The WWS members included in this post published their work in amazing places during January 2024. I’ve included an excerpt from published pieces (if available), along with a link (if available) to where the pieces can be purchased and/or read in their entirety.
Please join me in celebrating our members who published in January 2024!
Continue reading “January 2024 Publication Roundup”
The Association of Writers and Writing Programs (AWP) Conference is next week, and Women Who Submit is here to help you maneuver through the mayhem. If you’re unfamiliar with the AWP conference, it is the largest writers conference in the nation that lasts four days. It’s typically in the winter, and it moves around the country each year. Next year, AWP 2025 will be in Los Angeles! We’re already thinking about what fun event we can do to celebrate.
If you are attending AWP Kansas City, WWS hopes to help you with a list of events from our members as well as from writers, presses, schools, and orgs we love and support. Look through the listing and find the folks you’d like to link up with. My favorite thing to do at AWP is attend a couple of panels featuring my friends. It’s always nice to support your community, and seeing friendly faces at the front of the room is calming. Plus, I know I’ll never be disappointed (there’s a reason they’re my friends).
If the bookfair is where you like to spend your time, be sure to visit Women Who Submit at the Kaya Press table #838. We will be selling copies of our newest anthology TRANSFORMATION, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday from 9am-12pm. Come say hi!
A quick list of dos:
Drink water
Carry snacks
Take breaks outside the convention center
Say yes to invitations to coffee, lunch, or dinner
Support friends
WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 7, 2024
PANEL: Embracing the Body: A Journey of Illness and Celebration
9:00 am to 10:00 am
Virtual
Panelists: Maria Maloney, Carolina Monsiváis, Elisa Garza, Katherine Hoerth, Laura Cesarco Eglin
Description: Throughout our lives, we encounter various health challenges and gender expectations on our bodies that test our physical and emotional well-being. However, there is beauty to be found in celebrating our bodies. This panel of poets shares and discusses poetry of resilience and celebration of our bodies to find meaning and perspective. The panel explores the transformative power of writing that honors the courage it takes to embrace the diversity of our bodies.
This virtual event was prerecorded. It will be available to watch on-demand online starting on Wednesday, February 7, 2024 through Thursday, March 7, 2024.
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 2024
PANEL: Navigating Stormy Waters: Telling your tales when they’re hard to tell
9:00 AM – 10:15 AM
Room 2209, Kansas City Convention Center, Street Level
Panelists: Juanita Mantz, Toni Ann Johnson, Hannah Sward, Nikia Chaney, and Laurie Markvart will read from their work and discuss writing about difficult topics based on themselves and their families.
Description: How do you write your tale with compassion and love when it is a hard story to tell? These five writers will read from their works of memoir and autobiographical fiction touching on their own stories and their family stories of addiction, mental illness, trauma, neglect, and chaos. After, they will talk about how they were able to navigate the choppy waters of truth telling in their books, and how they use their voices for change and to highlight their own stories of redemption and forgiveness.
PANEL: Sin Fronteras: Navigating, Representing, and Publishing Latine Authors
9:00 AM – 10:15 AM
Room 2215A, Kansas City Convention Center, Street Level
Panelists: Viktoria Valenzuela, Cloud Delfina Cardona, Carlos Espinoza, Maria Maloney, Edward Vidaurre
Description: As the United States continues to diversify, state legislatures advance bills that target people of color and the LGBTQ+ community. Publishing is one of the only industries that gives a truer representation of the richly complex Latine populations in the U.S. and their contribution to culture, history, and literary landscape. This panel of independent publishers from the U.S.-Mexico border discusses the importance of publishing Latine, including LGBTQ+ Latine authors in Texas and the U.S..
PANEL: Speaking Mosaics: Hybrid Narratives & the Prism of Identity
9:00 AM – 10:15 AM
Room 2504AB, Kansas City Convention Center, Level 2
Panelists: Marissa Landrigan, Rajiv Mohabir, Monica Prince, Adriana Es Ramirez, Caitlyn Hunter
Description: Accustomed to wielding multiple perspectives, many BIPOC, queer, and neurodivergent writers are drawn to fragmented or hybrid forms: multimodal cross-genre mosaics of personal experience, and cultural, social, political, or natural history. Our panelists work across poetry, performance, nonfiction, and folklore, and will explore the craft and challenges of fragmented forms, offering inspiration and motivation to embrace hybridity as a way to claim space for historically marginalized communities.
BOOK SIGNING: Incantation: Love Poems for Battle Sites (Mouthfeel Press 2023) by Xochitl-Julisa Bermejo
10:00 AM – 11:00 AM
Mouthfeel Press Booth #3021
PANEL: Decolonizing American Literature: The Goals, Challenges, and Strategies of Writers
10:35 AM – 11:50 AM
Room 2502A, Kansas City Convention Center, Level 2
Panelists: GEMINI WAHHAJ, Sehba Sarwar, Oindrila Mukherjee, Namrata Poddar
Description: Four writers will discuss decolonizing American literature through the examples of literary works in the colonial languages of English and French from Black, brown, and Asian writers across the world, as well as literature in Indian languages, including Urdu and Bengali. Panelists will discuss the goals of decolonial anglophone literature and consider the challenges and strategies of writers confronting imperial patterns in American Literature.
PANEL: Getting Non-Writers to Write: Teaching Outside of the English Department
12:10 PM – 1:25 PM
Room 2103A, Kansas City Convention Center, Street Level
Panelists: Melisa Cahnmann-Taylor, Deb Olin Unferth, Elline Lipkin, Mihaela Moscaliuc, and Iris Jamahl Dunkle
Description: “I’m not good at writing,” “I don’t know what to write,” and “My English isn’t good enough”—working with creative writers outside English departments requires shifts in expectations, approaches, and consciousness. This panel gathers those working in a variety of nontraditional settings: libraries, prisons, hospitals, and teacher certification programs. Each panelist addresses challenges they’ve encountered and strategies for success to teach with courage, creativity, and care.
PANEL: Poets Against Walls: An Anthology/Handbook for Writing Past the Checkpoints
1:45 PM – 3:00 PM
Room 2215C, Kansas City Convention Center, Street Level
Panelists: Cesar De Leon, Sehba Sarwar, Emmy Perez, Carolina Monsivais, Celina Gomez
Description: Poets Against Walls anthology/handbook features poetry and hybrid writings from the geopolitical spaces of the borderlands, along with a history of the collective’s social actions, discussions on craft, and writing prompts. In addition to reading short selections of their work and speaking on the value of writing directly about communities under attack, panelists will provide tips and strategies for writing what some may feel dissuaded from in workshop spaces: crafting work for social change.
PANEL: Reproductive Writes: Writing About Reproductive Choice, Loss, and Justice
3:20 PM – 4:35 PM
Room 2105, Kansas City Convention Center, Street Level
Panelists: Jacqui Morton, Erika Meitner, Carla Sameth, Maria Novotny, Robin Silbergleid
Description: How do writers use poetry and nonfiction to explore reproductive choice, health, and loss? What are the unique challenges and risks raised in the act of writing about reproductive topics, including infertility, miscarriage, and abortion? How does the stigma of discussing the intimate emotional and bodily aspects of reproduction carry over to the page? How do these issues change across genre? Writers with a range of experiences and backgrounds will read from their work and engage these issues.
PANEL: To Keep or Not to Keep: Shifting Models in the Post-Pandemic Workshop
3:20 PM – 4:35 PM
Room 2104B, Kansas City Convention Center, Street Level
Panelists: Sarah A Chavez, Ever Jones, Ching-In Chen, Rochelle Hurt
Description: This panel explores inclusive innovations in creative writing workshop learned from remote instruction during the pandemic. Since “getting back to normal,” an assumption has been made that we can and should return to previous pedagogical models. But should we? Has the traditional workshop model successfully served the growing diversity in classrooms? From varied subject positions and range of courses taught, panelists will elaborate on ways that workshop practices can and have shifted toward equity.
READING: TRANSFORMATION: A Women Who Submit Anthology – AWP Release Reading
3:30 PM – 4:30 PM
Kansas City Central Library: 14 West 10th Street Kansas City, MO 64105
Room: “The Vault”
Featuring Lisa Allen (WWS-KC), Xochitl-Julisa Bermejo, Carly Marie DeMento, Toni Ann Johnson, Noriko Nakada, and Nancy Lynée Woo
READING: Host Publications proudly presents “A Feminist Reading at AWP Kansas City’’
7:00 PM – 9:00 PM
BLK + BRWN.: 104 1/2 W 39th St, Kansas City, MO 64111
Featured readers: Stephanie Niu, m. mick powell, mónica teresa ortiz, cloud deflina cardona, Bianca Alyssa Pérez, lily someson, Ae Hee Lee, Jae Nichelle, and Ashley-Devon Williamston.
Description: Host Publications proudly presents “A Feminist Reading at AWP Kansas City’’ featuring nine women & non-binary authors. A special opportunity to celebrate our 2023/2024 chapbooks, threesome in the last Toyota Celica and Survived By at the independently owned Kansas City Bookstore BLK+BRWN.
READING: AWP Offsite Reading with Co•Im•Press, Green Writers Press, Mouthfeel Press, and Noemi Press
7:30 PM – 9:30 PM
Café Corazón: 110 Southwest Blvd
READING: Macondo Open Mic
8:00 PM – 10:00 PM
Mattie Rhodes Cultural Center: 1701 Jarboe St, Kansas City, MO 64108
FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 9, 2024
BOOK SIGNING: Breaking Pattern (Inlandia Books 2023) by Tisha Marie Reichle-Aguilera & Incantation: Love Poems for Battle Sites (Mouthfeel Press 2023) by Xochitl-Julisa Bermejo
10:00 AM – 10:30 AM
Letras Latinas Table #830
PANEL: Should I Just Give Up?
12:10 PM – 1:25 PM
Room 2215A, Kansas City Convention Center, Street Level
Panelists: Michelle Otero, Anel Flores, Xochitl-Julisa Bermejo, Jackie Cuevas, Tisha Marie Reichle-Aguilera
Description: These Chicana/x feminist poets, memoirists, artists, administrators, and professors have invested a collective ninety years on projects that lingered long past their anticipated finish dates. Because we represent communities whose stories might not otherwise be heard, the writing process can be especially daunting. We’ll talk about how we got it done, the communities that supported us, how we handled rejection, how we navigated this long relationship, or how we finally let go and moved on.
BOOK SIGNING: Catastrophic Molting by Amy Shimshon-Santo
1:00 PM – 2:00 PM
FlowerSong Press, Booth #T1051
Panel: Beyond Borderlands: Celebrating Essential Latinx Poetry from Texas Presses
3:20 PM – 4:35 PM
Room 2104B, Kansas City Convention Center, Street Level
Panelists: Xochitl-Julisa Bermejo, Luivette Resto, Adrian Cepeda, Vincent Cooper, and Edward Vidaurre
Description: FlowerSong Press and Mouthfeel Press are just a small representation of the Latinx-owned independent presses creating vibrant work in the Borderlands. Both founded in Texas, these presses publish new, emerging, and established writers who’ve historically gone underrepresented, but whose words hold the power of resilience and transformation. This poetry reading celebrates contemporary Latinx poets and their books of struggle, truth, and hope as a call to elevate diverse voices and spread cultura.
PANEL: Too Small For the Patriarchy: Getting Girlhood Stories Past the Gatekeepers
3:20 PM – 4:35 PM
Room 3501 EF, Kansas City Convention Center, Level 3
Panelists: Chaiti Sen, Toni Ann Johnson, Rose Smith, Magdalena Bartkowska, and Natalia Sylvester
Description: Who has the right to grow up in American literature? On this panel, authors discuss the joys, challenges, and importance of writing and publishing diverse narratives about American girlhoods. Getting these stories past the gatekeepers, who often misunderstand and reject them for being “too quiet” or “too small,” requires courage and persistence. When our own inner critics tell us such stories don’t truly matter, how do we push beyond our doubt and continue writing on a path to publication?
PANEL: Transformation: Creating Change Through Collaboration
3:20 PM – 4:35 PM
Room 2104A, Kansas City Convention Center, Street Level
Panelists: Noriko Nakada, Tisha Marie Reichle-Aguilera, Nikia Chaney, Sarah Rafael Garcia, Ryane Nicole Granados
Description: Inspired by Helena Maria Viramontes’s AWP 2020 keynote address, Women Who Submit’s third anthology, TRANSFORMATION, centers work that speaks to the ways writers and other artists can promote change in the world. By focusing on generosity and collaboration, shared leadership and mentorship, and inclusive partnerships, panelists discuss how Women Who Submit makes this change a reality not just in the writing they publish but in the ways they edit, publish, and promote their writers.
READING: A Dozen Nothing AWP Offsite Reading
5:00 PM – 7:00 PM
Vulpes Bastille: 1737 Locust St, Kansas City, MO 64108
READING: FlowerSong AWP Offsite Reading
6:05 PM
Habitat Contemporary: 2012 Baltimore Avenue
Featured readers: César de León, Amy Shimshon-Santo, Michelle Otero, and Eddie Vega.
Description: Friday, February 9, FlowerSong Press will be teaming up with CavanKerry Press, Acre Books, and Perugia Press for an AWP 2024 offsite reading at Habitat Contemporary. A big shout out to Dimitri Reyes for putting this together.
SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 10, 2024
PANEL: Una Mujer Peligrosa: Celebrating the Queer Work and Life of tatiana de la tierra
9:00 AM – 10:15 AM
Room 2104B, Kansas City Convention Center, Street Level
Panelists: Olga Garcia, Karleen Pendelton Jimenez, Amelia María de la Luz Montes, Myriam Gurba
Description: tatiana de la tierra (1961–2012) was a Latina lesbian writer and trailblazer. In the nineties, she cofounded Esto No Tiene Nombre and Conomoción magazines featuring Latina lesbians in the United States and abroad. She later authored her iconic For the Hard Ones: A Lesbian Phenomenology. In 2022, Redonda y radical: antología poética de tatiana de la tierra was published in Colombia (Sincronía Press). This panel features some of tatiana’s literary coconspirators to discuss her dangerously delicious life and works.
PANEL: Be Gay, Do Crime: Teaching Queer and Trans Poetics in Dangerous Times
10:35 AM – 11:50 AM
Room 2103A, Kansas City Convention Center, Street Level
Panelists: Meg Day, Oliver Bendorf, Donika Kelly, Ching-In Chen, Melissa Crowe
Description: Given our nation’s latest investment in suppressing both bodies and books, what is at stake—newly, historically—in the teaching of queer and trans poetics? Five seasoned poet-educators, working inside the classroom, libraries, and community centers, gather to discuss navigating threats on the poems they teach, the poems they make, and the bodies they occupy as they do both. Panelists will offer experiential commentary and strategies for protecting, generating, and sustaining queer and trans people and poems.
PANEL: Keeping It Lit: Nurturing a Literary Journal Program at Two-Year Colleges
10:35 AM – 11:50 AM
Room 2211, Kansas City Convention Center, Street Level
Panelists: James Ducat, Melissa Ford Lucken, Mary Lannon, Phoebe Reeves
Description: This panel explores ways to shepherd a community college literary magazine with diverse, high-risk, low-income students. Topics of discussion include: staff recruitment, pedagogy, editing, layout, budget, advertising, submissions, course credit, and technological tools. The panelists reflect on obstacles—some common, some unique—and equity-minded solutions. Faculty advisors share experiences producing print and online student journals and fostering a vibrant literary community.
PANEL: Beyond Zoom: Building Vibrant Literary Communities in a New Hybrid Era
12:10 PM – 1:25 PM
Room 2104B, Kansas City Convention Center, Street Level
Panelists: Karina Muñiz-Pagán, Minal Hajratwala, Randy Winston, Maceo Nafisah Cabrera-Estevez, & Juanita E. Mantz (JEM)
Description: Community is essential to a writer’s growth, but what do you do when spaces are inhospitable to your community? Build your own! These innovative authors share how they’ve built thriving programs for diverse NYC fiction writers, global Muslim writers, women/nonbinary writers, domestic workers, and BIPOC+ authors. We share strategies and tools to empower anyone eager to create a nurturing space that centers writers of color, language justice, disability justice, and voices at the intersections.
TABLES & BOOTHS
Antioch University Los Angeles #825
Cave Canem Foundation, Inc. #719
Copper Canyon Press #1223, #1225
Feminist Press #737
FlowerSong Press #T1051
Kaya / Women Who Submit / Blaft #838
Kundiman #1330
Letras Latinas #830
Mouthfeel Press #3021
Noemi Press #1449
Santa Fe Writers Project #3124
Sundress Publications | Sundress Academy for the Arts | Best of the Net Anthology #1111
UCLA Extension Writers Program #831
The WWS members included in this post published their work in amazing places during December 2023. I’ve included an excerpt from published pieces (if available), along with a link (if available) to where the pieces can be purchased and/or read in their entirety.
Please join me in celebrating our members who published in December 2023!
Continue reading “December 2023 Publication Roundup”
By Thea Pueschel
A few weeks ago, I sat at my desk in the Markham cabin at the beautiful Dorland Mountain Arts Colony overlooking the Temecula Valley. I was confident that the words would trickle from my fingertips. They didn’t. Instead, I productively procrastinated and gave the desk lamp a face and christened him Lampé.
Goodbyes can be hard. Clearly, from the found object lamp collage, you can see I was distressed to the point of cubism.
Last year, when Noriko Nakada was passing the baton for Blog Managing Editor, I saw her at a party. She asked me if I was interested and if I thought I’d apply. I vacillated. Was I qualified enough to edit the work of such a great community of talented writers? What direction could I possibly take it? I sent in my letter of intent, went through the interview process. I waited patiently for the news. There were other qualified and talented writers that were interested in becoming the BME. Surely, they wouldn’t pick me, the candidate that lacked editing experience.
I don’t know what tipped the fates in my favor, but I was given the opportunity to run the Intersect series. I cannot express the gratitude I feel for all the writers that were willing and able to trust me with their words, and Xochitl Julissa-Bermejo, and the leadership team for giving me the honor to guide.
The editor/writer relationship is sacred in my mind. It only seems fitting that the final essay that I edited for Intersect was that of Sara Chisolm, an editor for Made in L.A. As editor I had solicited several writers with work I admire, most didn’t submit, but Sara did. I met her at the Vroman’s reading for Made in L.A. Vol. 5: Vantage Points and as we talked about childhood fears of the Night Stalker and the cultural tapestry that is Los Angeles; she made me hungry for her words. A month later, she submitted “Stories Told and Untold in the City of Angels.” After editing the piece, I can still smell the incense and buttery Salvadoran quesadillas.
In my role as editor, I didn’t want to modify voices. I wanted to provide a megaphone for each writer and shine a spotlight in dark corners where I thought their voices could be a little louder. I must commend the authenticity and vulnerability each writer brought to the process. Audrey Harris Fernández floored me with “On Losing a Religion and Finding a Voice,” I too had left a faith and could resonate with the sentiment “For years after leaving… I felt adrift.” I asked her for more Audrey in the piece, and she brought herself forward with ferocity. Stories like this are often untold.
I had the privilege of nominating two writers for the Best of the Web. Gina Duran’s essay “How the Crestline Blizzard Taught me Forgiveness” and Ashton Cynthia Clarke’s “Drapo Vodou Art of Myrlande Constant – Traditional African Religion Meets the Colonizers.” I was lost in the blizzard and felt the ice crystals of frozen snow in my bare hand and heard the squeal of the tracks of the subway on Ashton’s mother’s secret visit the Obeah woman.
I can’t list everyone that I went through this creative evolution with, but you can read all of them here. Each writer left me with the gift of deeper understanding. I’ve worked with several types of editors over the years in various spaces. I learned each time, specifically how I did not want to behave or operate if ever given the seat of editor. I’ve worked with kind editors and cruel ones. When editing I wanted to foster community and exchange, so I met writers where we intersected on the corner of compassion and mutual respect.
What the writers of the Intersect taught me through the editorial process was how to communicate more effectively as an editor, how to create a style guide for fixes to ease the burden of edits, and to set clear boundaries. The latter part, I thought I had already, but it was my first time in this role, and I had to learn to be more specific as time is a commodity and something I have in short supply. They also taught me how to be a better writer. I think all writers should do a stint editing. It shows the world from a new perspective. It shines a spotlight on the dark spaces in one’s own writing.
The curtain is closing on this act, but it will rise again, and I hope to read your words in the future incarnation of the WWS blog under the guidance of the new editor.
Editing is a dance. I feel honored so many writers were willing to partner with me. It is with sadness and excitement I pass the hat on to another to fill the year long position. I am excited to see what direction they take the blog, and plan to submit.
Thea Pueschel is a writer, multimedia artist, and the blog managing editor for the literary nonprofit Women Who Submit and a repeated Dorland Arts Colony Resident. Thea has been published in Short Edítion, Perhappened, and the Made in L.A. Anthology: Vantage Points Volume 5, among others. Thea is known for drinking copious amounts of iced tea, random acts of binge creation, taking people through subconscious journeys and teaching people to make shapes with their bodies.
Writer’s note: Dorland is a beautiful low cost residency. If you would like to go somewhere local that feels off the beaten path, I highly suggest Dorland. I was introduced to this residency through Women Who Submit. Did you know that the Kit Reed Travel Fund offers three $350 awards to BIPOC women & non-binary writers to attend a writing program or residency and that the Zachai cabin is $350/week?
The WWS members included in this post published their work in amazing places during November 2023. I’ve included an excerpt from published pieces (if available), along with a link (if available) to where the pieces can be purchased and/or read in their entirety.
Please join me in celebrating our members who published in November 2023!
Continue reading “November 2023 Publication Roundup”
By Sara Chisolm
Los Angeles residents have always been stereotyped as Hollywood physically fit with a green juice in hand while driving down Rodeo Drive. I do occasionally enjoy a green juice but I don’t make a habit out of frequenting tourists’ traps. I pass the Disney concert hall while on my way to Chinatown, East L.A., Little Tokyo, or mid-city. Away from the glitz of Tinseltown, the heart beat of the city exists. Some Angelenos leave to seek more affordable pastures while others linger in the only place that they will ever call home. Some come from areas torn by war or in search of the American dream. This is a place where dreams are made and broken. Perhaps that is why I write and listen to stories about Angelenos. We thrive in a paradigm of contradictions.
I always remember to pack a pair of shades, water, sunscreen, notepad and pen while canvassing Los Angeles on the public transportation. They’ve extended the train lines, which suits me just fine. I can lumber around Sawtelle taking in the savory aroma of bone broth, dip out and be in Mariachi Plaza to hear a serenade while the glare of the afternoon sun beams down on all of those poor souls stuck on one of the freeways, which resemble parking lots during rush hours. I watch people as they walk down the street, bus tables in restaurants, attend to their children, or sit at the local coffee shop typing away on their computers while sipping on their coffee. I usually choose to write at home but the city and its inhabitants inspire me to step away from my desk and home library.
I yearn for the smell of incense, buttery Salvadoran quesadillas, jasmine, and marinated meats. I can smell all of these things from the crowded streets when I walk down just the right one. I sometimes wonder about the people that I encounter in those brief moments. What is their life like? What do we have in common? What are our differences?
In a place as diverse as Los Angeles, differences are easy to pick out, but it’s the similarities that can make people bond and feel empathy for others. Stories can be a powerful bridge to understanding one another. On occasion, I find myself imagining that the woman in front of the temple with the incense sticks is praying for forgiveness. The man in front of me at the panadoria is buying breakfast for his family. The basketball players whose movements blow the scent of fresh jasmine onto the street might be worried about their upcoming finals. The cook in the taco truck is wondering how he’s going to make ends meet this month. I don’t know their stories, but I know that we are alike in some ways, and that thought alone makes me take out my notepad.
I sometimes jot down a few notes and ask a few questions here and there. Occasionally, the answers yield more questions that will go without a response. I try to understand people who may have vast differences from me by researching certain topics related to their experiences.
Spending hours in a library conducting research on history, culture, and language is helpful to my writing. I‘d be a liar if I didn’t admit that the mildew smell of used books is a comfort for me. Going to a library is like coming home. My research doesn’t address all of the questions that I have from talking to people. There are times when emotions and the past guide reactions. Feelings can be difficult to explain or even comprehend. Who knows why one motorist will roll down their window and cuss at another person for cutting them off on the freeway while another one won’t even bother. Emotions about situations are a reflection of the past.
I’ve drawn the conclusion that to live here, one has to admit how much and how very little they know about the city’s residents. Although the differences between us can be numerous, we can always offer empathy. I listen with compassion and gain an insight that I would never have acquired had I not spoken to my fellow Angelenos. These life lessons help me in my day-to-day tasks as well as in my writing.
I ran into someone carrying a power tool on the bus. His eyes lit up when he saw the name of the school that I work for emblazoned across my chest in huge white letters on a fire hydrant red t-shirt. He asked if I was a teacher and what subject I taught. When I told him I work with small children, he told me stories about his daughters that ended with him instructing me on how to use a power drill. I sometimes think of him when I write stories about families. That twinkle in his eyes reflects the same starry gaze that I have when I reminisce about my own little “knuckleheads.” Our astronomically different lifestyles bear resemblance as we connect over children and unfinished projects in my apartment. I learn a fair amount about myself while talking to others. Their experiences guide me.
The most prolific life lessons that I have had through stories comes from the families that I work with as a preschool teacher. I used to work for non-profit organizations in areas that experienced frequent gang activity, poverty, and violent crime. The parents told me stories about being refugees, being harassed by cops, not having enough resources for their children. I had to take notes as I devised a way to best help with their children’s needs.
We are people of color, dark skinned and historically marginalized. I saw a bit of myself reflected in their appearance. We shared the same spaces. I visited the same grocery stores, restaurants, and walked down the same streets. In those instances, I become a part of a community story. We would vibe about the store clerk who always picked their nose when they thought that no one is looking. Complain about the higher prices at our favorite heladeria.
I grew up in an all-American suburban town in the San Gabriel valley. Just another pissed off teen in A.P. English writing poetry and journaling. My parents were able to provide a decent living for me and my little brother. While growing up, I didn’t have the same barriers to resources as my students’ families. Learning about life experiences that differ from mine expands my understanding and awareness of the human condition. This fact makes their stories resonate with me. I don’t focus on writing stories that reflect life experiences that are solely my own. A good book makes the reader relate to the characters in some way. A great book will make you emotionally invested in the characters. I am a speculative fiction writer. My aim is to intrigue readers by creating relatable characters in imaginative moments that no one on this good green earth has experienced.
My favorite books growing up were fairy tales or what I would dub as “whimsical flights of fantasy.” My writing reflects my earlier reading choices, but with a sprinkle of darkness and culture. My plot lines used to rack up body counts as if I was playing a video game. I’ve slightly amended my ways and began to focus more on relationships between characters without the climactic death scenes. Some life situations are just as stressful as being torn limb from limb by zombies. Maybe I’ve changed. Motherhood has become a prominent theme in my stories. Exploring folklore from around the world has taken root in my fiction. Fairy tales where Angelenos reside in conflict. Not every story has to have a happy ending, but it always has to end.
The stories that my past students’ families told me were also full of hope. In a city brimming with dreams, hope is contagious. There’s always a chance for a better tomorrow. At the end of the year, the center that I used to work for hosts a pre-kindergarten graduation. Folks filled up the auditorium while clutching balloons, bouquets, and stuffed animals. Some people have to stand because there aren’t enough chairs. The children perform a few songs, dawn graduation caps, and eat over frosted pieces of white sheet cake. The families shifted together. The metal folding chairs were scattered against the wall to make room for the adults’ latest gossip. An older cousin just graduated high school or college. A father just opened his own small business. A mother is expecting a new addition to the family. We share sorrow and rejoice in triumphs.
The last graduation that I attended at the center was a type of farewell ceremony for me as well. By the end of the week, I’d be starting at a new center. The preschool that I was starting at had raised beds for gardening, several fenced in play yards, and a beautiful interconnecting bike path. Outdoor play would be very different from the scenes of police brutality reenacted by my past students. When I told the families that I was close with that I was switching schools and that the new school would serve wealthy families, they rolled their eyes or gave me menacing looks. They were pissed off that I could leave them to serve families that had their pick of great teachers. I politely sympathized and took their outrage and disgust as a complement to my care of their children and teaching abilities.
Everyone faces challenges in life, although the challenges of the new families that I would be serving might be different, they were still plagued with their own obstacles in life. I couldn’t help but question my decision to leave the center for a more privileged population though. The choice to leave the center was not made light-heartedly. I wanted to stay because I had fostered relationships with the families, but ultimately my desire for new challenges and experiences had won out.
I occasionally run into my old students and people in the community that I once served. Our paths intersect when I stop by my favorite restaurants or bakeries in the area. We embrace, talk, and laugh about the old times. Tears come to the corners of our eyes while remnants of our bond bring back once forgotten feelings. Sometimes when I say goodbye, I can feel their resentments in their hugs or handshakes. Other times, I feel their affection and sorrow. As Angelenos, we bring meaning to each other’s lives in our everyday encounters. Stories told and untold about our differences and similarities. Tall tales that seem like legends among the temples, taco trucks, coffee shops, skyscrapers, and congested freeways.
In a city as crowded and spread out as L.A. you can marvel in her diversity. Draw strength from it. The promise of a better future draws people from different walks of life to this city. No matter what, there is always a tomorrow and another story to write.
Sara Chisolm is a speculative fiction writer based in the Los Angeles area. Her urban fantasy short stories “Serenade of the Gangsta,” “The Fortune of the Three and the Kabuki Mask,” and “We Found Love as the Undead,” were featured in the second and third volumes of the Made in L.A. fiction anthology series. Sara has co-edited for the third, fourth, and fifth books for the annual Made In L.A. anthology.
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by Tsahai Makeda
I was coming off of a weeklong high at one of the nation’s most prolific writers’ retreats and heading home, when I found myself grounded for an extra day in Columbus, Ohio. The airline I booked my travel with had reneged on their promise to get me back to New York safely–THRICE. Everything is by divine design though, because had it not been for those canceled flights, I would not have found myself in an Uber, on a rainy Saturday afternoon, headed to the main library in downtown Columbus. It was the library’s 150th anniversary, and it culminated in the Columbus Bookfest that was packed with readers, writers, books, craft talks and coffee. A writer’s oasis. I decided to close my impromptu day perusing the bookstore the library created on the second floor, filled with all the works of the authors present for the Bookfest. In the sea of covers and spines, a book grabbed me.
Ripe by Negesti Kaudo, the cover art is an illuminous majesty of work, rich and full with dynamic colors; bold, loud, beautiful. Plump lips covered in shimmering gold and bronze lipstick with the book’s title neatly placed across the center of the mouth. The cover screamed out to me, this book is rich! It is. This collection of essays is the author’s impeccable debut that explores race from a variety of intersections that all lead to what it means to her to be a Black woman in America.
Consider the invitation into the collection–the title, Ripe. When we hear that word, instinctively, fruit comes to mind. So it is in this body of work, the exploration of what it means to take up space–to be full of such goodness and sweetness on the inside (Flesh); to have to be hard and tough externally to protect that goodness (Rind); to know the origins of how you came to be and what you can and will become (Seed). To quote Kaudo’s dedication, this book is, “…for every other Black girl who learned to bloom in the dark.”
The collection of twenty-seven essays delivered to the reader using hybrid as form in some pieces, and divided into three sections, “Rind,” “Flesh,” “Seed,” explores race and culture from a most intimate and detailed perspective. The language is sharp. The images, vibrant. Still, this collection raises questions in the reader that Kaudo makes every attempt to answer through an exploration of self. It’s a look at the author’s experiences, nuances, and emotions and how these culminated into the woman she is and the woman she will come to be. It is also a recognition that the world often does not see her in the way she sees herself; often doesn’t see any Black woman’s depth and magnificence.
The opening essay, “Marginalia,” (a title which Kaudo uses twice more in the collection in different context and content) is to prepare the reader for the ride they are about to willingly take. Should apprehension about the collection’s subject matter swell inside you, that is dispelled by the end of the first page. Kaudo’s style of posing the intellectual question and then giving both example and answer in prose is dynamic. “When do children recognize race? When do children begin to point out that another child is an other? In the second grade, a Jewish girl’s parents told her I was ghetto. Later, in fifth grade, another black girl and I read a page in our social studies textbook over and over because it said that during the Holocaust, Jewish people were forced into ghettos. We said, ‘They can’t possibly mean our ghetto.’ They didn’t.” This starting point places us in the margins with the author, with her Blackness. It is beautiful and sweeping; little morsels of her life where she began to see herself the way the world saw her.
The definition of rind is a thick and firm outer coat or covering. In this first section of the book, “Rind,” the essays explore what it really means for a Black woman to have to default to tough skin because society defaults the Black woman to a trope; angry. In “Ether,” Kaudo provokes the thought of whether or not we, Black women, play into the trope or is it that the trope creates the space for us to be apprehensive about feeling our feelings and subsequently expressing them . “A blackout rage is like an orgasm of anger–the buildup sucks, but the release is great.” She posits, “Sometimes I’m angry, sometimes I’m sad, but mostly I wish my emotions could be disconnected from the fact that I am Black and a woman.” Having to navigate white supremacy on a daily basis in macro and micro doses leaves a trail of rage that is oftentimes masked by silence for fear of laying into a stereotype that society has nursed and fed and pampered. Black women not only have to be aware of who they are but simultaneously must leather our skins in order to manage the daggers that come our way. Every day. “Some people deserve to feel the ether. But I swallow it and walk away.”
I too have had to quiet my anger and laugh off disrespect in spaces where folks absolutely deserved my full wrath. It is a bitter morsel to have to swallow. “How to Steal a Culture” looks at blackness and whiteness through a lens of intimacy while playing with form; it is a ‘how-to’. “Always make sure to remind her of her body. Chances are, you’re smaller than her in the hips or breasts, so offering to share clothes can be both a compliment and an insult–a way to spin your superiority as inferiority.” It’s an exposing of a poison that seems to be consistently sprayed on Blackness in an effort to prevent its bloom. Kaudo presents the duality of desiring to be the very thing that you oppress while actively oppressing it.
Her skill when it comes to form is apparent in “UnBothered-A Microaggression.” This has to be my favorite piece in the collection while simultaneously enraging and making me sad. It is charged and electric and dazzles. It also punches and slaps. The form in this piece takes its shape when the phrase, “And when it happens, it won’t sit right with you. You’ll feel a pang in your chest, and you won’t be sure if it’s anger or sadness. you‘ll have three options: fight, flight, or—”, precedes an instance of microaggression. These are layers of a cake filled with catastrophe, disappointment, the unimaginable, and then frosted with exhaustion. “My friend and I are discussing blackness: oppression, lack of history, no place. Our brown friend wants to join the conversation, but becomes frustrated when we say it is not his place, he has no authority. He looks at the two of us with a smirk and says: ‘Raise your hand if you’ve been to Africa.’ He puts both hands up.” The repetition of the phrase that carries through the piece is an expertly crafted catalyst for the rise of emotions that Kaudo is giving us through the multiple experiences. Thirteen to be exact. These moments occur to Black people across the globe, but specifically here in America, at an astounding rate of societal norm. It begs the question, how and what do we do to fix it? And though the question may be a reach, living it is tiring.
Flesh is defined as the soft substance of a human consisting of muscle and fatty tissue. It is the pulpy portion of a fruit. The weighted part of a being. It is typically the parts of ourselves that we pay the most attention to or otherwise, neglect. The pieces in this second section of the book, “Flesh,” promote loving ourselves; our hair, our bodies, our skin, our complexion, our tone of voice, our size, our curves, our fullness of being—in spite of society telling us that there is no value or worth in the aforementioned as it pertains to Black women.
“Black Girl Sabbath” is an homage to what caring for ourselves as practice, as ritual, should be, but still remembering and then reconciling with the ways in which something as basically human as our hair can be rooted in oppression. Kaudo gives us weighted strokes of history while coloring our minds with a kaleidoscope of beauty and wonder as it pertains to hair. “Cosmopolitan published an article about how to have kinky hair…by using a crimping iron. This is one of the moments where white audiences and black vernacular don’t mix.” Kaudo expands on the dance between cultural reference and the use of language and how it wholly negates how a specific culture and/or race of people identify with said reference. Not so much baffling as it is disheartening.
A seed is the germ or propagative source of anything. The beginning. In this final section of the book, “Seed,” we come to understand the depth and range that this body of work encompasses. It is tenderly and carefully woven to give the reader a full view of the tapestry that is Kaudo’s life, elements and pieces of her to swallow whole.
In the essay that the book is titled for, “Ripe,” we go with Kaudo as she experiences a quarter-life crisis and meets the world, in real time, when she comes to the understanding that she is wholly responsible for her own self. There is a caveat. Blackness. Blackness in America. Womanhood. Womanhood in America. Black Womanhood in America.
Kaudo’s use of lyric and prose to explore race, culture, and identity across a host of intersections, but specifically and profoundly as a Black woman in America, is compelling. If you’ve ever felt unseen, unheard, under-appreciated, or under-valued at any juncture in your life’s journey, this read is for you. But if you also want to curb your biases and understand what it means to live a life unlike your own, this read is also for you. Packed with insight, imagery, and a powerful use of language, Ripe, will leave your intellectual palette satisfied.
Tsahai Makeda is a Hudson Valley based writer with an MFA from Sarah Lawrence College. She’s received support for her work from The Kenyon Review Writers Retreat and The Center for Black Fiction Wild Seed Writers Retreat. Her work appears in Killens Review of Arts & Letters, Epiphany, Breadcrumbs, & REWRITE London.
by Jesi Vega
Before I found my way to leading writing and story workshops, I’d already spent several years facilitating in the domains of personal growth and spirituality. During that time, I worked with students from a range of backgrounds but, thanks to their ability to invest time and money into their own transformation, a majority of them were affluent white women. I grew fatigued. As a mixed Latina from a historically disadvantaged community, the contexts of race, difference, and economic inequality through which I interpreted the world were mere blips in their consciousness; unless I began to augment my existing curricula with the kinds of DEI and social justice content I cared about, I knew that I’d remain unsatisfied.
When I shifted my focus to the realms of writing and storytelling, I took what felt like a huge leap of faith; I decided to work primarily with people of the Global Majority. I did this not only because I was seeking students whose perspectives and values were more closely aligned with my own, but because I wanted to create spaces which centered writers who are routinely marginalized in predominantly white classroom environments. Since then, I’ve led workshops to immigrants and first gen Americans, Black, Latina, Asian, and Indigenous women, and a growing number who, like me, identify as “mixed.” Among these writers, I’ve found a shared vocabulary of experience and perception that was lacking among my white students and, rather than drained, I feel energized from supporting the development of stories that have potential to upend the status quo.
Prior to making this shift, I’d already sought to create workshop settings that supported diversity and individuality but, when I added creative writing to the mix, I began to think about this more intentionally.
Thinking deeply about what had been missing from my learning experiences, I set out to design the kind of environment I’d yearned for but never had: one in which a white male mindset wasn’t the default, white male aesthetics weren’t the ideal, and explorations of gender equity weren’t limited to white feminism.
Growing up Puerto Rican and Jewish in the Bronx, all the teachers I’d ever had, with the exception of my 11th grade trigonometry teacher, were white. Nevertheless, I was always on the lookout for creative role models whose backgrounds reflected my own and I was always disappointed; just as I was disappointed in my desire for books and films, which affirmed my identity and my community. With little else to choose from, as a teenager I sought to emulate the work and craft of mostly white men. Later, at college, I worked closely with my advisor who was a kindhearted Henry Fonda type from Kansas. Though he encouraged my attempts as a playwright and screenwriter, he couldn’t provide the guidance. I longed for.
My challenges were so unlike the ones he’d faced that he could sympathize with me but couldn’t advise me. By the time I graduated, I’d decided not only to become a filmmaker whose work would validate the experiences of other little girls from marginalized communities, but one they could turn to as a mentor and role model.
Once in Hollywood, I honed my craft in screenwriting programs, eager to write the kinds of stories I dreamed of seeing. I wrote a magical realist coming of age story, a Sci-Fi adventure with a biracial heroine, and a noir script about Caribbean colonization. While both peers and instructors recognized their potential, my continued lack of guidance left those stories underdeveloped. And though those same readers regarded my background and settings as colorful, none could help me unravel their complexities or embed them meaningfully into my work. Despite my best intentions, I’d fully absorbed the message that my viewpoint didn’t matter in a white-centered world, and I found myself stuck, my capacity to develop an authentic authorial voice stunted.
Despite these difficulties, I still enjoyed the writing process and valued the emphasis my instructors put on narrative structure. Hoping that technical excellence would compensate for my struggles to be authentic, I devoted myself to mastering it. As had been true in my entire life, my instructors were all white men and, like my college advisor, they were generally kind. To quote Joy Castro’s “Racial and Ethnic Justice in the Creative Writing Course essay, “I was never mistreated,” but I remained unmentored.
During this period, I didn’t meet a single Latina screenwriter, never mind a Jewish-Latina one. Finally– creatively and mentally spent – I hit rock bottom. Burnt out after eight years, I broke down in my therapist’s office; I’d forgotten what, and why, I’d wanted to write in the first place. It was not long after that tearful confession that I stopped writing, let go of my dreams, and began considering a different future.
When a friend recommended that the local Arts High School hire me as a creative writing teacher, I found myself standing in front of a classroom.
Now on the other side of the divide, I knew what was at stake for my students from marginalized backgrounds. I decided that my classroom would not only be a place for learning craft but a place where writers could develop a strong sense of self and the confidence to tell the truth.
In his essay “On Teaching Writers of Color,” Bill Cheng writes that the best workshop leaders make their students feel that they are invested in their work; “they don’t just nurture nascent talent,” he says of such teachers, “they build relationships…they are open and honest not only about their hopes and ambitions but also their failures and their insecurities.” As an instructor who took a long and winding road to teaching, that is the only thing I can do.
After five years, the classroom environment I create is informed by a range of influences that go beyond the places where I learned to write and includes sacred spaces in which I experienced personal transformation and healing from my writing trauma. In the classroom, I make the following promises to myself:
Imbued through all of this is respect for the writer’s vulnerability and faith that mindful support and mentorship can transform writing that is adequate into writing that sings with its author’s true voice.
For further inspiration, see The Macondo Writers Compassionate Code of Conduct.
Jesi Vega is a Puerto Rican-Jew, a Bronx native, and a graduate of the University of Chicago Divinity School. Based in Tacoma, WA, she leads storytelling workshops and provides editorial support for traditionally underrepresented writers. Her work draws on extensive knowledge of personal development modalities, film, theater, nonfiction, and tarot.
The WWS members included in this post published their work in amazing places during October 2023. I’ve included an excerpt from published pieces (if available), along with a link (if available) to where the pieces can be purchased and/or read in their entirety.
Please join me in celebrating our members who published in October 2023!
Continue reading “October 2023 Publication Roundup”