Mitali Perkins's Blog, page 22
September 14, 2012
Reading is Fundamental's new Multicultural Book Collection focuses on Science, Math, and Technology
Reading is Fundamental's new Multicultural Book Collection focuses on Science, Math, and Technology
RIF Releases STEAM Multicultural Book Collection Connecting STEM, the Arts and Early Learning WASHINGTON, Sept. 12, 2012 /PRNewswire-USNewswire/ -- Reading Is Fundamental (RIF) is launching a multi-year early childhood literacy campaign to inspire the next-generation of innovators through an approach…
Come visit me on the Fire Escape!
September 12, 2012
2012 Teens Between Cultures Prose Contest Winner
I'm delighted to announce the winner of the 10th annual Mitali's Fire Escape Teens Between Cultures Prose Contest. In the past, I've award three prizes (first, second, third), but this year I decided to pick only one. Agonizingly, I narrowed the best entries to three and then asked my friend, author and teacher Cynthia Leitich Smith, to select the winner. Here it is—enjoy.
Chow Mein with a Chance of Meatballs
by Whitney S., Age 18
Growing up as the headstrong daughter of Chinese immigrants, I – surprisingly – didn’t question my parents’ strict emphasis on academic achievement. I didn’t fight back against the forced piano lessons, I didn’t begrudge the embargo on sleepovers, and I didn’t sulk (for long, anyway) when I brought home an A-studded report card and got only distracted nods in response. No, I accepted everything except the food.
I first realized my own gastronomical ignorance in elementary school, when my friends discussed their favorite restaurants and I could only name the two fast-food places I passed daily on my way to school. Before that, I had lived complacently under what I assumed were the unspoken, unquestioned rules of my household: No sodas, candies, or carb-based munchies could be found in the pantry. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner were served at prescribed times, with one afternoon snack of fruit and no nibbling allowed in between. Getting a hamburger from McDonalds was a twice-a-year treat for outstanding behavior (like winning a spelling bee) or consolation for a serious misfortune (like getting stitches when I cut my scalp open). And formal restaurants? I was lucky I knew what real, “Western” silverware looked like.
“Why don’t we ever eat out?” I demanded once, in a fit of indignation.
“Do you want to weigh 500 pounds? Americans put so much oil and flavorings in their cooking, it’s disgusting,” said my mother in dismissive Chinese. “And how much money we’d waste if we ate out every week, like American families do! Do you think we’re rich?”
My parents loosened up sometimes – if only to sample genuine Chinese restaurants where the owners and servers all spoke Chinese. They’d order standard mainland dishes, furrow their brows as they ate, and spend the rest of the night debating the authenticity of the food. For someone like me, with a sweet tooth and an adventurous appetite, it simply wasn’t enough.
I could pinpoint with 99% accuracy what we’d be having for dinner any given night, before even coming home from school. There was always the essential staple, rice. Then there was steamed or stir-fried bok choy (and if not bok choy, some other leafy green vegetable). Lastly, a meat dish, maybe mixed with more vegetables and maybe standing alone. On the rare occasions that we didn’t eat rice, we ate dumplings or noodles. And oh, how I hated fulfilling popular stereotypes – but we did all of the above with chopsticks.
My classmates complained about eating Brussels sprouts; they whined about not being able to have dessert before the entrée. My dreams (okay, perhaps my speculations when I got bored) were made of the stews, casseroles, lasagnas, pizzas, and steaks they ate at home. My peers gasped at the multisyllabic words I recited and rolled their eyes whenever I churned out another math problem at record speeds. How would they see me, though, if they knew that the great Whitney had no idea how to pay the check at a restaurant?
When my parents finally allowed me to carry pocket money around, I got sneaky. My middle school hosted a snack booth, and I felt a small high every time I purchased a forbidden pastry or soda. But it was immediately followed by an overwhelming cascade of guilt. I saw, in my mind’s eye, my mother lecturing me on how hard she worked to cook meals with minimal salt and oil, how much she despised “American” foods, which were inarguably fatty and unnatural. A part of me always hung her head in shame, promising never to venture down the road to sin again. The other part of me wanted to lash out against my parents. Was it really such a big deal if I deviated from their oh-so-precious customs here and there? I was a model child in every other department. Fortunately, I had never been bullied for my ethnicity; in my stubborn independence, I had rarely folded under the pressure to conform either. But this, the food – it was my way of saying Yes, I do want to be an American! I do want to share in a part, however trivial, of this society!
My parents started to relax their grip when I entered high school, most likely because they grew worried. “Stop studying so much, Whitney,” they told me. “You’re too stressed. Go out with your friends once in a while.” That, and once the trips I took with clubs dragged on past lunchtime, it became inevitable that my teammates and I would stumble into a restaurant. Learning basic skills like ordering from the menu and tipping etiquette were cheek-reddening experiences, mortifying both for me and my friends. I would explain awkwardly that my parents were traditional, that they – cue self-deprecating chuckle here – disapproved of American cooking, for some convoluted reason. I was lucky; most friends nodded and smiled and didn’t ask anything more. Their seeming acceptance soothed my insecurities, but not by much.
It was difficult for me, when I was younger, to justify my parents’ prejudices. How could they be so closed-minded? I thought angrily. Did they want our family to be outcasts? In my childish bravado, I would often proffer various favorites (“They’ll change their minds when they taste this spaghetti!”). As time passed and my parents kept turning away my offerings, though, I had to swallow the truth. They weren’t going to change. They were middle-aged immigrants; they had grown comfortable with their ways, which had endured the grueling transition to a different hemisphere.
But that doesn’t mean I have to remain a shut-in. My parents have begun to loosen their hold in this tug-of-war. I still keep a rigid diet at home, but I have been allowed to sample multicultural cuisines, even if it is always by myself and always out of necessity. My parents don’t understand it, but they are finally acknowledging it. For me, cultural immersion and exploration will always lie in the next order of macaroni and cheese.
Whitney on growing up between cultures:
The hardest thing about balancing two cultures is trying to fit in with other kids when you're young. Most kids now have been brought up to be tolerant and accepting of other cultures, but there are still those who are narrow-minded or just not ready to accept others who are different. I definitely felt a distance between me and other kids when I was young because of the different traditions I practiced at home.
The best thing about balancing two cultures is enjoying the added richness to your life when you're older. I can speak two languages, make authentic foods from different cuisines, enjoy two different styles of entertainment, and connect to people from two different ethnic backgrounds. Now that I can appreciate the depth that being both Chinese and American has brought me, multiculturalism has become a benefit rather than a burden.
Photo courtesy of Gary Soup via Creative Commons.Come visit me on the Fire Escape!
Chow Mein with a Chance of Meatballs
by Whitney S., Age 18
Growing up as the headstrong daughter of Chinese immigrants, I – surprisingly – didn’t question my parents’ strict emphasis on academic achievement. I didn’t fight back against the forced piano lessons, I didn’t begrudge the embargo on sleepovers, and I didn’t sulk (for long, anyway) when I brought home an A-studded report card and got only distracted nods in response. No, I accepted everything except the food.
I first realized my own gastronomical ignorance in elementary school, when my friends discussed their favorite restaurants and I could only name the two fast-food places I passed daily on my way to school. Before that, I had lived complacently under what I assumed were the unspoken, unquestioned rules of my household: No sodas, candies, or carb-based munchies could be found in the pantry. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner were served at prescribed times, with one afternoon snack of fruit and no nibbling allowed in between. Getting a hamburger from McDonalds was a twice-a-year treat for outstanding behavior (like winning a spelling bee) or consolation for a serious misfortune (like getting stitches when I cut my scalp open). And formal restaurants? I was lucky I knew what real, “Western” silverware looked like.
“Why don’t we ever eat out?” I demanded once, in a fit of indignation.
“Do you want to weigh 500 pounds? Americans put so much oil and flavorings in their cooking, it’s disgusting,” said my mother in dismissive Chinese. “And how much money we’d waste if we ate out every week, like American families do! Do you think we’re rich?”
My parents loosened up sometimes – if only to sample genuine Chinese restaurants where the owners and servers all spoke Chinese. They’d order standard mainland dishes, furrow their brows as they ate, and spend the rest of the night debating the authenticity of the food. For someone like me, with a sweet tooth and an adventurous appetite, it simply wasn’t enough.
I could pinpoint with 99% accuracy what we’d be having for dinner any given night, before even coming home from school. There was always the essential staple, rice. Then there was steamed or stir-fried bok choy (and if not bok choy, some other leafy green vegetable). Lastly, a meat dish, maybe mixed with more vegetables and maybe standing alone. On the rare occasions that we didn’t eat rice, we ate dumplings or noodles. And oh, how I hated fulfilling popular stereotypes – but we did all of the above with chopsticks.
My classmates complained about eating Brussels sprouts; they whined about not being able to have dessert before the entrée. My dreams (okay, perhaps my speculations when I got bored) were made of the stews, casseroles, lasagnas, pizzas, and steaks they ate at home. My peers gasped at the multisyllabic words I recited and rolled their eyes whenever I churned out another math problem at record speeds. How would they see me, though, if they knew that the great Whitney had no idea how to pay the check at a restaurant?
When my parents finally allowed me to carry pocket money around, I got sneaky. My middle school hosted a snack booth, and I felt a small high every time I purchased a forbidden pastry or soda. But it was immediately followed by an overwhelming cascade of guilt. I saw, in my mind’s eye, my mother lecturing me on how hard she worked to cook meals with minimal salt and oil, how much she despised “American” foods, which were inarguably fatty and unnatural. A part of me always hung her head in shame, promising never to venture down the road to sin again. The other part of me wanted to lash out against my parents. Was it really such a big deal if I deviated from their oh-so-precious customs here and there? I was a model child in every other department. Fortunately, I had never been bullied for my ethnicity; in my stubborn independence, I had rarely folded under the pressure to conform either. But this, the food – it was my way of saying Yes, I do want to be an American! I do want to share in a part, however trivial, of this society!
My parents started to relax their grip when I entered high school, most likely because they grew worried. “Stop studying so much, Whitney,” they told me. “You’re too stressed. Go out with your friends once in a while.” That, and once the trips I took with clubs dragged on past lunchtime, it became inevitable that my teammates and I would stumble into a restaurant. Learning basic skills like ordering from the menu and tipping etiquette were cheek-reddening experiences, mortifying both for me and my friends. I would explain awkwardly that my parents were traditional, that they – cue self-deprecating chuckle here – disapproved of American cooking, for some convoluted reason. I was lucky; most friends nodded and smiled and didn’t ask anything more. Their seeming acceptance soothed my insecurities, but not by much.
It was difficult for me, when I was younger, to justify my parents’ prejudices. How could they be so closed-minded? I thought angrily. Did they want our family to be outcasts? In my childish bravado, I would often proffer various favorites (“They’ll change their minds when they taste this spaghetti!”). As time passed and my parents kept turning away my offerings, though, I had to swallow the truth. They weren’t going to change. They were middle-aged immigrants; they had grown comfortable with their ways, which had endured the grueling transition to a different hemisphere.
But that doesn’t mean I have to remain a shut-in. My parents have begun to loosen their hold in this tug-of-war. I still keep a rigid diet at home, but I have been allowed to sample multicultural cuisines, even if it is always by myself and always out of necessity. My parents don’t understand it, but they are finally acknowledging it. For me, cultural immersion and exploration will always lie in the next order of macaroni and cheese.
Whitney on growing up between cultures:
The hardest thing about balancing two cultures is trying to fit in with other kids when you're young. Most kids now have been brought up to be tolerant and accepting of other cultures, but there are still those who are narrow-minded or just not ready to accept others who are different. I definitely felt a distance between me and other kids when I was young because of the different traditions I practiced at home.
The best thing about balancing two cultures is enjoying the added richness to your life when you're older. I can speak two languages, make authentic foods from different cuisines, enjoy two different styles of entertainment, and connect to people from two different ethnic backgrounds. Now that I can appreciate the depth that being both Chinese and American has brought me, multiculturalism has become a benefit rather than a burden.
Photo courtesy of Gary Soup via Creative Commons.Come visit me on the Fire Escape!
September 11, 2012
Andrew Karre on Editing in the "YA Boom" Era
Yesterday on Twitter , I shared a link to an article in the Guardian about a "new" trend in publishing — a genre of books labeled for "New Adults," a.k.a. readers aged 14-35. Andrew Karre , editorial director of Carolrhoda books , responded with a one-word tweet: "Preposterous." Intrigued, I invited him out to the Fire Escape to explain.
Could you tell us why you think setting up a "New Adult" label is nuts?
It’s nuts because I think it’s a backwards way to make art. Allow me to elaborate further after I answer your last question.
Why do you think the YA genre has boomed recently?
A number of factors have pushed the boom in the past decade. Bear in mind, this is driven more by anecdotal observation and hunch than anything else. I’d actually love to hear somebody who was closer to the action take on the question.
Demographics. I believe the teenage population of the US crested at an all-time high sometime around 2007. I have no idea where I saw that number, but I know I saw it.
My sense of the lasting legacy of Harry Potter is that the series made books and authors something that existed in real time for teens and pre-teens. In other words, kids knew when these books were coming without any intermediation; they wanted to share their experiences (and they could, globally); and they expected the author to be a public figure, preferably one they could interact with. Publishing doesn’t notice much, but we noticed this. I’ve spoken about this at length in Hunger Mountain.
It became possible to walk into a bookstore and buy a YA novel without walking through a section of picture books. I attribute this to B & N, but I don’t know for sure. I bet Joe Monti does. Libraries have wisely followed the trend, it seems to me. (Our own, recently built Minneapolis Central Library placed the teen center in a nook completely separate for most of the rest of the library and as far from children’s section as possible. It’s a perfect bit of design in my opinion.)
And I’m probably forgetting another factor.
How (if at all) has this boom affected your editorial style?
Insofar as the fact of the YA boom has allowed me to have the job I do, it’s affected my editorial style. If publishers hadn’t wanted to add YA lists over the last decade, I’d be doing something entirely different in all likelihood.
Beyond that, though, my style is more inward facing than it is outward looking. Adolescence as a cultural phenomenon is endlessly interesting to me. I see teenage stories everywhere—ask my wife. I firmly believe we--late modern humans--created the teenage years and that those years are one of a handful of roughly universal and largely public experiences humans have in western culture. And I think this makes it a very good subject for art (in much the same way war, parenthood, falling in love, and dying are great subjects for art). This is why I say I think YA is a genre about adolescence rather than a product category for adolescents. The first thing this frees me from is answering the unanswerable question: “What do teens want?” In fact, that teenagers read the majority of YA is kind of coincidental to my editorial style, to be honest. I love teenagers dearly, but I make books for readers, first and foremost. (I get away with it because most teenagers are as curious about themselves as I am about them.) In my utopia, there is no YA section, and authors don’t self-identify as YA novelists, but there are tons of YA novels. I don’t think this is the only approach to YA, the right approach to YA, or even the best. But it’s mine and I’m fond of it.*
So, what does this have to do with "New Adult"? My (admittedly meager) understanding of what’s meant by “new adult” is that it’s an audience description (I’ve seen 14-35, and that is preposterous)—something akin to a TV demographic. This is a great way to sell advertising (I guess), but I think it’s a s***** way to make art. For me, genres are campfires around which artists gather, not ways of understanding an audience for art or entertainment. I think there easily could be a bonfire to be built around the shifting definition of adulthood. I think that’s a real cultural phenomenon, but it needs to come from the writers not the marketers.
* One big caveat: I think it’s important to push myself into less comfortable places as an editor, so it’s not hard to find inconsistencies with this approach among the ostensibly YA books I’ve edited. No Crystal Stair, for example, doesn’t fit neatly into any of the foregoing. It’s just a great book that was a joy to publish.
Thanks, Andrew! As a writer, I resonated with this statement: "The first thing this frees me from is answering the unanswerable question: 'What do teens want?' ... I love teenagers dearly, but I make books for readers, first and foremost. ” Fellow writers, check out Carolrhoda's submission policy.
Come visit me on the Fire Escape!
September 5, 2012
2012 Teens Between Cultures Poetry Contest Winner
I'm delighted to announce the winner of the 10th annual Mitali's Fire Escape Teens Between Cultures Poetry Contest.
In the past
, I've award three prizes (first, second, third), but this year I decided to pick only one. This made judging the contest harder than ever. To compound the difficulty, I received more entries this year than ever before and many of those were stellar. Agonizingly, I narrowed the best to three and then asked my friend, brilliant poet Naomi Shihab Nye, to select the winning poem.
Naomi confirmed my opinion: in her words, Moon Cake by Cathy Guo is "lush and elegantly cadenced and heartbreaking," and deserved the win. With thanks to Naomi for helping me with this tough decision, please enjoy the 2012 Fire Escape Teens Between Cultures Poetry Contest winner.
Photo courtesy of jimmiehomeschool, via Creative Commons. Stay tuned for the prose contest winner!Come visit me on the Fire Escape!
Naomi confirmed my opinion: in her words, Moon Cake by Cathy Guo is "lush and elegantly cadenced and heartbreaking," and deserved the win. With thanks to Naomi for helping me with this tough decision, please enjoy the 2012 Fire Escape Teens Between Cultures Poetry Contest winner.
Moon Cake
by Cathy Guo
My mother had beautiful hands. Poised
with a brush and a palette of color,
she showed me the movement of landscape
and its words: da hai, for the sea she never
saw in childhood,
sha mo, for the desert sand of Lanzhou
in her mouth,
cao ping, for the great plains in which hundreds of
Tibetan girls sang with skirts
made from jasmine petals and rain
that was on the verge of hail.
My mother had beautiful hands.
She coiled them around the moon cakes
when our lunar calendar turned, holding mine
gently as she traced the outline of a
sky. Moon cakes are a
cure for loneliness, for homesick. We see
the same moon here and there, we have the
same moon inside us. I was then too young
to understand tradition or void.
My mother had beautiful hands.
Time would not be as merciless,
its hair pushed back with shoulders set hard
in a Western way. My mother
slowly developed an ache
from long hours at the fabric
factory, and the year I turned twelve
she began to wear gloves.
My mother had beautiful hands.
With them she hid the outline of
a crescendo, quiet breakage like a
stone wrapped secretly in silk.
The chasm in mistranslation between
us grew with every Zodiac’s turn.
Moon cake, moon cake.
How the constellation
inside me trembles even now,
remembering.
Photo courtesy of jimmiehomeschool, via Creative Commons. Stay tuned for the prose contest winner!Come visit me on the Fire Escape!
August 20, 2012
TU BOOKS: Why Target an Author's Race in an Award?
TU Books , the fantasy, science fiction, and mystery imprint of Lee and Low, recently announced their first annual New Visions Award . "The New Visions Award will be given for a middle grade or young adult fantasy, science fiction, or mystery novel by a writer of color," they say.
I wondered why the award was restricted to the race of the author rather than of the characters, and asked Stacy Whitman, editorial director of TU BOOKS, about her take on this sticky issue. Here's the email exchange between the two of us (shared with Stacy's permission):
Mitali: Hi Stacy. Just wondering why you decided to focus the award on "writers of color" rather than "main characters of color"?
Stacy: This is like the Lee and Low New Voices Award , which is aimed at discovering new voices of color, given that so many writers are white. Everyone is still welcome to submit to our regular submissions. Hope that clears it up.
Mitali: Yes and no. I've always wondered how Lee and Low defined "of color."
Stacy: It's a good question. Here's the answer Louise usually gives writers who ask about it for New Voices, which I'll be adapting as people start to ask me:
While our company does acknowledge and actively work with Caucasian authors and illustrators, our New Voices contest specifically promotes the work of new writers who are not Caucasian. We use the term “color” in the commonly accepted way to refer to those writers and readers who might otherwise be referred to as members of minority populations (African Americans, Asian Americans, Latin Americans, and Native Americans), but who are fast becoming larger and larger percentages of the United States population. We apologize if you find this terminology exclusionary, but it is meant merely to be descriptive. For want of a better term, we use what is in common usage throughout the country.
As a company founded with the mission of creating books in which children of color can see themselves in the stories they read, we feel it is critical to acknowledge these unheard voices. In the mainstream world of children’s publishing—statistically dominated by works by and about Caucasians—writers of color and their stories for children have and continue to slip through the cracks, making up a small percentage of the children’s books published each year. Aside from our small efforts to promote new writers from diverse communities, you will find there are national children’s book awards that have similar focuses, for example the Coretta Scott King Award which acknowledges African American authors and illustrators, and the Pura Belpré Award which acknowledges Latino authors and illustrators.
It can be tricky—I personally prefer the author to define themselves, rather than for myself to define it. And for me it includes multiracial people (Tobias Buckell, an editor of Diverse Energies, for example, is half black and half white, even though many people just looking at him would assume he is "just" white, which is a complicated genetic thing that society oversimplifies). But what it comes down to is that we're trying to help discover new voices from underrepresented groups through this contest.
Me: Thanks, this is helpful. My opinion is that with all the mixing and melding going on, any authentic experience of a writer will ring through in the fiction if we focus on the culture/race of the character rather than of the author. If an upper middle class Bengali woman like me writes about a poor Bengali fisherman's son (as I'm doing right now), I'm crossing huge borders of class, gender, and caste, but not race ... may I write this story? I certainly hope so, because I am! Anyway, the goal is to widen the choices of fiction for readers so that we're not all rooting solely for educated upper class heroes with European roots ... the question is how to get there.
Stacy: Exactly, and this is pretty much a two-pronged approach for us--encouraging everyone to submit to the main submissions, but also doing the contest in a hunt for more diversity among writers as well as in the stories.
ABOUT THE AWARD
TU BOOKS , the fantasy, science fiction, and mystery imprint of LEE and LOW BOOKS, announces their first annual New Visions Award .
The New Visions Award will be given for a middle grade or young adult
fantasy, science fiction, or mystery novel by a writer of color. Authors
who have not previously had a middle grade or young adult novel
published are eligible.
The Award winner will receive a cash grant of $1000 and our standard
publication contract, including our basic advance and royalties for a
first time author. An Honor Award winner will receive a cash grant of
$500. Manuscripts will be accepted through October 30, 2012. See the full submissions guidelines here .
The
New Visions Award was established to help more authors of color break
into publishing and begin long, successful careers, while also bringing
more diverse stories to speculative fiction. The award is modeled after
Lee and Low's successful New Voices Award , which was established in 2000 and is given annually to a picture book written by an unpublished author of color.
Come visit me on the Fire Escape!
August 13, 2012
SCBWI Debuts On-The-Verge Emerging Voices Award
PRESS RELEASE:
August 5, 2012, LOS ANGELES — The Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI) announced the creation of the On-The-Verge Emerging Voices Award at their 41st Annual Conference in Los Angeles. The annual award, established by SCBWI and funded by Martin and Sue Schmitt, will be given to two writers or illustrators who are from ethnic and/or cultural backgrounds that are traditionally under-represented in children’s literature in America and who have a ready-to-submit completed work for children. The purpose of the grant is to inspire and foster the emergence of diverse writers and illustrators of children’s books.
The work will be judged by an SCBWI committee and two winners will each receive an all-expenses paid trip to the SCBWI Winter Conference in New York to meet with editors and agents, a press release to all publishers, a year of free membership to SCBWI, and an SCBWI mentor for a year. Deadline for submission is November 15, 2012. The winners will be announced December 15, 2012. The On-The-Verge Emerging Voices Award will be presented at the 2013 SCBWI Winter Conference in New York. Submission guidelines and information can be found at www.scbwi.org under Awards and Grants.
The award was inspired in part by the SCBWI’s increasing efforts to foster under-represented voices in children’s literature. According to SCBWI Executive Director Lin Oliver, “Every child should have the opportunity to experience many and diverse of points of view. SCBWI is proud to contribute to this all-important effort to bring forth new voices.”
The grant was made possible through the generosity of Sue and Martin Schmitt of the 455 Foundation who state: "While our country is made up of beautifully varied cultures and ethnicities, too few are represented in the voices of children's books. We hope to encourage participation by those not well represented, and look forward to having these stories widely enjoyed by all children."
About Martin and Sue Schmitt
Martin and Sue Schmitt are the founders of We Can Build an Orphanage, sponsoring the Kay Angel orphanage in Jacmel, Haiti. The organization was established in 2007 with the mission to provide a home and education for abandoned children infected with or affected by AIDS in Jacmel, Haiti. The Schmitt’s generous and continuous efforts to support SCBWI’s long-term goals also co-sponsored the 2007 Global Voices Program, which highlighted Mongolian artists and authors. To find out more information about the Kay Angel orphanage please visit www.kayangel.org.
About SCBWI
Founded in 1971, the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators is one of the largest existing writers’ and illustrators’ organizations, with over 22,000 members worldwide. It is the only organization specifically for those working in the fields of children’s literature, magazines, film, television, and multimedia. The organization was founded by Stephen Mooser (President) and Lin Oliver (Executive Director), both of whom are well-published children’s book authors and leaders in the world of children’s literature. For more information about the On-The-Verge Emerging Voices Award, please visit www.scbwi.org, and click “Awards and Grants.”
Come visit me on the Fire Escape!
August 5, 2012, LOS ANGELES — The Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI) announced the creation of the On-The-Verge Emerging Voices Award at their 41st Annual Conference in Los Angeles. The annual award, established by SCBWI and funded by Martin and Sue Schmitt, will be given to two writers or illustrators who are from ethnic and/or cultural backgrounds that are traditionally under-represented in children’s literature in America and who have a ready-to-submit completed work for children. The purpose of the grant is to inspire and foster the emergence of diverse writers and illustrators of children’s books.
The work will be judged by an SCBWI committee and two winners will each receive an all-expenses paid trip to the SCBWI Winter Conference in New York to meet with editors and agents, a press release to all publishers, a year of free membership to SCBWI, and an SCBWI mentor for a year. Deadline for submission is November 15, 2012. The winners will be announced December 15, 2012. The On-The-Verge Emerging Voices Award will be presented at the 2013 SCBWI Winter Conference in New York. Submission guidelines and information can be found at www.scbwi.org under Awards and Grants.
The award was inspired in part by the SCBWI’s increasing efforts to foster under-represented voices in children’s literature. According to SCBWI Executive Director Lin Oliver, “Every child should have the opportunity to experience many and diverse of points of view. SCBWI is proud to contribute to this all-important effort to bring forth new voices.”
The grant was made possible through the generosity of Sue and Martin Schmitt of the 455 Foundation who state: "While our country is made up of beautifully varied cultures and ethnicities, too few are represented in the voices of children's books. We hope to encourage participation by those not well represented, and look forward to having these stories widely enjoyed by all children."
About Martin and Sue Schmitt
Martin and Sue Schmitt are the founders of We Can Build an Orphanage, sponsoring the Kay Angel orphanage in Jacmel, Haiti. The organization was established in 2007 with the mission to provide a home and education for abandoned children infected with or affected by AIDS in Jacmel, Haiti. The Schmitt’s generous and continuous efforts to support SCBWI’s long-term goals also co-sponsored the 2007 Global Voices Program, which highlighted Mongolian artists and authors. To find out more information about the Kay Angel orphanage please visit www.kayangel.org.
About SCBWI
Founded in 1971, the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators is one of the largest existing writers’ and illustrators’ organizations, with over 22,000 members worldwide. It is the only organization specifically for those working in the fields of children’s literature, magazines, film, television, and multimedia. The organization was founded by Stephen Mooser (President) and Lin Oliver (Executive Director), both of whom are well-published children’s book authors and leaders in the world of children’s literature. For more information about the On-The-Verge Emerging Voices Award, please visit www.scbwi.org, and click “Awards and Grants.”
Come visit me on the Fire Escape!
July 31, 2012
2012 South Asia Book Award for Children’s and Young Adult Literature
2012 South Asia Book Award for Children's and Young Adult Literature Winners
Same, Same but Different by Jenny Sue Kostecki-Shaw (Henry Holt and Company, 2011). Pen Pals Elliot and Kailash discover that even though they live in different countries—America and India—they both love to climb trees, own pets, and ride school buses (Grade 5 and under).
Island’s End by Padma Venkatraman (G.P. Putnam’s Sons, division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 2011). A young girl trains to be the new spiritual leader of her remote Andaman Island tribe, while facing increasing threats from the modern world (Grade 6 and above).
2012 Honor Books
Sita’s Ramayana by Samhita Arni, illustrations by Moyna Chitrakar (Groundwood Books, 2011). The Ramayana, one of the greatest legends of ancient India, is presented in the form of a visually stunning and gripping graphic novel, told from the perspective of the queen, Sita (Grade 6 and above).
Following My Paint Brush by Dulari Devi and Gita Wolf (Tara Books Pvt. Ltd, 2010). Following My Paint Brush is the story of Dulari Devi, a domestic helper who went on to become an artist in the Mithila style of folk painting from Bihar, eastern India (Grade 5 and under).
No Ordinary Day by Deborah Ellis (Groundwood Books, 2011). Valli has always been afraid of the people with leprosy living on the other side of the train tracks in the coal town of Jharia, India, so when a chance encounter with a doctor reveals she too has the disease, Valli rejects help and begins a life on the streets. (Grade 6 and above).
Small Acts of Amazing Courage by Gloria Whelan (Simon & Schuster, 2011). In 1919, independent-minded Rosalind lives in India with her English parents, and when they fear she has fallen in with some rebellious types who believe in Indian self-government, she is sent "home" to London, where she has never been before and where her older brother died, to stay with her two aunts (Grade 6 and above).
2012 Highly Commended Books
Beyond Bullets: A Photo Journal of Afghanistan by Rafal Gerszak with Dawn Hunter (Annick Press, 2011). Award-winning photographer Rafal Gerszak spent a year embedded with the American troops in Afghanistan to bear witness to its people, culture, and the impact of war (Grade 6 and above).
The Wise Fool: Fables from the Islamic World by Shahrukh Husain, illustrations by Micha Archer (Barefoot Books, 2011). Meet Mulla Nasruddin, a legendary character whose adventures and misadventures are enjoyed across the Islamic world (Grade 5 and under).
The Grand Plan to Fix Everything by Uma Krishnaswami (Atheneum Books for Young Readers, an imprint of Simon and Schuster Children’s Publishing Division, 2011). Eleven-year-old Dini loves movies, and so when she learns that her family is moving to India for two years, her devastation over leaving her best friend in Maryland is tempered by the possibility of meeting her favorite actress, Dolly Singh (Grade 6 and up).
Karma by Cathy Ostlere (Razorbill, Penguin Group, 2011). Written in free verse poems in a diary format, this novel straddles two countries and the clash of Indian cultures in the tale of 15-year-old Maya (Grade 6 and up).
Words in the Dust by Trent Reedy (Scholastic Inc., 2011). Zulaikha, a thirteen-year-old girl in Afghanistan, faces a series of frightening but exhilarating changes in her life as she defies her father and secretly meets with an old woman who teaches her to read, her older sister gets married, and American troops offer her surgery to fix her disfiguring cleft lip (Grade 6 and up).
The 2012 South Asia Book Award Ceremony will be held in Madison, Wisconsin on Saturday, October 13, 2012. The SABA Award is sponsored by the South Asia National Outreach Consortium. Funded by the US Department of Education Title VI, Member National Resource Centers.
Submissions for the 2013 South Asia Book Award
Rationale
In recent years an increasing number of high-quality children's and young adult fiction books have appeared that portray South Asia or South Asians living abroad. To encourage and commend authors and publishers who produce such books, and to provide teachers with recommendations for classroom use, the South Asia National Outreach Consortium (SANOC) will offer a yearly book award to call attention to outstanding works on South Asia.
Criteria
Up to two awards will be given in recognition of a recently published work of fiction, non-fiction, poetry or folklore, from early childhood to secondary reading levels, published in English (translations into English will also be accepted) which accurately and skillfully portrays South Asia or South Asians in the diasporas, that is the experience of individuals living in South Asia, or of South Asians living in other parts of the world. The culture, people, or heritage of South Asia should be the primary focus of the story. The countries and islands that make up South Asia are: Andaman and Nicobar Islands, Afghanistan, Bangladesh, Bhutan, India, Nepal, Maldives, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, and the region of Tibet. We will also consider stories that take place in the Caribbean Islands that focus on a South Asian subject. In determining the award, books will be judged for: 1) quality of story; 2) cultural authenticity; and 3) potential for classroom use.
Eligibility
Eligible books include those that are published in the US, UK, Canada, and countries in South Asia. Consideration will be given to the ease with which school teachers and librarians in the United States would be able to order multiple copies. Books may be submitted by publishers or individuals, although the judges may consider any eligible book that comes to their attention.
Process
To nominate a 2012 copyright title, publishers or individuals are invited to submit review copies to the award committee by December 31, 2012. There is no entry fee. Committee members will review the nominated books individually and will consult reviews in major publishing/library journals. Contact Rachel Weiss, Award Coordinator, at (608) 262-9224 or saba@southasiabookaward.org.Come visit me on the Fire Escape!
July 27, 2012
Mitali of Mankato: All Things Maud Hart Lovelace
Some of you may remember how much I enjoyed visiting
Orchard House
, home of Louisa May Alcott, and
Prince Edward Island
, where L.M. Montgomery set her Avonlea novels. This past weekend I checked off another visit to a childhood home of a spiritual author-mother. I attended the "
Winding Hall of Fate: Betsy-Tacy Society Convention 2012
" in Mankato, Minnesota—or "Deep Valley," as it's known in Maud Hart Lovelace's beloved stories.
I was invited to speak on an author panel, but mainly went to see
if Mankato, like Concord, Ma, and Cavendish, PEI, felt like home thanks
to the rich sense of place created by my favorite authors. And yes, by golly, it did—despite some disturbing "urban renewal" (read: 1970s
uglification), I felt like I was wandering the streets of Deep
Valley with some of my favorite fictional friends.
Enjoy the photo tour below. I use fictional names in the captions; read the thoroughly-researched afterwords in the recent HarperPerennial reissues to discover more about the real people in Maud Hart Lovelace's life.
View from my hotel room of the hills bordering "Deep Valley," or Mankato.
The tall spire is the Presbyterian church where Bonnie's father was a pastor,
and the site of "Christian Endeavor" meetings in the novels.
I woke up early and strolled past Carney Sibley's house, where the crowd gathered.
The sleeping porch, where Carney and her guests slept in Carney's House Party.
Next, my walk took me past Lincoln Park, the edge of Betsy's neighborhood.
Cab was one of the proud instigators of the infamous cannon escapade.
Finally, at the top of High Street, I spotted the Ray's house
(impeccably restored and maintained by the Betsy-Tacy Society ).
A 360 view in the morning quiet.
"Is Betsy home, Mrs. Ray?"
Tea on Betsy's porch.
Julia's piano.
Tour of Betsy's house.
List of books owned by the Ray family.
Where everything pudding was concocted.
One of the ornaments bought in the annual Christmas shopping spree.
Maud Hart Lovelace's Book of Common Prayer.
Mrs. Ray's brass bowl.
Tacy's front porch (this house is also restored and
maintained by the Betsy-Tacy Society —join now!)
The bench where Betsy and Tacy shared picnics.
I walked up to the Big Hill, but it was jammed with homes (nice ones, but still).
Nonetheless, the stately trees were still as alluring as in the books.
Tib's chocolate-colored house.
The Muller's front entrance.
First Presbyterian Church, site of the Betsy-Bonnie-Tony triangle.
Carnegie Library, where Betsy and Joe prepared for the Essay Contests.
Miss Sparrow, Indian version, waits to meet Betsy.
The high school no longer exists, but here's what it looked like back in the day.
Mineopa Falls, site of a Sibley picnic in Carney's House Party.
Was this the Beidwinkle's farm? We think so.
Murmuring Lake.
View from the old cabins at Murmuring Lake.
The beautiful co-conspirators who organized the Convention:
Radhika Breaden and Barb Fecteau, aka Bonnie and Carney.
Jennifer Hart of HarperPerennial talks about how she brought the books
back into print and encourages us to share them with the
next generation of readers, which I plan to do. Won't you join us?
Note: I didn't take a photo of Emily's slough (from Emily of Deep Valley, my favorite Maud Hart Lovelace novel), but I did see it and we drove through what used to be known as "little Syria." Again, the slough looks just as I imagined it, even though what used to be the Webster's house is now the site of the high school. Here's a lovely photo of it taken by Francesca Russell.Come visit me on the Fire Escape!
I was invited to speak on an author panel, but mainly went to see
if Mankato, like Concord, Ma, and Cavendish, PEI, felt like home thanks
to the rich sense of place created by my favorite authors. And yes, by golly, it did—despite some disturbing "urban renewal" (read: 1970s
uglification), I felt like I was wandering the streets of Deep
Valley with some of my favorite fictional friends.
Enjoy the photo tour below. I use fictional names in the captions; read the thoroughly-researched afterwords in the recent HarperPerennial reissues to discover more about the real people in Maud Hart Lovelace's life.
View from my hotel room of the hills bordering "Deep Valley," or Mankato.
The tall spire is the Presbyterian church where Bonnie's father was a pastor,
and the site of "Christian Endeavor" meetings in the novels.
I woke up early and strolled past Carney Sibley's house, where the crowd gathered.
The sleeping porch, where Carney and her guests slept in Carney's House Party.
Next, my walk took me past Lincoln Park, the edge of Betsy's neighborhood.
Cab was one of the proud instigators of the infamous cannon escapade.
Finally, at the top of High Street, I spotted the Ray's house
(impeccably restored and maintained by the Betsy-Tacy Society ).
A 360 view in the morning quiet.
"Is Betsy home, Mrs. Ray?"
Tea on Betsy's porch.
Julia's piano.
Tour of Betsy's house.
List of books owned by the Ray family.
Where everything pudding was concocted.
One of the ornaments bought in the annual Christmas shopping spree.
Maud Hart Lovelace's Book of Common Prayer.
Mrs. Ray's brass bowl.
Tacy's front porch (this house is also restored and
maintained by the Betsy-Tacy Society —join now!)
The bench where Betsy and Tacy shared picnics.
I walked up to the Big Hill, but it was jammed with homes (nice ones, but still).
Nonetheless, the stately trees were still as alluring as in the books.
Tib's chocolate-colored house.
The Muller's front entrance.
First Presbyterian Church, site of the Betsy-Bonnie-Tony triangle.
Carnegie Library, where Betsy and Joe prepared for the Essay Contests.
Miss Sparrow, Indian version, waits to meet Betsy.
The high school no longer exists, but here's what it looked like back in the day.
Mineopa Falls, site of a Sibley picnic in Carney's House Party.
Was this the Beidwinkle's farm? We think so.
Murmuring Lake.
View from the old cabins at Murmuring Lake.
The beautiful co-conspirators who organized the Convention:
Radhika Breaden and Barb Fecteau, aka Bonnie and Carney.
Jennifer Hart of HarperPerennial talks about how she brought the books
back into print and encourages us to share them with the
next generation of readers, which I plan to do. Won't you join us?
Note: I didn't take a photo of Emily's slough (from Emily of Deep Valley, my favorite Maud Hart Lovelace novel), but I did see it and we drove through what used to be known as "little Syria." Again, the slough looks just as I imagined it, even though what used to be the Webster's house is now the site of the high school. Here's a lovely photo of it taken by Francesca Russell.Come visit me on the Fire Escape!
July 24, 2012
Four Young African Guys on Hollywood Stereotypes
Some of you may have already seen this, but this video is a classic example of how humor can be used effectively to discuss cultural stereotypes (as we're hoping to do in our forthcoming YA anthology from Candlewick, tentatively titled OPEN MIC).
Come visit me on the Fire Escape!
Come visit me on the Fire Escape!
July 18, 2012
Reflections On My Virtual Retreat
I took
time away from social media
this summer, and here's what I discovered:
(1) I was able to write, finishing a full draft of TIGER BOY (forthcoming from Charlesbridge in 2014). Good news: editor Yolanda Roy likes it!
(2) I relished the silence, not missing the loud opinions of people who abuse social media as propaganda. Twitter and Facebook simply aren't appropriate containers for the big issues of life. They are best for small talk, a perfectly valid, relaxing, entertaining form of communication. Blogs are better at serving up political and religious opinions, but still not as good as well-edited articles or excellent oral presentations, which both take more time to prepare and demand the accountability of vetted research. For big, deep thoughts and arguments, at least in my opinion, there's nothing to match the spacious, thoughtfully crafted vessel of a book.
(3) I read more, prayed more, and deliberately spent more time with people face to face.
(4) After this break, I've decided to put a stop to assessing my own and others' social media "influence," getting rid of my Klout account and doing my best to ignore the numbers. Every voice matters equally, despite the claims of our celebrity culture.
(5) I got lonely at times, and remembered anew that isolation is a hazard of self-employment. The chat, humor, entertainment, and buzz of social media is a gift to writers, as is the ability to stay aware of news and events in the lives of people we cherish.
In any case, I'm back now. I'll be tweeting from the Betsy-Tacy convention this weekend in Mankato, Minnesota, where I'll be sharing five writing tips I've gleaned from author Maud Hart Lovelace. Here's to detox, rehab, and a fresh start.Come visit me on the Fire Escape!
(1) I was able to write, finishing a full draft of TIGER BOY (forthcoming from Charlesbridge in 2014). Good news: editor Yolanda Roy likes it!
(2) I relished the silence, not missing the loud opinions of people who abuse social media as propaganda. Twitter and Facebook simply aren't appropriate containers for the big issues of life. They are best for small talk, a perfectly valid, relaxing, entertaining form of communication. Blogs are better at serving up political and religious opinions, but still not as good as well-edited articles or excellent oral presentations, which both take more time to prepare and demand the accountability of vetted research. For big, deep thoughts and arguments, at least in my opinion, there's nothing to match the spacious, thoughtfully crafted vessel of a book.
(3) I read more, prayed more, and deliberately spent more time with people face to face.
(4) After this break, I've decided to put a stop to assessing my own and others' social media "influence," getting rid of my Klout account and doing my best to ignore the numbers. Every voice matters equally, despite the claims of our celebrity culture.
(5) I got lonely at times, and remembered anew that isolation is a hazard of self-employment. The chat, humor, entertainment, and buzz of social media is a gift to writers, as is the ability to stay aware of news and events in the lives of people we cherish.
In any case, I'm back now. I'll be tweeting from the Betsy-Tacy convention this weekend in Mankato, Minnesota, where I'll be sharing five writing tips I've gleaned from author Maud Hart Lovelace. Here's to detox, rehab, and a fresh start.Come visit me on the Fire Escape!
