Fave Reads of 2021 (#Bestof2021)

Hot dang! I’m actually getting this list out top of the year! [high five]

So, same as in 2020, I had a hard time reading steadily and regularly in 2021. That’s because (a) pandemic, (b) new job as an acquisitions editor, (c) working from home still, (d) finishing my own book, and (e) I left my role as contributing editor at Electric Lit (see b as the reason) and so I wasn’t reading as many galleys for new reads as per usual. Was I reading? Absolutely! But was I reading for funsies? Not as much. No daily commute means once again irregular reading time. I gotta say, as much as I dislike the MTA (I stand by those words) I got a good 2 hours or more of reading in Monday through Friday when I worked as a production editor in uptown Manhattan. That commute shortened with my new job in early 2020 and then all together went away once working from home became a, lucky, reality for many of us. It is a bit harder for me to read at home though I tried to rectify this in part with a new velvet reading chair! Here’s a link to it. (Thanks to Ebony Elizabeth Thomas for the inspiration!). And end of year I did actively take the week + off to just read and veg and write all for fun! Imagine that?!

As I say, to myself, every year I have no idea what 2022 will bring! If all bodes well my own book will be coming out in fall as will one of my first acquisitions as a new editor. So I expect busy times and maybe even less time for pleasure reading, but when I do get to read for pleasure it is indeed gratifying. Of the books I did get to read, I’d like to share some of my faves with you. Without further ado…

Circe by Madeline Miller (2018): Friends had been raving about this book all year. When folx hype stuff up I get a bit nervous because you’re going in with a lot of anticipation rather than as a blank slate. But, Circe did not disappoint! In fact I started it during Thanksgiving break thinking I would get in a chapter every few days. But I was unable to put it down, spending full evenings reading through. The prose is impeccable, the details luscious, the story fantastic. This is the book you should use as a teaching model for details and also character growth. It is SO good. Y’all read it. Just read it and re-read it now, for your own good. I now have Song of Achilles and cannot wait to savor that.

I’m Not Hungry But I Could Eat: Stories by Chris Gonzalez (2021): Gotta love friends debut years! This taut flash fiction collection from Gonzalez provides just the taste (pun intended) of stories to savor about so many facets of being. My favorite was “Here’s the Situation.” The stylings of this are absolutely something to learn from. Definitely get this collection and absorb these stories in one gulp or bit by bit—hey more food puns!

Born on the Water: The 1619 Project by Nikole Hannah-Jones, Renée Watson, & Nikkolas Smith (2021): The collaborative development of this picture book is gorgeous from the poetics and love within the text to the vibrant illustrations. The trio of Hannah-Jones, Watson, and Smith make sure to convey light and darkness in real ways both textually and visually. I hope ALL kids/families get this book on their shelves and read it over and over and over again.

Catrachos: Poems by Roy G. Guzmán (2020): The experimental stylings in format and style really do bring together so many elements and voices and perspectives throughout. These are poems to be savored and each piece builds so well into a satisfying whole of a collection.

Bastards of the Reagan Era: Poems by Reginald Dwayne Betts (2015): Y’all need to read this collection! I also requested folx in a criminal justice reading group read some of these poems because Betts really brings you into the heart and mind of a system and the people within it. From varying POVs the truth is never lost and what more can you ask for in great art but an inherent truth?

The Creature of Habit by Jennifer E. Smith & Leo Espinosa (2021): This was one of the last books I got to work on when I was part of the Random House Studio team and it’s adorable! Leo Espinosa’s artwork always makes me smile. It’s so bright and the fuzzy wuzzy Creature of Habit is adorable! Plus it has the sweetest lesson when he makes a new friend.

One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston (2021) : The latest from McQuiston is so good! It’s funny, heartwarming, sensual, and all that good stuff! And McQuiston did their diligence when it came to NYC subway research, appreciate that. The building romance between Jane and August, plus the family dynamics of August’s roommates leaves you rooting for everyone.

Mean by Myriam Gurba (2017): One of my first reads of 2021, Gurba’s hybrid work of nonfiction captures her voice, her experiences, and the exhilaration as well as the (unwanted) expectations/affections when growing up femme. I love Gurba’s writing in general and Mean blew me away showing what’s possible. Let us all embrace short texts that pack a punch.

Books I also read and eagerly enjoyed in 2021 include Hoodwitch: Poems by Faylita Hicks (2019), Pedro’s Theory by Marcos Gonsalez (2021), Interior Chinatown by Charles Yu (2020), What Will My Story Be? by Nidhi Chanani (2021), and Mutiny: Poems by Phillip B. Williams (2021), Those Kids From Fawn Creek by Erin Entrada Kelly (2022).

Happy Reading!

Fave Reads of 2020 (#Bestof2020)

I did mean to publish this end of 2020/early 2021. I had 80% of it drafted and everything, y’all! As the saying goes: better late than never. So here are my faves of 2020.

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From 2020 draft: I’m gonna say something similar that many have said this year: I had a hard time. With a lot of things but especially my tried & true love: reading. Jess Zimmerman at Electric Literature wrote a really good post about having a hard time reading due to the events of 2020 that are also bleeding into 2021 and will be in our psyche for a long while.

Now, I did start and stop many books. Some that I just didn’t have the bandwidth to finish due to content but were/are great reads and others I just wasn’t feeling and gave up on 50 or more pages in. If I had included those my tally would’ve been 50+, which is still less than my 62 aim for 2020. Perhaps next year I’ll go above and beyond my goal or perhaps I won’t and may get stymied from our current situation extending. Who knows? I do know that by not reading, notice the dearth of poetry on this list (sigh), really hampered my own creativity. I get SO much inspiration from arts and not being able to go to museums or live shows, socialize, or read steadily/daily impeded other ways I was absorbing methods for my own artistic expression. TV and film can do but so much. And a hope I have for 2021 is to not only be healthier by moving/exercising more in my current WFH life but to also carve out time to read at least 45 minutes a day to help get the mind percolating. Wish me luck! Now on to some of my favorite reads of 2020.

The Illness Lesson by Clare Beams (2020): I believe this may have been one of the first books I read start to finish in 2020 and I was surprised how much I enjoyed it. The premise had me intrigued and the writing dug the hooks in so that I couldn’t stop. I even wrote an essay about the themes in Illness Lesson because Beams’ prose really tapped into how much the world can beat you down and make you second guess yourself.

Infinite Country by Patricia Engel (2021): The writing is sparse but the emotions run high in what would become an immediate bestseller for Engel. This is the kind of book you can also learn from, tightly packed, clear details, sensory utilized consistently. So beautiful and not a “typical” immigration story as labeling it as such is not only inaccurate but a limitation. Really enjoyed this and can’t wait for more from Engel, and to read her backlist.

Tigers, Not Daughters by Samantha Mabry (2020): I am a huge fan of Mabry’s National Book Award longlisted YA novel All the Wind in the World. So I was pleasantly surprised when I received a copy of her latest book smack dab at the start of quarantine. This was one of the first books I read start to finish once quarantine was officially in play throughout the United States and Mabry did not disappoint! Mabry’s writing is always excellent and her sentences are to be savored. Get this one if you hadn’t already.

Class Act by Jerry Craft (2020): I wouldn’t dare compare the bestselling Class Act to the bestselling/award-winning New Kid because they stand solidly on their own. This was exactly the type of book I needed during quarantine. Graphic novels in general have, finally, been more sought out by major publishers. And I’m glad because books that combine humor, commentary, and put you at ease like this one are really great for kids, especially Black kids, to have when times are dreary.

Twins by Varian Johnson & Shannon Wright (2020): As I mentioned, I craved graphic novels as we headed into fall and several months in quarantine. I needed the visuals and “lighter” fare. So you’ll see a few on this list because I wanted more and more. I loved the sisterly bonds in Twins and how their love for each other, even as they were coming into their own never wavered.

A Is for Audra: Broadway’s Leading Ladies from A to Z by John Robert Allman and Peter Emmerich (2019): Emmerich’s illustrations really make this book for me, no offense to the wonderful rhyme from Allman, connecting each letter and person(s). It’s so vibrant and encapsulates the beauty of Broadway that I miss so much. Whether you’re a fan of Broadway or not I highly suggest this book as a celebration of women in the arts.

The Office of Historical Corrections by Danielle Evans (2020): I’m a big fan of short stories and wish I had been able to read more or had more on my radar. Either way, Evans’ latest was a great read utilizing humor and reality and, on occasion, turning the world on its head slightly to show how what we’re dealing with now has been part of a larger history. Read this and her debut Before You Suffocate Your Own Fool Self ASAP if you hadn’t already.

The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett (2020): One of the biggest bestsellers of 2020, Bennett’s second novel was one everyone heard about. And it is a lovely and piercing read. Switching POVs over time—and you know I love multi-POV stories—as well as looking at passing and giving us a bit more context from a contemporary lens, though a good chunk of the story is in the past/recent past, outside the Harlem Renaissance tomes, Bennett’s look at two sister’s choices in how to live their lives doesn’t skirt hard truths.

Max & the Midknights by Lincoln Pierce (2019): Another graphic novel! And a fun one to a bestselling series from Pierce. Max and his merry friends are on a mission and it’s great to see a kind of Scooby Doo gang vibe in this medieval look at young people finding their destinies. Super cute and funny.

How Much of These Hills Is Gold by C. Pam Zhang (2020): Longlisted for the Booker Prize and shortlisted for the Center for Fiction First Novel Prize, Zhang’s debut is phenomenal and a great first read of 2020. I’m hoping we’ll see a worthy adaptation of this to the screen because Zhang’s storytelling is absolutely cinematic.

Running by Natalia Sylvester (2020): Sylvester’s YA debut is just the book we need. As the daughter of a conservative politician comes into her own politics and beliefs there’s a lot to traverse. You can love folx and also disagree but this is hard. How much have people sacrificed for other’s dreams and what about broaching hard conversations? In Running, there are no easy answers, which is why I love this book and what it provides for young readers who are more politically aware than I was at their age.

The Death of Vivek Oji by Akwaeke Emezi (2020): As always Emezi’s prose is pristine, taut, and emotionally charged. The beauty of Vivek Oji is the love for a character we know from the start will pass, but has such a bright life on the page as a corporeal being and in the after life.

Other enjoyable reads in 2020 include: Real Life by Brandon Taylor, Memorial by Bryan Washington, Ways to Make Sunshine by Renee Watson, and Stamped: Racism, Antiracism, and You by Jason Reynolds & Dr. Ibram X. Kendi.

Happy reading!

Fave Reads of 2018 (#Bestof2018)

Well, this has been in my queue for a good year so I guess no better time then the present. I had said the only reliable post I do for my blog is an annual reading one and apparently that’s a big ole lie. Or at least it was the year an anthology I edited was published (which is quite good if I say so myself). Anywho, here you have it! Of the 60 books I read in 2018 there was a lot of fiction and nonfiction and, sadly, not as much poetry. So once again I made a vow for the upcoming year to read more poetry (spoiler: I do read more!).

Here they are in no particular order. You may have read many of these already, and I’ll note that not all were published in 2018 (a couple pubbed in 2019 and I had access thanks to ARCs).

Gingerbread by Helen Oyeyemi (2019) - This was my first foray into Oyeyemi’s writing and may I say it is wonderful! Her writing! Her characters! Her/Their wit! Just so freaking good. I found myself laughing out loud and staying up late (since I wasn’t able to sleep in Marrakech). When I got a chance to speak to her about this book I found Oyeyemi to be increasingly personable and kind. So yeah I’ll be reading ALL her books. She has another one on the horizon in a couple years.

Good Talk: A Memoir in Conversations by Mira Jacob (2019) - One of the best books of 2019 (you’ll see the lists) and it’s completely warranted. Whenever I discuss this book with anyone they are hands down enamored with the execution and also relating to the tangible ways Jacobs conveys a lot of emotions that conflict and also combine to make us human and, hopefully, more aware. Such an essential work and I hope it continues to get as many accolades as it deserves. I was so glad to speak to her about this book pre-pub. Also give it as gifts this holiday season! Lord knows it’ll help or at least serve as an entrypoint for some tough conversations.

Becoming by Michelle Obama (2018) - I was gifted a copy and the opportunity to hear Obama speak at Barclay’s end of 2018 so I’ll just say I was smitten! Ghostwriter or not this sounds like Michelle Obama from the first to the last page. Her experience and the weight of it, the way she and Barack Obama first met, her trajectory as wife, mother, and soon First Lady. Wow. We get to see her as her and it’s a gift to do so.

Can We All Be Feminists? edited by June Eric-Udorie (2018) - I ended up loving this collection and the thought/care Eric-Udorie put behind it as an editor. She and I also spoke about editing an anthology and doing one around feminism in a time when it feels like the interwebs constantly discusses feminism in ways that are helpful (and hurtful) is a huge task. It is not easy at all. And Eric-Udorie adds a lot of elements of dissection, privilege, and awareness throughout of what we need to be thinking of when it comes to intersectional feminism, not solely feminism. Highly recommend this one to all.

Forget It by Anastascia-Renée  (2017) - Poetry! I had the pleasure of meeting Anastascia-Renée during a tour stop in Seattle where she hosted and I got her book which is WOW. Incisive and so damn insightful when it comes to the growth of self beyond relationships as well as in the midst of a break up. This is the book I recommend to those going through a hard time or having gone through it to feel that kinship. That’s what the best books do.

Saga Volumes 8 & 9 by Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples (2017 & 2018) - All I have to say is GODDAMN it how could it end like this and then go on hiatus??? HOW DARE THEY! That is all…for now.

We Are Never Meeting in Real Life: Essays by Samantha Irby (2017) - I’m mad I waited to read this one. It was a splurge by at my local indie since I had heard so much and really wanted some humor in my life. I usually don’t love humor books but I loved this one! Funny and not saccharine sweet. Irby gets real to the point her and her feline get into it even as it says it’s goodbye. Irby has more to come in 2020 so buckle up y’all.

Junk by Tommy Pico (2018) - Hearing Pico read this in-person is its own experience. One I highly recommend. Reading it yourself, with Pico’s voice ringing in your head, is also beneficial to absorb how relationships, sense of self, and junk it’s most tangible form are part of our lives always. His trilogy ended this year with FEED (so I am gonna make a plan to read/re-read these all in one to get the full effect).

Heavy: An American Memoir by Kiese Laymon (2018) - Laymon’s most personal book to date is mostly in 2nd person and it works to really get you in there. The heaviness of Heavy exudes the many facets of what we carry with us and how over time. It’s hard to sum a book up like this beyond saying it’s crucial reading and something you don’t forget. You cannot, and hopefully in the analysis and remembrance we grow as people to learn more about those around us and ourselves. Kiese and I also had a heavy (no pun intended) convo about this book and writing “truth.”

The Reckonings by Lacy M. Johnson (2018) - The titular essay is what got me seeking this book out. I heard Johnson read it at a conference and I immediately knew I had to read this all. Privilege, justice, feminism are all thematic elements but Reckonings is so much more than the idea of themes, it’s about what’s affecting people and how. We can all relate to the material and there are hard things to hear within these essays, it’s all essential and it’s all candid and beautifully written. I cannot recommend this book enough. You can read me gush a bit about it in an interview with Lacy last year.

She Would Be King by Wayétu Moore (2018) - I got the chance to read Moore’s book twice for conversations last fall and it’s even better on the re-read! The ways Moore ties in an intraracial story with speculative elements, slavery, and the how privilege (there’s that word again) comes into play in and out of cultures is expansive and really detailed. The stories come together in ways that are not predictable and you want to continue this journey with everyone far beyond the ending.

Love War Stories by Ivelisse Rodriguez (2018) - Viva la short story! A finalist for the PEN/Faulkner Prize earlier this year I am a huge fan of Rodriguez’s debut collection. I mean wowza, the range in voices, perspectives, and scope. Love War Stories really does have love as the thruline in all it’s iterations from the beauty of it to the pain and fear that comes with it. I heartily recommend this collection to all. One of the best of 2018.

Maid by Stephanie Land (2019) - Land’s memoir would become a NYT best seller at the very beginning of 2019 and deservedly so. It’s a close-up view to poverty that not a lot of people know about. Myself included in these days. The ways that the system really screws you and how poverty is defined by state/federal levels. People are struggling even when employed, so let’s look more at our systems and less at the people just trying to make it day by day.

Black No More by George S. Schuyler (reissued 2018) - Bring on the satire! I had not read Schuyler before and actually assigned this book as part of a Harlem Renaissance reading group I lead this fall because it' deserves to be read/discussed! It goes there in a way that definitely has a definitive mission and, at the same time, has a lot to say about race relations and the ways in which Black people navigate the world of privilege and the ways in which power and hierarchy are always present even when we’re “on the same playing field.”

All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr (2014) - I’m late to reading this Pulitzer Prize winner but the writing itself is so intricate and so spare. Some chapters are as short as one page and not a detail as lost! I do not know a lot about WWII beyond the perfunctory teachings from school. But this world that he provides and the people encapsulated within a true tragedy bridges something really necessary in seeing/feeling details and recognizing how much was lost.

Listen, Slowly by Thanhha Lai (2015) - I teach this book as much as I can because the voice is tremendous! So funny! So sweet! So snarky! I love it! A trip to Vietnam brings about a lot of family discoveries, not necessarily secrets but an appreciation for history and culture that the protagonist learns being a privileged American and not knowing enough about their heritage and how much it means to her gram who is on a journey for some answers post-war.

You Don’t Know Everything, Jilly P! by Alex Gino (2018) - You may notice a trend in me admiring these books around privilege but that doesn’t mean they’re heavily “message-y”. Gino’s Jilly P! is fun, sweet, and humorous as well as serious when it counts. Jilly has a lot to learn, as does her family. With a new baby on the way who is hearing impaired Gino wants to look at race and ableism and ally-ship for middle graders. This is just the book that doesn’t talk down to them because it’s constantly engaging them.

Tradition by Brendan Kiely (2018) - So happy to read the latest from Kiely which looks at privilege in a boarding school from a place of patriarchy and financial status among other things. I love how Kiely approaches privilege from two perspectives and how he doesn’t dismiss those who helped people learn along the way. This is a story that doesn’t sugarcoat how the world works, sadly. So expect some real honesty here, and that’s something young people need.

The Poet X by Elizabeth Acevedo (2018) - The Poet X pretty much won every award there was to win in 2018 to 2019 (including the first POC to win a Carnegie Medal for Children’s Lit). Acevedo’s debut really stems from the personal connection and the lyrical style (it’s a novel-in-verse) and because poetry is her home base as a slam poet it certainly carries the strength and power within each poem to have us totally engrossed in Xiomara’s life and wants and struggles as a teen. It feels urgent because it is.

What It Means When a Man Falls from the Sky: Stories by Lesley Nneka Arimah (2017) - Wow. Stunning. Arimah’s debut collection, as she mentioned at a writer’s conference, is actually very feminist and reading it with that broadened awareness helped me see the limitations I, and others, may put on the scope of work that is conscious socially and politically. There are speculative elements to some stories and much of it is contemporary. From hair babies to family discord this is a collection I consistently recommend to folks and one I want to emulate in it’s poignancy.

Sister Outsider by Audre Lorde (reissued 2007) - Got to read this for a convo with the great Min Jin Lee and what a collection! I needed this book as an undergraduate and wish I had read it several times over in my 20s to my 30s. But now is as good a time as any to get into some Audre Lorde. Re-read her as often as you can!

Don’t Touch My Hair! by Sharee Miller (2018) - This was such a fun picture book and I’m so glad I got an advance readers copy. The journey is really well rendered for young people and my co-worker’s, now 5 year old son, loves this book! It helps teach kids about boundaries and I love Miller’s approach to doing so as a little girl wants people to stop touching her hair.

Other titles I very much enjoyed in 2018 include: An American Marriage by Tayari Jones, Heads of the Colored People by Nafissa Thompson-Spires, Betty Before X by Ilyasah Shabazz and Renée  Watson, Pride by Ibi Zoboi, A Lucky Man by Jamel Brinkley, and For Every One by Jason Reynolds.

Saying "When": Why I Backed Out of a TEDx Talk

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There's one thing about me that has been a detriment and also an admired aspect of my personality: I often don't quit things. I see them through, even when it may not be opportune to do so. But nowadays, at this time politically and simply age-wise, this method of persistence is not often healthy or a positive trait. It's why I've been stressed much of the time due to how much I add to my plate. While I have been saying "no" more often than not (particularly for unpaid opportunities) I have been saying "yes" to paid opportunities and ones that create visibility. I know we've all started from a place of doing things for low or no pay. And to this day many of us may still. That's an individual choice, pure and simple. 

This year in particular has been a roller coaster. The inauguration, the news cycle, winning grants, losing my grandmother, editing an anthology solo, writing my own work, running a podcast by myself for 3 years running, volunteering for organizations, working full-time and part-time jobs. It is all a balancing act that teeters the scales indefinitely. So, when I had the opportunity to submit for a TEDx Talk in Upstate New York, I didn't think much of it. I'd speak on diversity since that's usually why people contact me and I'd either get it or I wouldn't. When I was under serious consideration I also had to put in time to do a test video and write a sample speech. And from there more discussion before admission end of June. This is with the date of the actual talk happening in mid-September. Preparation happened in between that time and also writing a speech. From formal acceptance to now I was asked to do several panels aligned with literary festivals that happen in early fall in New York City. These are great festivals to be part of and I am always honored to be asked. So I had a balancing act of several events in the span of 8 days while still doing the work I am paid to do along with my own writing. More stuff arose, a contributing gig, an authenticity read, and so on. This all seemed manageable the more I said "yes." 

Welp, I lost my grandmother in mid-July and was not at home for about half that month. I was late on edits to contributors, I was negligent in my own work, and I had not written my speech. August was all about catch up. Of course time flies when you have deadlines and when I went back to my TEDx speech I found I simply didn't like it. I wasn't a fan of the message I was sending. The closer the date came the less time I had to rehearse and the more I realized that this speech was not the one I wanted to put out on a national platform. Receiving feedback and assurances that it was a "good" speech were kind, but it doesn't have to be a "good" speech for you to want to do it. It has to be something you stand by.

I'm a perfectionist in some respects. When my name is on something I need to be proud of the product. It's part of why my output is not as high as others because I do slave over words and message and meaning and intent. It's what makes me a good editor but also a slow writer. So I reviewed these words over and over and found I could not relay them with enthusiasm. This meant I couldn't stand behind a product I didn't believe in, nor travel to a convention and memorize words I didn't have the heart to say. It's not ideal to back out less than 2 weeks before an event but I had to stick to my own beliefs and the work I put out that has not only my name but face on it. 

I will post the speech here later on (warning it's a bit verbose as I was still in editing mode for it before I decided to quit). This is more a post about recognizing the need to stop and say "when." I quit volunteering earlier this summer because I was tired and frustrated about unpaid labor among other things, yet I hesitated to leave because I felt the work was important. Even now with a TEDx I didn't want to disappoint the people counting on me, but I knew that my backing out--while not a good look--was more about being certain of the work itself. Having a bad performance while stressed and relaying words I didn't enjoy would not have elevated the event but brought it down, whether I could pull it off or not. At the end of the day my own mentality needs to remain intact. I've been lucky when many have pushed through to help me out regardless of how much they had on their plate. Yet even if they had to back away there's an understanding that we all need to accept: We have limits and it's okay to admit that. I have mine and in the grand scheme of a very hectic September the one thing I could back out of without regret was this TEDx talk. And believe me, while doing it was hard the relief felt after formally taking this off my list was immense and allowed me to refocus on what I did feel confident in.

In sum: listen to your gut, figure out what the stressor is, and cut that out as best you can. People will be disappointed and/or upset, but at the end of the day if you're in a good place from not adding more to your plate than it was worth it with no regrets. 

A Reminder: Your Voice/Work Is Necessary

Last Friday, I had the opportunity to read at the 5-year anniversary of the Boundless Tales reading. What I read, and submitted, was a portion from my short story collection. Yes, the one I've been working on longer than I like to admit though not as long as I guess warrants complaint to some.

If I'm honest, I haven't looked at my fiction, let alone this collection, since I was at VONA in June. For the most part I've dedicated myself to writing a lot of nonfiction this and much of last year. When I returned from VONA I was tired, dehydrated, hot (read: irritable), and stuck on what to do to fix my work. This is par for the course, at least it is for me. You get a lot of feedback and suggestions. You receive some blows and some praise you have to sit with. Plus, your mind is filled with all this (potential) material as you return home from priorities you briefly escaped and now have to deal with.

I think a form of escape for me has been nonfiction because it ties to a reality and I can better report that story. It's a different way of thinking but there are correlations to fiction and fiction writing, hence the genre tags of narrative nonfiction and creative nonfiction. I have professed I am not a "fast" writer. It takes me a long time to get it “right.” I feel dejected that the output isn't generated as quickly nor is what seems complete actually done.

For more than two plus months I put this collection aside. I figured, as I have before, perhaps the collection is not the work that will be my debut. Perhaps this is not the tome that will land the agent or the publishing deal, despite the requests for full when it’s done, despite the intrigue on faces when I describe it. Perhaps I have a lot more work to do elsewhere to help me get to where I want to be. In my most recent podcast interview with my friend Rion Amilcar Scott he said that spending years on something "unpublishable" isn't the worst thing that can happen. You learn from it. It's its own form of education.

But then, I went to Friday’s reading. I had applied to be part of the anniversary reading when I was at VONA, before my work got critiqued, when I thought I may actually finish it in fall. I was the last reader of seven. It was a small, hot space with a packed crowd. I was glad to see three friends in the audience and several familiar faces. I waited and listened to local poets, playwrights, and fiction writers read their work and applauded them all. I looked around before I went on and whispered to my friend, "I am the only reader of color on this roster." She gave me a slow nod and said, "I know."

I wasn't so much worried about how the audience responded, but I talk about racism, I talk about a mother almost losing her child in a store, I talk about insecurity and identity in a span of 6 pages. We'll see how this goes, I thought.

I went up, a camera was on me from my right and another directly in front of me. I made a few quips about how wonderful Queens is but don't move her because my rent is low (for NYC), please and thank you. Then I read. I got laughs when I didn't expect it, gasps on certain (very descriptive) lines, and I saw when I panned the audience people paying close attention. When I finished there was applause, but it felt different in a way, it felt like they hung on to every word and truly grasped the trepidation of Mikayla as she almost lost her child.

When people grasp your hand and tell you they appreciate your exploration of humanity, it means a lot. When people give you a hug and say "Are you a mother? Because you got that spot on," it means a lot. When people stay back to tell you they really enjoyed their work, it means a lot. When someone emails you that they taught one of your published stories in their writing class, it means so much. And it especially means a lot because—what you don’t admit out loud—is that you doubt yourself. When I read Mikayla’s piece to the audience, and later again to myself, I was reminded how much I loved it, how much work I put into it, how it was successful in many ways. This was one of those times I needed a reminder. And sometimes those cues come just when you need and least expect them.