the clash

I’m listening to The Clash right now and “Police & Thieves” has a ska beat, if I’m not mistaken (just checked—it’s a cover of a reggae song by Junior Murvin). Last week I went to a Basquiat exhibit on police brutality at the Guggenheim and I’ve since written one poem about my 12-year-old character’s take on the provocative paintings. Today’s task is to write a poem about the first time he hears The Clash after a White friend gives him a mixtape. We sold a middle grade novel-in-verse a few weeks ago but the project hasn’t been announced so I’m keeping mum for now. I’ve got a few things under wraps—Dragons in a Bag is part of two big literacy initiatives but I’m not allowed to share details until October 15 and November 1. All week I’ve had to spend 2-3 hours clearing my inbox because trips have to be planned and invitations accepted or declined. It’s kind of a tedious way to start the day, but it’s also heartening to know that my work is circulating and resonating with more people. Still, it’s easy to mistake all this email correspondence for the work itself and it’s NOT—books still have to be written and so I made a writing agenda yesterday to help keep me on track. I think I can finish the MG novel by the end of October IF I focus for the next few weeks. But, of course, as I worked on my agenda, I came up with another idea for a YA novel-in-verse. Carlisle isn’t too far from Lancaster and I’ve been thinking about the residential school there that traumatized so many Native American children. Not my story to tell but…I have a YA dystopian novel that touches on how a group’s culture is broken so I’ve already done a little research. And what if a Black girl in the 1880s somehow met up with a runaway from the residential school. There seem to be so many obvious overlaps. Will think about it some more. An editor in Canada just reached out about collaborating so will see how she feels about that idea. Then there’s Daughters of Zion—I’ve compiled the names of ten Black women from Lancaster County whose voices need to be heard. #7 is Hannah Bosley, a formerly enslaved woman who ran a boarding house in Columbia. Her portrait is so intriguing—did she bring those items as a way of showing her status or wealth? Or were they accessories she needed in her profession? Why have a muff *and* mitts—unless the mitts were for handling something hot. Is her basket wrapped in something like duct tape? Did she sell hot pies? So many possibilities…

I’m hoping to have at least a few of the dramatic monologues written by the end of the year because Franklin & Marshall College will be hosting Sonya Clark as artist-in-residence and I’ve been invited to contribute to their programming. I haven’t been in Lancaster for two months and I feel like I keep getting signs that moving here was the right decision to make at the right time. I wanted to travel less, which means I’m “bundling” gigs when I do go out of state. And because my cost of living has been drastically reduced, my fall income is going a lot farther. I went to church last Sunday (!!!) for the first time in decades; everyone at Bethel AME was welcoming and now I’ve got more potential collaborators. The burial ground next to the church includes several women and infant girls from the Moton family…think I’ll add at least one of them to my book. It almost seems too easy, the way things are falling into place. But a Black feminist artist friend reminded me that sometimes struggle is all we know and all we’ve come to expect. It isn’t like that for everyone. It doesn’t have to be like that for me.

Last week The Conscious Kid kindly hosted the cover reveal for . I have a lot of respect for that duo so it meant a lot that they were moved by my poems. A Black woman scholar who will be moderating one of my panels at NCTE read it as well and called SHN “glorious.” I’ll be talking about the book at YALSA in Memphis and then again at NCTE in Baltimore. Yesterday I attended a webinar on the Harriet Tubman Museum and Education Center in Maryland; Edi and I are going to try to drive out there during the conference. And, of course, the film‘s coming soon…

Thought I would write out on the deck this afternoon; there’s a cool breeze making my wind chime sing, and I hear birds chattering in the pine trees. They haven’t discovered my bird feeder yet but I’m still hopeful. Sadly my wifi doesn’t seem to be working back here so I’ll have to go inside to publish this post. Tomorrow I head up to Toronto for a few days. Doubt I’ll get much writing done but I have an interview with the kid lit columnist for The Globe & Mail—that counts as work! And will try to pen a few haiku since I see butterflies everywhere and they’re certainly worth 17 syllables…

butterflies cast the

smallest shadows as they dance

in September sun