12.30.2020

A Quiet 2020 Blog Review

It's almost here, the end of 2020 which once held the optimism of this whole new decade, right? But what... what in the world happened? 

a group of multiracial people celebrate 2020
When 2020 held so much promise.

To be honest, 2020 feels like a decade all on it's own. I haven't written much here or elsewhere during the past twelve months, but it is what it is. 2020 has helped remind me to let go of things I can't control, and I control very little. 

I'm also done using capitalistic measures to quantify success. Instead of thinking that growth and profit are required indicators of success, I'm more interested in sustainability measures. So rather than looking at reads and site visits as indicators of accomplishment, I also want to consider writing I feel proud of or that helped build community. I know my words are reaching people, so I'm calling this year sustainably successful. 

I posted to this blog six times, but a few post from before this year continue to generate significant traffic, so I'll take some time to revisit those as well in this year review:

A few days ago I shared my publications for 2020. I appreciated the communities that developed around anthologies and was so honored to have CNF, poetry, and fiction anthologized this year. This post also has links to videos of my work and these are a first for me. Reading in public is not my favorite so creating recordings and participating in virtual readings and discussions were huge areas of growth for me. 

I also shared my year of reading which includes many great titles. I'll choose a favorite from each genre just for fun, and if you need more to read, check out last year's list of favorites

Fiction: Nickle Boys by Colson Whitehead
Nonfiction: Just Mercy by Bryan Stephenson
Poetry: OBIT by Victoria Change
Graphic Novel: Pilu of the Woods by Mai K. Nguyen
YA: Hearts Unbroken by Cynthia Leicht Smith

My annual culmination addresses still get visits and the addresses from 2017, 2018, and 2019 garnered reads this year, but the 2020 address got the most reads of all my posts this year. 

At the start of this year, I wrote about the one-year anniversary of our UTLA Strike for the schools our students deserve and about the night before the strike. The actions we took two years ago have kept teachers, students, and families safe during this year. Even though we are all anxious to get back to school in-person, our decision to stay home has saved lives. In case you still weren't sure: strikes work. 

In the face of white supremacy in 2017, I asked for help in this post and many readers returned to it in the face of white supremacy in 2020. 

At the start of the school year, I wrote again about the first day of school, and how this year would be the same and also very different. 

But my top post this year was originally published here in 2017 and captures the Nakada experience with incarceration during World War II. Seeing this as the top post for the year serves as motivation to keep revising Rice Paper Superheroes, my young adult novel about the Nakamura family's wartime experience. 

That's it. Thanks for reading along and wish y'all a safe, healthy, and happy new year. 

12.28.2020

2020: the year in books

I thought I was going to read so much during the lockdown, but to my surprise, the stacks and stacks of books to read kept growing higher and higher. Still, I read and these are the books that got me through 2020. I recommend them all.

pre-pandemic reads: 

In the early days of 2020, I read Jami Attenberg's novel, All This Could Be Yours. It is the story of the Tuchman family during the last days of the patriarch's life. Layers of the Tuchman story are revealed in shifting narrative chapters, and it was nice to escape into a different family's upsetting problems for a while. 

My niece recommended Just Mercy by Bryan Stephenson, and moving forward I will use this book in my classroom instead of To Kill A Mockingbird to discuss race and justice in America. With a variety of cases, Stephenson gives face to those hidden from us, incarcerated for being poor, Black, young, female, and vulnerable. His knowledge and use of the law to change the system inspires us all to end the death penalty and find redemption for ourselves and for those behind bars. 

Internment by Samira Ahmed is a young adult book set in a not-so-distant future when Muslims are incarcerated in camps like the Japanese Americans were during World War II. The plot is strong and for young people unfamiliar with our nation's history of internment, this is a good place to start. 

I listened to Colson Whitehead's Nickle Boys by while marathon training and the abuse and racism of this place left me squirming. A fictionalized account of the Dozier School for Boys in Florida where young men picked up for nothing are brought to their knees by a system designed to kill them. These haunting stories stayed with me much like the ones in Whitehead's The Underground Railroad

Then, in March, we went into lockdown and these were the books of the spring. 

Attendance by Rocio Carlos and Rachel McLeod are poems and journals reminding me to stay paying attention to the world. Poems of women and of the day to day life of writers. 


Long Live the Tribe of Fatherless Girls
by T Kira Madden is a beautiful, haunting memoir from Florida in the 80s and 90s and then brought into the 2000s. Her coming of age in a family, multiracial like myself, but ravaged by addiction and secrets is how I’ll remember April of 2020. 

Kiara demanded to read Pilu of the Woods by Mai K. Nguyen after I sent her and her brother to their rooms one evening. “It’s about feelings. I think you might like it,” she said, and I did. The illustrations are beautiful and the magical realism of this girl stumbling upon a fairy-creature in the woods allowed Kiara and I to have rich conversations about feelings of love and loss. 

Obit by Victoria Chang   These beautiful narrow columns of poem reframe grief and loss. There are so many exquisite lines and new ways of thinking about our parents and letting go of them. Then there are these small poems, little reprieves, sips that allow a break from loss but still sit right next to the grief.  

Pride by Ibi Zoboi is a Bushwick retelling of Pride and Prejudice examining race, class, and re-gentrification. It stays true to the Austen classic in that it is a love story, but also a commentary on what young women experience as they determine their futures in America.

The vignettes in Carmen Maria Machado's In the Dream House unfold over time like a complicated piece of origami with careful creases made across many years. The author looks back on a relationship brimming with abuse, and hopes to smooth the paper and examine how each fold brought her to the end and to find love again. 

Linked short stories in Once Removed by Colette Sartor capture moments in women's lives filled with

texture and tension. Sartor deftly drops us into the lives of fully-rendered characters and asks us to hang out. We spend a few days with women seeking solutions within themselves and from the world. I haven't read a story collection that kept me this engaged in a very long time.

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong is a letter to the narrator's mother. It travels from Vietnam, flashes back to wartime and then forward through the narrator’s (Little Dog) young adult life. There are so many beautiful sentences and haunting moments but my favorite is: “Again and again, I write to you regretting my tongue.” It’s amazing how well he captures the inadequacies of language.

On the Come Up by Angie Thomas was such a good YA book to read post as we grappled with the role of police in our schools and in our world. Thomas captures a young woman coming of age struggling with her identity and artistry within a climate that is so harsh toward her as a Black girl.

Hearts Unbroken by Cynthia Leitch Smith is another YA novel narrated by a young Native woman, new to her Kansas suburb and exploring who she is as a partner, a writer, and a Native woman. I learned about Frank Baum’s racist anti-Native stances which further complicates the idea of there being no place like home.

These are the poetry collections/chapbooks I read as part of the Seeley Challenge this year. I vow to spend even more time with poetry in 2021:

bone by Yrsa Daley-Ward
be/trouble by Bridgette Bianca
Postcolonial Love Poem by Natalie Diaz
Love, Love by Victoria Chang
Unaccompanied by Javier Zamora
How to Exterminate a Black Woman by Monica Prince
For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide/When the Rainbow is Enuf by Ntozake Solange
The Long Clot of Love by Lituo Huang
Heart Like a Window, Mouth Like a Cliff by Sara Borjas 
Death By Sex Machine by Franny Choi
The Blvd. by Jenise Miller
HOMIE by Danez Smith

If I thought the beginning of the pandemic was tough on reads, the end of 2020 brought my reading to a near halt. 

Never Look Back
by Liliam Rivera is a retelling of the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice set in the Bronx. I love these characters and the ways Rivera blends love and politics and the ancient and the modern. 

The Warmth of Other Suns by Isabel Wilkerson Ok, listening to this epic work of nonfiction over the last few months of quarantine should maybe count as more than one book. I learned so much about the great migration across decades from south to the rest of the US. What a triumph of research and narrative. Mom wanted me to read this. It was one of her last recommendations to me and I’m so glad I finally got to it. 

The Book of Delights by Ross Gay This is another book, a little like Attendance that started the year, that I'm reading in sips for a long while. Another great reminder of how to stay aware of the ways we're seeing the world. 

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, Chamber of Secrets, Prisoner of Azkaban by JK Rowling Reading these again but this time with the kid. 

And that is my year in books: 

12.22.2020

Publications in 2020: A Year of Anthologies and Virtual Readings

This year has been many things, but for me as a writer, it's been a year of anthologies and recorded readings. 

First is the ACCOLADES: A Women Who Submit Anthology which included my poem, "Camp Stories," originally published in Kartika. This anthology launched at AWP in San Antonio in March. I had my flight and housing booked, was ready to go, but with the news of COVID accelerating, I cancelled my plans to go. The anthology launched beautifully in my absence and I even recorded an IG reading of the poem. 

Next up was Mom Egg Review's "Home" edition which took on new meaning as we spent so much time around the house this year. This essay, "At Home in America" is actually about a trip to Oregon and driving around in circles in Sunriver and thinking about what Bend means to me, my family, and the next generation. I read this one for MER's virtual reading as well. 

A short story and my only fiction publication this year was "Infamy" for Made In LA: Volume III: The Art of Transformation. This community came together in ZOOM spaces several times in 2020 during a launch party and a discussion of book stores and beaches with Small World Books in Venice. 

Wrapping up my 2020 year of anthologies was my poem "Instructions for Surviving a Modern Pandemic" which appears this beautiful Alternative Field publication In Isolation: an anthology

I had a couple of essays come out this year as well. "California" an essay excerpted from Through Eyes Like Mine, was published by Nasiona for their section on being mixed race. "Vegas Indulgences," as essay about proportion and sexual assault in a place where the scale of everything is off appeared this spring in Lady Liberty Lit

As the pandemic kept us all home, the other essays I published this year involved the passage of time, our evolving communities, and writing through hard times. "A Meditation On Time" and "Writing Through Despair" appeared in Women Who Submit's Breathe and Push column and "Community in the Time of COVID" was published in Cultural Weekly. 

I had the opportunity to participate in the Deschutes Public Libraries' Know Us series by. speaking about growing up multiracial in Central Oregon. You can view my conversation with Liz Goodrich on youtube. 

Other poems published this year include: "How Do We Count Our Dead?" in Bitter Melon Poetry's Stay Home Diary, and "Meditation on the Morning Spent at the Soccer Field" and "Family Haiku" both in Tiger Moth Review's Issue 4

Thanks to all the readers, editors, and publishers who worked hard to continue to bring art forward during such trying times. I am so honored to share my thoughts and stories with you all.