fantasy, and fewer minority women. (I am 1/2 African descent and 1/2 Indian descent.) My upcoming novel takes readers to the Caribbean and introduces some interesting fantasy creatures that American readers would be unfamiliar with, such as douen–baby spirits with backwards feet who try to steal children, or the soucouyant–a vampire-like old woman who sheds her skin and flies through the air in a ball of flame to find victims so that she can suck out their blood.

My current story does not have Caribbean flavor, but I have injected some of my biracial upbringing into it, which is also a bit unusual for current kid lit.

3) Why do I write what I do?

Since I was three and lost myself in a book of Grimm’s fairy tales, I’ve wanted to be a writer. The fairy tales probably also informed the kind of quirky fantasies that I have been writing lately as well. However my debut young adult novel, Angel’s Grace, was realistic fiction. I was inspired to write that kind of fiction for that particular age group after reading Rosa Guy’s The Friends. I read it soon after I moved to New York from Trinidad, and it spoke directly to me especially since the main character was also a recent Caribbean immigrant. I’ve been told that I write realistic stories well, but I seem to be drawn to stories where strange things happen. Come on. Weird stuff is awesome.

4) How does your writing process work?

I probably shouldn’t say this but I am fueled by fear. Fear stops me from working because I don’t know if I’m good enough. Fear gets my butt to the chair and sets my fingers writing when I think it’s time to show fear who’s boss. Fear makes me go over and over things that I am not sure about, much to the annoyance of my family and friends who are often subjected to sub-par drafts. I wish I could say that I did have a process, or a regimen, but the truth is, I write when I’m terrified, and I write when I’m terrified because I’m not terrified. So yeah. I work in a constant state of panic. But here’s the thing. I work.

Well, enough about me. Here are the two lovely ladies who have signed up to blog hop with me! (Yes, I know there’s supposed to be three, but there was a bit of a problem with #3.)

First up is one of my favorite writers, and National Book Award winner Kathy Erskine, who never fails to deliver an awesome story. If you haven’t read Seeing Red yet, do.

Kathryn Erskine grew up mostly overseas and attended eight different schools which gives an interesting twist to her writing.  She draws on her life stories and world events to write her novels including Quaking, an ALA Top Ten Quick Pick for Reluctant Readers, Mockingbird, 2010 National Book Award winner, The Absolute Value of Mike, a Crystal Kite winner, and Seeing Red, a Jane Addams Peace Award Honor Book set immediately after the Civil Rights era that questions who we were then and who we are now.

Her upcoming novel, The Badger Knight, is a Middle Ages adventure about a small, sickly teen with albinism who runs off to battle to prove he’s a man — which he succeeds in doing, but not in the way he thought. She is currently working on several more novels and picture books.

She loves travel, taking walks, being in nature, exploring places (any places), laughing, playing games, learning languages (or anything, really, just learning) and eating chocolate.  You can learn more about her at http://www.kathrynerskine.com/Kathryn_Erskine/Home.html

or on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/kathy.erskine

and Twitter at http://twitter.com/KathyErskine

Next up is Jenni Green Miller, whose blog has inspired me to write honestly every time, even when I blog. (She even got me to write poetry. Publicly!)

Jenni is a playwright, actress, and professional speaker living in the Pacific Northwest.
She is a recipient of a Regional Arts and Culture Council Individual Artists Grant for her play, An Island, and is a member of the Dramatist Guild. Currently she is working on a play based on Susan Brownmiller’s book, Against Our Will: Men, Women, and Rape.  She studied theater and composition with Anne Bogart at SITI Company in NYC, and has toured professionally with Brainwaves, an improvisational creative problem solving organization, as a group facilitator for corporate team building. During the day she is a brand marketing and social media specialist, copywriter and storyteller, advocating for various non-profit organizations and their programs throughout the Pacific Northwest. At night she does the dishes, reads books with her kids, and then does more dishes. In between, she puts words on paper, trying to make sense of it all. And to learn.

You can find Jenni here: http://jennigreenmiller.wordpress.com

Please visit Kathy and Jenni’s blogs next week (may 5th) when they will each tell us about three more bloggers we should know. Have a great week everyone!

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