Year of ME

Today's my 35th Birthday! It seems fitting to post a reflective piece being another year older. Here goes... The day it released I received a copy of Shonda Rhimes’ Year of Yes. I don’t often read self-help(ish) type books. But hey the book came with the tickets of her appearance at the 92Y so why not?

Here’s the premise: One day Shonda Rhimes of all people has a metaphorical wake-up when she realizes she’s not happy. One of the most power women (of color) in television was not happy. She tended to hole herself up and not do things that scared her or took her out of her comfort zone. She was happiest when with her kids, in her jams/sweats, and/or writing. She was not someone who was into parties or public speaking, these things freaked her out easily.

So she decided to challenge herself for one year. She was prompted by a comment from her sister who essentially said she never said “yes” to anything instead going on to complain about all the invites to events, being super busy in her success, and so on and so forth. However, she didn’t indulge in the celebrity life people were asking her to be a part of. She really wasn’t living period. And then, voila she made a change and while it wasn’t immediately soothing over time she got over those hurdles and realized that once something that terrified her was over and done with she didn’t die. Life goes on.

I guess the desired effect occurred for me after reading that book in that I realized instead of a “Year of Yes” I needed a “Year of No.”

Last year was not an ideal year. It wasn’t a horrible one when accumulating everything that occurred from January to December mind you, though it wasn’t one of those “relief” stop-gap years I was hoping for after dealing with noisy neighbors then moving unexpectedly (I’d do so again in 2015 after doing so in 2014) to a new noisy neighbor and steadily trying to get out of debt after my divorce. While I ended 2014 with a completely revised draft of my Collection along with a promise that I’d focus on my YA I didn’t write much fiction at all. To be honest, I went most of the damn year without looking at either, which is unacceptable in my eyes. I wrote, I did I swear! But mainly essays, very few blog posts as you know, and did less freelance but still a sizable portion. But what I did most of all was give myself to volunteer work that required a lot of me. I participated in projects that fell through after I had spent many hours/months on them. I said “Yes” to way too much in the hope of helping the larger mission and movement. I ended up going from doing 70% of the MiP podcast to 100% which also added weight. I gave in to being humored and complimented on my ability to get things done and in saying “yes” continually believed I could handle it all when in fact I was not balancing anything because the writing went by the wayside in a large way.

Not writing hurts, it affects me on a core emotional level. The more I meet, get to know, ultimately befriend published writers or am in those communities I feel the fact that I am not a published writer. That my Collection is still being finalized and that my new YA project is still confusing as hell in certain areas even though I know what I want to do but am unsure of the journey to get there. I work on multiple things at a time and am never at a loss for ideas. Which is good. But again it’s a balancing act and in this particular instance I wasn’t balancing my work but work for others. I got upset, especially when time I set aside for my writing was impeded upon by others wanting to talk about those projects or discuss the larger issues of society or be concerned more about being nice than being upfront and as I allowed my time to be sucked away I began to tally, in my head, how much time I could’ve spent writing. Even if it was material I’d go on to throw out, I would’ve been producing something.

As I’ve said continuously: A movement is nothing without the people. If the people aren’t happy or fulfilled or dedicated to the work they do they will drop off and hate everything. Morale will be at an all-time low leading to the work being done half-assedly. I basically wanted to quit activism in its entirety last year because I felt like that was overshadowing my writing. That people would forget I was a writer or assume it was easy to “have it all.” That’s another thing Shonda touched upon. The belief that she “has it all” and she answered simply as well as realistically: She doesn’t have it all and she can’t do it all. When she’s writing various episodes for her shows she’s not at home with her kids. When she’s with her kids she’s not writing. When she’s traveling she’s not doing either of the two mentioned. So, those who kept telling me to find a balance to it all? Pfft the balance is understanding that you cannot do everything and something has to give way. So what will it be? In 2015 it was my writing. That’s when I thought “Nope, not again. This needs to stop.”

And so, in fall, I said “no.” I stated just as I had to my ex-husband before I asked him to move out “I am not happy.” In December I pulled back, from freelance work that had me up at all hours due to tight deadlines. I pulled back from some aspects of my activism and gave notice for this year of when I’d be done in other areas. I made a firm stance that I would write for at least one hour every day no matter what. Since January 2nd—I wrote for 35 minutes on a flight back home on January 1st—I have stuck to that even when I am tired, stuck, really not in the mood.

I talk to people as much about my activism as I do about my writing to remind them that I am, in fact, a writer. I took on a contributor job with Forbes.com, paid. (That's another thing, if anything is going to take time away from my writing I'm going to need to be paid for it, thank-you-very-much.) I’d say a polite ‘no’ to other freelance projects that had too tight deadlines. I would pull back from anyone and anything that came between me and my writing.

Like Shonda did in her Year of Yes I learned more about who supported me and who didn’t. (I also lost a friend in 2015 adding a kick in the butt of how fleeting and uncertain life can be.) You keep it in the back of your mind that you know now what some people are truly like while keeping them near or at arms-length. Some I confronted on it and broke away, others I simply removed myself from situations, some I still see with this newfound knowledge.

So yeah, in one of the few self-help(ish) books I’ve read I found many parallels as well as inspiration. Maybe if it had been anyone but Shonda Rhimes the commonalities wouldn’t have been as stark or maybe so. But if you’re having one of those years already, ‘cause 2016 has been a trip so far in some circles, then take a moment to zero in on what’s making you unhappy. Once identified exorcise that crap out like you’re the priest and it/they are Linda Blair possessed. It’s time to have a Year of Reflection, a Year of Inner Piece, a Year just for You.

MiP Podcast + HiFi Reading Series Event Nov. 4th in NYC!

I am increasingly stoked about this reading happening tomorrow at HiFi Bar in the East Village! The Minorities in Publishing podcast was asked to curate the November reading for the HiFi Reading Series created by fellow writers & publishing professionals Lena Valencia & Ryan Britt. And I am honored not only to have been asked but to present these 4 generous, talented, and active artists in the industry.

Stop by for a drink, some smooth readings, and of course--because I'm me after all--cupcakes from Molly's Cupcakes! Reading starts at 8:15pm but get there early for seats!

Copies of Daniel José Older's critically-acclaimed fantasy Shadowshaper (Scholastic, 2015) will be available for sale thanks to PowerHouse Books and Daniel will happily sign copies.

Daniel José Older  is the author of the acclaimed YA fantasy Shadowshaper with Scholastic Inc., a finalist for the 2015 Kirkus Prize and recently named by Publisher's Weekly as one of the Best Fantasy Books of 2015. He is also the author of the Bone Street Rumba urban fantasy series that began this year with Half-Resurrection Blues from Penguin’s Roc imprint. The next book in the series is Midnight Taxi Tango releasing in January 2016.Publishers Weekly hailed him as a “rising star of the genre” after the publication of his debut ghost noir collection, Salsa Nocturna. He co-edited the anthology Long Hidden: Speculative Fiction from the Margins of History and guest edited the music issue of Crossed Genres. Daniel’s work has appeared on Buzzfeed, The Guardian, and Huffington Post, among other publications.

Glendaliz Camacho is a Pushcart Prize nominee, 2015 Write A House Finalist, and currently a recipient of a Lower Manhattan Cultural Council Workspace residency. She has been an artist in residence at Jentel, Caldera, Kimmel Harding Nelson, and Hedgebrook. Glendaliz is a proud VONA Voices alum. Her work appears in The Female Complaint (Shade Mountain Press), Soulmate 101 and Other Essays on Love and Sex (Full Grown People) and All About Skin: Short Fiction by Women of Color (University of Wisconsin Press), as well as The Butter, Saraba Magazine, and Kweli Journal, among others. She is currently working on a short story collection and novel.

Courtney Gillette is an essayist and reviewer, reviewing books for Lambda Literary since 2010. She co-hosts The Hustle reading series, helps behind the scenes at BinderCon, and has served as a judge for the Lambda Literary Awards. In 2013, her work was chosen by A.M. Homes for The Masters Review, and nominated for a Pushcart Prize. She lives in Brooklyn with one bookseller and three cats.

Ennis Smith is a native of Cincinnati, Ohio. His work has been published inCreative Nonfiction Magazine, Ganymede, Mr. Beller’s Neighborhood, and the nonfiction anthology Lost and Found: Stories from New York (W.W. Norton). Other credits include Boys in the City (Bruno Gmunder Verlag GmbH), In Our Own Write, and dance and theater criticism in Attitude: The Dancer’s Magazine. He is a graduate of The New School’s graduate creative writing program.

In Memoriam: Brook Stephenson

Hearts have been heavy these past couple of days. On Sunday, August 9th I, and others, found out that a wonderful person/artist/man died unexpectedly the previous evening. That man was Brook Stephenson. Brook basically knew every Black writer in NYC and potentially every writer of color in the area and other cities as well. He was most recognizable by his smile and his presence. I remember saying to him at a reading in Harlem, "Man, you are everywhere!" He nodded, grinned, and we chatted for a bit.

Brook and I met at the Harlem Holiday Fete in December 2014. He was giving shout outs to so many Black writers, established and emerging, and other industry folks. We were crowded, shoulder-to-shoulder, back-to-back at the Fete with the vibration steady from pockets of discussion throughout the restaurant. Brook was someone I was searching for to say "Thanks for organizing this," and when he went to the front of the restaurant/lounge he definitely had a welcoming aura about him. I introduced myself and he was encouraging. There was a queue starting up just to speak to him. He'd created a writers colony and wanted people to apply, he was working on his own stuff, (he was multitasking) also introducing others who may be like minds in terms of connection. We exchanged cards.

In 2015 is when I saw him more regularly because we were often at the same events. He wanted to support everyone. Jacqueline Woodson, Renee Watson, Tracy Sherrod, new artists at Sundays At, his own crew, the last reading I had hoped we may see each other was last week at B&N for The Book of Luke. I smiled when I saw his pictures because I just knew he'd be there. "Man, you are everywhere!"

I was unable to go to the reading he held for some of the residents at RI Writers Colony but I was confident I'd see Brook again soon. He had been coming to my readings this summer when I invited him, his a familiar face, the goatee framing his ever-present smile was always nice to see in the audience. I introduced him to my mom at my second-to-last reading of the month on a day that felt like 105-degrees. I thanked him repeatedly for coming out. "I'll see you soon" I said and believed I would.

I recall when Brook walked me to the subway after a reading. A true gentleman even though the 2/3 train was not on his path. He asked me why I was taking so long to write my collection. He remembered my statement for RI Writers Colony in which I revealed, as I had been in many statements, the 7 years and counting it was taking to get me to that place I felt my linked anthology would be complete. I got a bit indignant, "Well how long is it taking you to complete your work?" Again, that smile. We are both activists. We had so many ideas and balls in the air. Him the colony, a business, his work, a full-time job, writing gigs, and being everywhere. There's so much he was doing and wanted to do to elevate those voices. We commiserated in wishing we had more time. More time to focus on ourselves and our work but agreed, the work we're doing is important. Our brothers & sisters need to be heard and recognized and then that's when it'll be our time.

On Sunday I was with two writer friends talking about how to better reach out to other artists of color. We gather monthly and talk about our concerns and frustrations, we talk about the work to be done. It's a conversation I know Brook would've been able to contribute to highly and has. I checked Facebook quickly for something, but was halted by a post from a mutual friend tagging Brook as having passed. None of us believed it. And it seemed so many who were posting on Brook's wall couldn't either. "I just saw you" many wrote, said, and thought, including myself. I had seen him 3 weeks ago on that projected 105-degree day. He ate one of the lemon ricotta cookies I made and nodded saying he enjoyed them. He met my mother. He clapped and smiled and encouraged me to keep going. He was a constant, positive, welcomed presence urging you forward. And suddenly, he was gone.

I sat in shock. I am still shocked. I am shocked, saddened, and obsessive in looking at the many people Brook's mere presence touched and inspired. I am considering how to continue to honor a man who gave so much to others in genuine kindness and interest. I am hurt that such a wonderful person was taken so soon from so many of us, his family, friends, girlfriend, and even more the many who would've read his words on the printed page and connected to it on a deeper level. I am pushing myself to move beyond being shocked and to do the work Brook encouraged me and other artists to do because he emphasized how much our voices mattered and how much he cared. I am moving forward to know that every word I write, every kindness, every day will be in honor of Brook because that's how he lived.

"Man, you are everywhere!" And Brook is, and he will continue to be everywhere, in our spirit, actions, and art. We miss you, Brook.

#ArtistTherapy: Measuring "Success"

"I don't feel like I've accomplished anything..." Yes, it's that time of the year. End of year review, year in review, summation of goals, whatever you'd like to call it and you start to consider what have you actually done. Especially in terms of your art. Let's call it what it is: pity party time.

Every year I write a list of goals/aims for the next year. This is for me to be accountable and also seems a way to punish myself. I am a checklist person. Someone who needs to be able to scratch things off and then see what's next to tackle. The idea of taking items off a To Do list is nice. Makes me feel productive. But also when looking at the year-round results I see I didn't do as much as I aimed and also took on a bunch more than I'd envisioned.

And there in lies the rub. Events, activities, volunteer work, new ideas, heartbreak, and so on can sneak up on you and derail your goals completely. Yet, you're still accountable for what did and did not happen. And when it comes to your art did you pursue it as heavily as you swore you would on the last days of the year as the clock steadily ticked down to a new year, new month, an anticipated new life? Maybe not.

If the answer veers toward the negative do you consider yourself successful?

The measurements of success are so varied for so many people. I consider success doing what I said I was going to do and being satisfied with the final product. I also consider success getting something I believe in published at a place that understood my goal. I consider success someone enjoying a cookie I developed. I consider success finishing something, anything. I consider success being respected by my peers for what I do know and being open to additional knowledge. See? The scope is wide.

What I am taking away from 2014 are the things that have brought me a better understanding of myself and my work. I am glad for being a part of We Need Diverse Books, for starting a podcast to continue the lack of diversity in publishing/art conversation, I am hopeful that my latest draft of my collection will be done before 2015 is officially here. I am glad for the small wins and consistency of life in being employed. Still being passionate about my work. Having a continuous slew of ideas hit me. Of having my work celebrated with acceptance for a future publication or winning an award that allowed me free attendance to a conference that gave me renewed faith in my work. I am glad for the success of panels and cookie competitions I participated in and for being able to work on my writing even if I didn't make as much time as I had (continually) promised myself. I consider 2014 successful in some areas and not so much in others but that's what the culmination of days helps with. Making sure that you are building towards that bigger goal that overall feeling of success that may not be accomplished with crossing off a task in a day but more so the accumulation of knowledge and heart and passion for the work you are pursuing.

Maybe you want to make a Goal list for next year. Maybe you want to hold yourself accountable day to day. Maybe you want to engage in said pity party and sulk over the "lack" of success you had if there's no agent contract, no book deal, no show in the works. But consider that if you've made progress, that same forward movement we talked about earlier this year that was so easy to stay stagnant in that any steps could be considered a success because we're looking forward, not back.

The #SupportWNDB Campaign! It's All the Rage These Days

Yes, yes, yes. I have been delinquent in posting. Almost a month! My apologies. One of the things that have kept me busy (beyond end-of-the-year deadlines) is the We Need Diverse Books Indiegogo campaign that started October 24th. As a team member and social media person I've been helping on that end and it's been go, go, go!

It's also been fantastic to witness the support online as well as in dollars and donations that people have been providing for their belief that We Need Diverse Books (WNDB)! Being part of the WNDB team has been so great. Everyone is very committed to the belief and pitches in. It's a family as much as it is a team and I am very honored to have been asked to be a part of it after SCBWI. (Thanks, Ilene!)

So what is #SupportWNDB? Where is the money for this campaign going? Well lots of initiatives but focusing on providing grants to emerging writers as well as established diverse writers (there are other diversity grants via SCBWI--which I won last year--and Lee & Low [New Visions & New Voices Awards] as well as the Speculative Literature Foundation) but We Need Diverse Books wants to add to that and not relegate the sole aspects of diversity to people of color.

There's also diversifying classrooms via partnerships with An Open Book Foundation, NEA, and First Book to bring diverse authors for school visits at disadvantaged schools; educational kits for librarians and educators on how to diversify literature offered and dispensed to young readers; in addition to funding the 2016 Diversity Festival we plan to have in Washington, DC! So many things and plans ahead to promote diversity and changing the course of thought for what is considering "mainstream."

As a writer of color this is something I believe in not only in terms of being an emerging diverse artist but being a reader who would've loved to see more diversity in what I read as a kid and clamor for it as an adult no matter what the genre. I very much believe and am happy to give my time and money in #SupportWNDB and I'd urge others to also.

So that's one reason I've been busy and if you'd like to find me I'm more than likely behind the @diversebooks account on Twitter. :o)