Zetta Elliott's Blog, page 36

fangirl

I love my friends. At times, I gush about my friends because they’re brilliant and creative and inspiring. But I am not a “fan” of my friends, and when a librarian comes up to me to express her appreciation for my books, I don’t think of her as a “fangirl.” To me, fans are not in their right mind—they’re fanatics! Their enthusiasm and excitement overwhelm their ability to think critically, and THAT can be a real problem when your job is to objectively evaluate and acquire books. It’s also a problem when “fangirling” intersects with gender—as in, male authors are treated differently than female authors in a field (like librarianship) that is dominated by women. Add race to that mix and we’ve got a serious problem—for women of color, at least. Compared to a Black man who can rap and recite love poetry, there’s not much I can do for a room full of White women (besides pointing out all the disparities that negatively impact the kids in my community). I tried to raise this point and others during my dialogue with Debbie Reese at the 2016 ACL Institute in San Francisco last week (you can watch the video here), and then we went out to dinner and continued the conversation with Kwame Alexander, his friend and guitarist Randy, and Laura Atkins. The one-day conference was amazing—I’ve really lucked out lately, because the last library conference I attended (LACUNY) was also excellent. ACL President and Institute Chair Meredith Steiner introduced me as a “force of nature,” and I definitely hoped to “trouble the water” but I also felt very welcome and safe—and grateful for the opportunity to share my point of view. California is so different from New York and the more time I spend out west, the more I feel at home there. Having my friends nodding in the front row helps, of course, but I met so many amazing librarians who were open-minded, and earnest, and honest about the challenges they face in meeting the needs of their diverse patrons. It was especially gratifying to connect with at least two librarians who serve teens in detention, and the female librarian (an admirer but not a fangirl) pressed Kwame Alexander about the urgent need for a paperback edition of The Crossover since hardcover books aren’t allowed in detention centers. Talking onstage with Debbie Reese was wonderful because we’re often in dialogue but rarely get to sit face to face. My breakout sessions were well attended and I ran out of tissues because participants really opened their hearts as we wrote about loved ones who are far away. Several participants already had great ideas for collaborative, community-based writing projects so hopefully we’ll see some books emerge over time. On Wednesday I got to catch up with my crew of radical creatives at the beautiful Yerba Buena Gardens; it was sunny (I got a sunburn!) but also breezy and cool, and so we ordered tea and chai and a range of tasty treats at Samovar. I think the last time I saw these folks was in October but we just picked up where we’d left off and shared the various projects we’re working on…and schemed a bit about the future. The next day I was treated like a queen by Library Coordinator Becca Todd and the staff and students at Thousand Oaks and Le Conte schools in Berkeley. The kids were quieter than NYC students but just as engaged, and afterward they were clamoring for my books. My talk at ACL was about the marginalization of self-published authors, so it meant a lot to arrive at the two Berkeley schools and see so many of my Rosetta Press titles already in the library. I brought 50 books to the institute and Luan of Laurel Book Store sold all but 6! I don’t know if that will persuade her to stock Rosetta Press titles in the store, but there are lots of self-published authors in the Bay Area and they seem to be included in most book events. On the east coast, that’s true of events run by Black folks, but indie authors are still excluded from most “mainstream” literary events. Hopefully one day soon that will change…

ACL 2016 Institute: “Mirrors, Margins, and Misinformation”

pause

Sometimes you have to hit pause even when you wish you could just fast forward. Today a friend and I met for high tea at 4pm because we’ve both had a really good year so far and yet we hadn’t taken time to celebrate our achievements. When I asked her why she replied, “No one has time to celebrate with me.” I have time! I always have time for scones and clotted cream and cheese & pickle finger sandwiches. We didn’t get the champagne service but we did clink tea cups before savoring just about EVERYTHING on our three-tier tray. We talked about our plans for the summer and the challenge of creating space to just be still—not on the road, not overbooked. As we near the end of the school year, I can feel myself running out of steam. Despite the 80-degree weather, I’ve come down with a cold and worried my voice would give out during my back-to-back writing workshops this morning. The classes were larger than expected and so I also ran out of handouts, but my host was super cool and the kids were engaged…I don’t do many writing workshops for young kids and I wasn’t sure my activities would work since they were designed for older writers, but at one point there were four boys sprawled on the classroom floor working on their mystery stories and I decided that must be okay. I didn’t feel in control, the lesson wasn’t as structured as I hoped, but the kids were engaged and—simply put—adorable. One girl named Amethyst kept saying, “I can’t believe you’re actually here!” and another child visiting from a second grade classroom said that I was her role model. A boy said his dream job was to be a poet! They didn’t have finished stories by the time I left, but hopefully our activities will help them down the road. And maybe it’s enough that they just had fun. I picked up some chicken soup on the way home and took a quick nap before heading back out. I left my building then remembered I hadn’t checked my mailbox so I went back in and a check I’ve been waiting on for 2 months was there along with a bundle of letters from 5th graders I met back in March. I tucked the check away in my bag and thanked the universe for sending me enough gigs to make the long delay annoying but not a financial crisis. Then I sat on the train grinning and laughing out loud at the wonderful drawings and messages from the kids at PS 261. This was one of my favorites:

I haven’t written much in the past week but maybe this cold will put me back in an introspective mood. Next week I head to San Francisco for the ACL institute, a day of school visits in Berkeley, and a mini rad women retreat. Then I think things will start to slow down a bit. I’ve taken a summer gig but still hope to finish three novels by the end of August. And if it doesn’t happen as planned, it’ll be okay. Right?

gimme a beat

I’ve been hearing that verse in my head lately—perhaps because Janet Jackson just celebrated her 50th birthday and announced that she’s expecting her first child. It also has to do with my irritation around the “most favored” voices, which these days seems to be men of color who can rap. I had the opportunity to see Eclipsed on Wednesday and it was an amazing experience. Lupita wasn’t available but her understudy was fantastic and even before we got to the theater, I was having a good time. I met Patrice years ago when I self-published A Wish After Midnight; she was one of the few teachers who read the book and invited me to speak to her students. When her school got tickets for all the female students to see Eclipsed, Patrice generously offered me an extra ticket. In the school cafeteria I met some of the other teachers along with a couple of Patrice’s friends and we immediately started talking about the trials of teaching, and bell hooks’ critique of #Lemonade, and how to teach girls to be their authentic selves. I was struck—as I often am—by the ease with which women can and often do connect. It doesn’t always happen but when it does, I find myself wondering if men ever bond that way (instantly, honestly). Part of me wished the male students had also been invited, but their absence made the experience richer. The play is about 5 women surviving the civil war that nearly destroyed Liberia. Four of the women are “wives” of a war lord who claimed them for himself, and together they form a household and a kind of family. We never forget that they are regularly raped—“jumped on”–by the C.O.; he never appears on stage, but we know he’s passing by when the women abruptly fall into line and wait to see who will be chosen. Each one returns moments later to ritually wipe between her legs using a cloth kept in a plastic basin in one corner of their shared home. They cook together, sleep side by side, share dreams, bicker and fight over the “spoils of war”—hair extensions and blood-stained clothes—and read the biography of Bill Clinton (a “big man” who also had more than one “wife”). To take back power, Wife #2 joins the army believing her gun will prevent any man from raping her again. The Girl, youngest and most recent addition to the family, follows #2 into war only to find herself rounding up other scared girls who will be handed over to soldiers who rape them with impunity. After witnessing (and believing she caused) the gang rape and death of a young girl who cursed her, The Girl tries to escape but is beaten into submission by #2. When the play ends, we aren’t sure of her fate—can she return to a “normal” life or will she return to the chaos of the killing fields?

I haven’t seen Hamilton and probably won’t unless someone miraculously offers me a free ticket. I admit, I get turned off when one person or text receives a disproportionate amount of attention because it means so many other people and texts aren’t receiving any attention at all. Eclipsed has 6 Tony nominations but the theater wasn’t full for that mid-week matinee, and I don’t see or hear the playwright (or director, or cast members—all Black women) on TV, magazine covers, or the radio every other day. Would people pay more attention if we rapped about rape? What was happening in the lives of Black women while Alexander Hamilton and George Washington were “founding” the nation? Pretty much the same thing that was happening in Liberia not that long ago—the same thing that’s been going on in the Congo for decades. Again and again I come back to that line from the CRC 1977 “Statement”: “the only people who care enough about us to work consistently for our liberation is us.”

Gimme a beat.

recognizing joy

As an introvert, I tend to avoid crowds whenever I can. But as an author, I’ve had to learn how to handle myself and manage my anxiety when participating in a book fair. Sometimes it’s straight up romper-room chaos—fluorescent lights in a gymnasium, screaming kids racing around, and a migraine by the end of the day. I don’t do many book fairs (I also don’t get that many invitations) but sometimes the experience is just amazing. I really enjoy the Brooklyn Museum’s children’s book fair and I LOVE the annual African American Children’s Book Fair at the Reginald F. Lewis Museum in Baltimore. As I sat in the quiet car last night heading back to NYC, I honestly couldn’t count all my blessings—I’d start a Facebook post and then go back and edit it to add the name of another person who lifted my spirits or presented me with an opportunity. I never went back to that sound meditation class I tried last month, but I do feel a difference in myself…it started last fall, I think, when I went to London and had such a wonderful trip. When I put it into words, my trip didn’t sound that impressive but the feeling I had while I was there was unmistakable: joy! And I felt that again yesterday at the book fair. There was the quiet before the storm (below) and then the crowd grew (above) and my laptop battery died so I couldn’t hide from the public by focusing on the screen. I met so many engaged parents who wanted to let their children choose their own book, I saw kids’ eyes grow wide with wonder as I described a story to them, and I had other author and illustrator friends all around me so I felt supported and NOT anxious and that meant I was able to enjoy myself. Sales were steady and I only brought ten books home, so that means I sold about 40 (my strategy is to bring fewer copies of more titles). I wrote the first chapter of Dragons in a Bag in the hotel the night before, and feasted on bbq with friends once the book fair was over. The sudden downpour stopped just as we left the museum and Shadra took me to an excellent cake spot so I could get a slice before heading home. I received two invitations to speak in NYC while I was away, and I hope to return to Baltimore for future collaborations with the museum and the Enoch Pratt Free Library. The 5th annual book fair will take place at the museum on May 8, 2017 so save the date!

#Lemonade for Girls: In Formation

When a home-schooling Black mother asked me for a #Lemonade syllabus for her girls, I immediately reached out to my peers and asked them to help me compile three age-appropriate lists for young readers. Our selections reflect some of the themes in Beyoncé’s visual album: self-love, African roots, spirituality, Louisiana, the history and culture(s) of the South, Black women’s activism, police brutality, and “Daddy Lessons.” If we’ve missed a title that would empower Black girls and teens, please leave your recommendation in the comments section. You can download a PDF: Lemonade for Girls.

Picture Books (age 0-7)

Asim, Jabari. Girl of Mine .
Atinuke, Anna Hibiscus .
Copeland, Misty. Firebird .
De Leon, Aya. Puffy: People Whose Hair Defies Gravity .
Elliott, Zetta. A Hand to Hold .
Greenfield, Eloise. Honey, I Love .
Hegamin, Tonya. Most Loved in All the World .
Pinkney, Andrea Davis. Let It Shine: Stories of Black Women Freedom Fighters.


Tarpley, Natasha Anastasia. I Love My Hair .
Weatherford, Carol Boston. Voice of Freedom: Fannie Lou Hamer: The Spirit of the Civil Rights Movement.
Watson, Renee. A Place Where Hurricanes Happen .

Middle Grade (age 8-12)


Allen, Crystal. The Laura Line.
Bolden, Tonya. Maritcha: A Nineteenth Century American Girl.
DePrince, Michaela and Elaine. Ballerina Dreams: From Orphan to Dancer .
Engle, Margarita. Drum Dream Girl: How One Girl’s Courage Changed Music.
Grimes, Nikki. Words with Wings.
Nelson, Marilyn. A Wreath for Emmett Till
Okorafor, Nnedi. Akata Witch .
Pinkney, Andrea Davis. Rhythm Ride: A Road Trips through the Motown Sound .
Rhodes, Jewell Parker. Ninth Ward .
Schatz, Kate. Illustrated by Miriam Klein Stahl. Rad American Women A-Z: Rebels, Trailblazers, and Revolutionaries Who Shaped Our History… And Our Future!
Taylor, Mildred T. Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry .
Whitley, Jeremy and M. Godwin. Princeless .
Williams-Garcia, Rita. One Crazy Summer.
Woodson, Jacqueline. Brown Girl Dreaming.


Young Adult (age 13+)


Adichie, Chimamanda Ngozi, Purple Hibiscus .
Angelou, Maya. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.


Davis, Kiri. A Girl Like Me . (short film)
Draper, Sharon. Copper Sun .
Edwards, Sue Bradford and Duchess Harris. Black Lives Matter .
Elliott, Zetta. A Wish After Midnight .
Getz, Trevor R. and Liz Clarke. Abina and the Important Men.
Gibney, Shannon. See No Color.
Hopkinson, Nalo. Brown Girl in the Ring .
Magoon, Kekla. How It Went Down.


Nelson, Marilyn. How I Discovered Poetry.
Rees, Dee. Pariah . (film)
Simpson, Karen. Act of Grace.
Woodson, Jacqueline. The House You Pass on the Way .



Reading List Contributors

EDITH CAMPBELL, M.L.S.

Reference/Instruction Librarian, Indiana State University

@Crazyquilts

SARAH PARK DAHLEN, PH.D.

Assistant Professor of Master of Library & Information Science Program, St. Catherine University

@readingspark

ZETTA ELLIOTT, PH.D.

Author/Educator

@zettaelliott

Thunderclap!

Greetings! I’m not too tech savvy but with the help of social media master Sofia Quintero, I’ve set up a campaign on Thunderclap to help promote my new novel. Here’s a description of what Thunderclap does:

It allows a single message to be mass-shared, flash mob-style, so it rises above the noise of your social networks. By boosting the signal at the same time, Thunderclap helps a single person create action and change like never before.

The campaign will only launch if I get 100 supporters in 13 days, so if you’re willing, please sign up here. You’ll be asked to select a platform (Twitter, Facebook, or Tumblr) and on May 20th, Thunderclap will send out one message—just one time—on your feed. You’re basically donating a tweet or post to me.

Thanks in advance!

15 manuscripts and counting…

Thanks to Beth Phelan and her #DVpit initiative, I’ve got a new agent! I’m happy to be represented by Jennifer Laughran of the Andrea Brown Literary Agency who impressed me with her honesty about the industry’s problems and its potential. Next week we’ll be developing a strategy for my many unpublished manuscripts (I’ve got 11 picture books stories and 4 novels in progress). Then there are the projects I haven’t started yet that keep tugging at my brain: Dragons in a Bag is about a Brooklyn witch who carries four miniature dragons in her purse (like I do!), and All I Have is a picture book story that might end up being a short poem. And I spent a whole day last week dreaming about my Black girl shieldmaiden/Viking from The Ring (I’ve even designed the cover of that book). I find that when I have a project to finish—this month it’s The Ghosts in the Castle—then I start coming up with new ideas as a way to procrastinate. I got 2000 words written on Tuesday but then found out that my uncle passed away in the Caribbean; yesterday morning I got up early for a school visit and found an email from my mother letting me know my aunt in British Columbia had passed away, too. I’m not able to be with my family as they grieve, but this morning I went for a run and then came home and threw out the gummies I’ve been snacking on all week. We’ve lost so many people this year and it’s made me think about my own mortality (and the contents of Prince’s vault). What would be left unfinished if I died tomorrow? Would I have any regrets? Have I said all that I need to say? I intend to continue self-publishing; even with an agent, I won’t be able to get all of my stories out into the world unless I publish some of them myself. Some are more urgent than others, and some won’t appeal to a mainstream press. It’s good to have options and self-publishing will always be there if doors continue to close (I’m cautiously optimistic but agents can only sell what editors are willing to buy). Tomorrow isn’t promised, so give the stories inside of you a chance to live in the world…

giveaways

Want to win a free copy of A Wish After Midnight or The Door at the Crossroads? Then stop by the El Space blog and enter Linda’s giveaway by May 5! While you’re there you can also read the interview we did. Here’s a glimpse:

El Space: In a recent Huffington Post article, you stated, “Self-publishing is, for me, an act of radical self care—and self-love.” Could you unpack that a little for us?

Zetta: Audre Lorde once wrote that self-care is political warfare because it is an act of resistance. When you live in a society that is committed to destroying and/or denigrating Black people—and Black women in particular—then choosing to be gentle with yourself means a lot. It means you reject all the messages you’re receiving about your worth. Self-love insists that you are worthy and deserving of care and kindness and compassion. Black women do a lot for others but we don’t always remember to make ourselves a priority. Then add publishing to the mix and you’ve got an industry dominated by white women that largely excludes Black women. When I self-publish, I’m pushing back against the implicit message that my work doesn’t matter to them. It matters to me and it matters to the members of my community, so I don’t need to look outside myself and my community for permission to tell my tales.

I’ve also set up a Crossroads giveaway on Goodreads but that won’t start until May 2 and winners will be announced on May 23.

I had 4 blank squares on my calendar this week but, of course, my days filled up and so now it’s Wednesday and I haven’t yet worked on The Ghosts in the Castle. I’ve got over 6K words written so there isn’t much more to write. Wish I could hop across the pond and finish the novel in London, but I really need to stay put for a while. Charity Russell, the illustrator who worked on Wave and Let the Faithful Come, used to live in Windsor so I’m hoping I can get her to do the b&w illustrations. But first I have to finish the book…

Dear Beth,

I don’t know Beth Phelan but she organized Monday’s #DVpit, which encouraged marginalized writers to pitch their completed manuscripts to participating agents and editors. I first thought about sending Beth a tweet to express my appreciation for this initiative, but then I thought about writing a longer letter because I have mixed feelings about my experience and wonder what her hopes and expectations were. Until a moment ago, I didn’t realize Beth was a woman of color; another woman of color, Hannah Gomez, called agents out a while back, asking them to solicit work from excluded writers instead of complaining about the lack of submissions. Could white women—who dominate the publishing industry—have come up with these ideas? Of course. But they didn’t (as far as I know). Many of them got on board and that’s encouraging, because we can’t expect different outcomes if industry professionals aren’t willing to change their ways. But when I heard about Hannah’s plan my first thought was, “Agents aren’t enough.” Because agents only take on clients who write material they KNOW they can sell. So if editors—and marketers and sales directors—aren’t on board, too, then what can a handful of well-intentioned agents really achieve?

I wasn’t planning to participate in #DVpit but then I started a new picture book story, “Milo’s Museum,” and figured I might as well share it with the Twittersphere. And that’s what really matters about #DVpit—it was PUBLIC. I pitched four of my twelve unpublished PB manuscripts, and everyone who follows me or that hashtag could see what I have to offer. Librarian Angie Manfredi boldly called out agents on my behalf:

Seven agents and one editor favorited my pitches and I followed up with all of them (incorrectly addressing one query, so no doubt that got deleted immediately; note to self—don’t send queries late at night). I heard from one enthusiastic agent immediately and we made tentative plans to talk in the near future. Some of these agencies are new to me but most of them are not. I’ve queried them more than once over the past decade so what will be different this time around?

This morning I woke up thinking about the role of the publisher. An editor friend explained recently how hard she has to fight for a story she loves, “selling” it to the acquisitions team plus sales and marketing. What if we radically altered the acquisitions process? What if an editor could go straight to her publisher and get a thumbs up or thumbs down—and then the sales and marketing team just had to make it work? What if we removed all the loopholes/excuses that lead to stories by PoC getting shot down? No one has ever told me I can’t write. No one has accused me of being a bad storyteller. It’s almost always been, “This isn’t right for our list” or “There’s no market for this.” Well, what if a publisher issued an executive order—like President Obama getting around a do-nothing Congress: “We’re publishing this book because I said so. It’s now ON our list, so FIND or DEVELOP a market for it.” Imagine how THAT would transform the publishing industry…

In the meantime, I’m grateful to Beth for coming up with such a unique alternative to the query process. I’m not holding my breath and I’m prepared to self-publish more of my stories, but it was refreshing to finally see signs of innovation in an industry that’s been stuck in the mud for too long…