I preface this by saying I have to remember that Fall is my favorite season because of the beauty of the trees changing, the cool walking weather, and the smell of burning firewood, and that it's not about the utter destruction it causes to my health. I've been coughing for about 24 hours, and I want to lie down until I stop.
So, I remembered today is Tuesday, and I thought, "I really don't want to blog a thing...like ever again." This is, first off, typical of me. I start something with gusto and eventually get tired of it. It's most likely my topics. I realize I almost don't even talk about writing, so maybe I should work on that, because, you know, WRITE Mage. Maybe I need to shift my blog focus. Is it LG Keltner who does flash fiction posts? Maybe I can start that, get my head back in the game. So if I disappear in November/December (except on 1st Wednesdays), that is most likely what I'm doing. Also, be prepared if my posts become sporadic for the rest of the month.
This next piece is sponsored by the latest controversy of verbal diarrhea from Raven-Symoné and "ghetto names." While even as a black girl born in the mid 80s, I cringe at some of the names I hear around me and have often called them made up. Someone on Youtube once said to me, "All names are made up," and I didn't have a valid argument for that, so I didn't respond. My and many parents born in the 50s/60s (and were given "normal" names) also groan when they see the names parents born in the 70s/80s have named their children. And while some names are just plain unforgivable (did you ever hear of the mom complaining that the teachers couldn't pronounce her daughter's name La-a, pronounced LaDASHa? *scowl*), I understand that some people are trying to either be unique or reach back to an Africa they never had the chance to experience. For instance, my classmate Nyeisha, who has always hated her name, learned that Nye is Swedish for "truly golden" (and one of her middle names actually IS Golden), and Isha is Hebrew for "woman" and Indian for "protector/lord". Even if her mom didn't mean to do that, I think that's pretty powerful.
Nyeisha also shared this poem by a young woman whose name I imagine is spelled Shakandria (shu KAHN dree uh). If you have a Facebook, search Cassandra Whitlock McClary, who posted the poem. It even made me think twice about cringing at some names. Also, there's a writing project in the back of my head featuring warrior sisters, and maybe, just maybe, to help empower little girls out there whose names don't sound like my Hebrew first name, French middle name, British last name, that they can be great with something as simple as having MCs with names like theirs.
Greetings
- Debra Renée Byrd
- Delaware, United States
- Deborah Hawkins, penned Debra Renée Byrd, began writing after a blank book project in elementary school and never stopped, fashioning stories based on her favorite TV shows and movies before creating more original works. She studied at the University of the Arts and Florida State University before settling down and graduating from Temple University. She now resides in her hometown of Dover, DE, where she spends most of her time at work or at church. She loves fantasies, superheroes, is a trekkie and a brown coat. She loves television and lives for Final Fantasy video games, having collected most of them. She has read a myriad of authors, and her favorite authors change whenever she finds a new book that changes her life... "When you can't run, you crawl. When you can't crawl...well, you know the rest." -Tracey, Firefly, "The Message"
Showing posts with label diversity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label diversity. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 13, 2015
Monday, August 31, 2015
Big Five, Sign On!
Hello!
What? Isn't it Monday? Why, yes, yes it is!
There are two things going on today. One is the Twitter push for the Big Five Publishers to be open about their diversity statistics via the Diversity Baseline Survey.
For the original tweet and petition from Lee&Low, click here.
Click here for more information about it from my writing pal SC.
So far, only Macmillan has signed the petition. If you've followed the #WriteInclusively or #WeNeedDiverseBooks hashtags, you'll understand the importance of having a diverse staff controlling what gets published.
As a child, there are only two stories I can remember reading that featured a young black girl. One was a book called Corduroy, about a teddy bear who wants to be sold, but the mother of the little girl who wants him says no because he's missing a button. The little girl is black, and I used to pretend that she was me.
The other book was an American Girl book for Addy, a slave girl in 1864. There have been many American Girls since Addy, but only one other that was a little black girl from 1850*, who wasn't a standalone character and was archived. The majority of the currently active dolls are not only white (6 of the 9), but little blonde girls (4 of the 6). Not only that, they archived Felicity, Kirsten, and Molly! (These were my three favorite girls.) No offense to the other little girls whom I haven't read as I aged out of interest in the stories, but these three were extremely diverse on the surface level alone. Felicity was a redhead who dared to put on pants in the 1770s; Kirsten was a Swedish immigrant; and Molly was the girl-next-door tomboy.
*Reading more on Cécile Rey, the other black American Girl, while I'm sure her character was whimsical, she seemed to be a pretty stereotypical black character. Paraphrase: Confident, curious, and loving the limelight, her lessons bored her, and she wanted to become an actress and loved to party. Hm...
And after 1864, where are the black American Girls? After 1824 where are the other American Girls of Color? Skimming through, I see Julie has a Chinese-American friend whose collection was archived in 2014. Can you imagine the interest the company could generate if they gave us, say, a black American Doll from 1958? Is that too hard a period to write about from that perspective? I know there is a glamorization of the time period because of the fashion and classiness, so maybe they just...I don't know.
And this is why it's important for people to mean what they say when they say they need diverse books. That also means you need to not only have people who advocate for diversity, but people who ARE diverse. They'll see those gems that the majority just might not feel are "right for them." They have a fresh take, a different eye. So I'm hoping the other 4 of the Big 5 will take a stand and follow suit.
Oh, by the way, this is a blog hop, so if you want to join in, scroll back up and click on SC's post to find the LinkyLink. :)
What? Isn't it Monday? Why, yes, yes it is!
There are two things going on today. One is the Twitter push for the Big Five Publishers to be open about their diversity statistics via the Diversity Baseline Survey.
For the original tweet and petition from Lee&Low, click here.
Click here for more information about it from my writing pal SC.
So far, only Macmillan has signed the petition. If you've followed the #WriteInclusively or #WeNeedDiverseBooks hashtags, you'll understand the importance of having a diverse staff controlling what gets published.
As a child, there are only two stories I can remember reading that featured a young black girl. One was a book called Corduroy, about a teddy bear who wants to be sold, but the mother of the little girl who wants him says no because he's missing a button. The little girl is black, and I used to pretend that she was me.
The other book was an American Girl book for Addy, a slave girl in 1864. There have been many American Girls since Addy, but only one other that was a little black girl from 1850*, who wasn't a standalone character and was archived. The majority of the currently active dolls are not only white (6 of the 9), but little blonde girls (4 of the 6). Not only that, they archived Felicity, Kirsten, and Molly! (These were my three favorite girls.) No offense to the other little girls whom I haven't read as I aged out of interest in the stories, but these three were extremely diverse on the surface level alone. Felicity was a redhead who dared to put on pants in the 1770s; Kirsten was a Swedish immigrant; and Molly was the girl-next-door tomboy.
*Reading more on Cécile Rey, the other black American Girl, while I'm sure her character was whimsical, she seemed to be a pretty stereotypical black character. Paraphrase: Confident, curious, and loving the limelight, her lessons bored her, and she wanted to become an actress and loved to party. Hm...
And after 1864, where are the black American Girls? After 1824 where are the other American Girls of Color? Skimming through, I see Julie has a Chinese-American friend whose collection was archived in 2014. Can you imagine the interest the company could generate if they gave us, say, a black American Doll from 1958? Is that too hard a period to write about from that perspective? I know there is a glamorization of the time period because of the fashion and classiness, so maybe they just...I don't know.
And this is why it's important for people to mean what they say when they say they need diverse books. That also means you need to not only have people who advocate for diversity, but people who ARE diverse. They'll see those gems that the majority just might not feel are "right for them." They have a fresh take, a different eye. So I'm hoping the other 4 of the Big 5 will take a stand and follow suit.
Oh, by the way, this is a blog hop, so if you want to join in, scroll back up and click on SC's post to find the LinkyLink. :)
Friday, December 12, 2014
Friday Freeday: I'm not here today!
Good morning!
Today, I'm actually over at SC Author's blog for his new blog series about writing inclusively and diversity in books. You can click the link here, or his symbol for the movement on the right side of my blog.
Have a good weekend!
Today, I'm actually over at SC Author's blog for his new blog series about writing inclusively and diversity in books. You can click the link here, or his symbol for the movement on the right side of my blog.
Have a good weekend!
Friday, October 31, 2014
Friday Freeday: Being Black in Writerville
I alluded to this in my Wednesday post and am actually writing this on Wednesday because I won't be at my office.
But first, Happy Friday, and HAPPY HALLOWEEEEEENNN, ooooooo!!!!
Teehee. Now...
So, I'm black. haha (DUH, right?!). I don't call myself African American. I've often called myself an American of African Descent. That's more accurate. Africa's not even a country, so...anyhow.
Writing is already a profession/hobby/passion for which people give you strange looks when you tell them you do it. When I temped at Del State, an HBCU with a predominantly black staff, I used to work on my WIP at my computer. One of the ladies asked me what kind of stuff I write, and when I said fantasy, she was extremely confused (she kept asking me, "Like Star Wars?" which, duh, is science fiction). Black writers who do more than poetry and erotica? What?
Like, seriously, I had to Google black writers just now because the only one I could think of that wasn't Maya Angelou, Toni Morrison, or the other classic writers was Zane. I know there are more because my cousin suffers through the WORST Netflix movies, some of which were based on books she'd read. I could be jaded, but in my opinion, black people tend to only read books that show them the "black experience": the streets, non-suburban, racial struggles, sex, hip-hop. I know that's partially untrue because my mother loves Shakespeare and Jane Austen, so I know there are more black people who do.
*raises hand* I didn't have the typical black experience, and I can't fit comfortably or truthfully into that kind of box, so I won't try.
There are 318.9 million people in the U.S. About 13% of them are black. About 190 of THEM (even though, some are probably nearly dead, and they counted Oprah, and I can't stand Oprah) are writers in some capacity. ONE HUNDRED AND NINETY! How many of THEM are speculative fiction writers?
There are 6 essential ones, according to Troy L. Wiggins. So that's 3% of black writers...What's the math on 6 out of 318.9 million? I feel like there will be an e next to the number (THERE IS! 1.880924913477454e-8).
So, prologue aside, when it comes to writing what I love, fantasy, I feel like I have a double-edged sword to battle: how can I be accepted by black readers who may not even read speculative fiction (though I know they're out there because I'm one), and how can I be accepted by non-black speculative fiction readers of a world dominated by non-black writers, agents, and publishers?
Because:
That was in response to a review I read about Jemisin's The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms, which I think has been taken down since I tweeted...I tried not to respond in a way that seemed attacking, but it was a serious question I had.
My WIP isn't set in a medieval European world, and when I had tried to do it even a little bit (Ghuli spoke straight out of King James's world), it sounded horribly forced. So there are elf-like people and giant-like people, but the world is an American Progressive Era world. The ones who lived in what would probably be considered medieval European were wiped out before the story began. You see mules and steam-powered vehicles more than horses and only one actual castle. The characters speak differently depending on their nationality, but there are no forthwith's or Your Grace's (though I do use howbeit and my lady). Will readers who love Euro-centric fantasy be okay with that? My main character is a young interracial (by our definition, but not by their world) woman whose main issue is borderline (or just completely) existential, but not because she is a person of color. Will black readers be able to understand her inner plight without needing her to be worried about her color?
Mercedes Lackey & James Mallory created a WONDERFUL non-medieval European world in their Enduring Flame Trilogy (it had dragons, but there were ZOMBIES, too!). I related so well to the characters and loved that trilogy so much that I penned myself after their legendary hero, Kellen the Poor Orphan Boy.
I want people to read my book and not be put off that they don't see what they're used to seeing. There are no knights and dragons and fair maidens that some relate to fantasy. The black and blackish people aren't oppressed or living in neighborhoods to which others relate. But I want PEOPLE, not just black and not just white, to be able to relate to the big picture. I want them, like we all do, to like my MC just for being her, and I want them to appreciate this new world I'm presenting to them without feeling isolated because of what I didn't do in the story.
I also want to be an inspiration to upcoming writers who, like me, want to be a voice that can break through the tropes and trends and do it successfully. SO, here's to hoping!
Thanks for staying so long, if you did. I hate long posts.
But first, Happy Friday, and HAPPY HALLOWEEEEEENNN, ooooooo!!!!
Teehee. Now...
So, I'm black. haha (DUH, right?!). I don't call myself African American. I've often called myself an American of African Descent. That's more accurate. Africa's not even a country, so...anyhow.
Writing is already a profession/hobby/passion for which people give you strange looks when you tell them you do it. When I temped at Del State, an HBCU with a predominantly black staff, I used to work on my WIP at my computer. One of the ladies asked me what kind of stuff I write, and when I said fantasy, she was extremely confused (she kept asking me, "Like Star Wars?" which, duh, is science fiction). Black writers who do more than poetry and erotica? What?
Like, seriously, I had to Google black writers just now because the only one I could think of that wasn't Maya Angelou, Toni Morrison, or the other classic writers was Zane. I know there are more because my cousin suffers through the WORST Netflix movies, some of which were based on books she'd read. I could be jaded, but in my opinion, black people tend to only read books that show them the "black experience": the streets, non-suburban, racial struggles, sex, hip-hop. I know that's partially untrue because my mother loves Shakespeare and Jane Austen, so I know there are more black people who do.
*raises hand* I didn't have the typical black experience, and I can't fit comfortably or truthfully into that kind of box, so I won't try.
There are 318.9 million people in the U.S. About 13% of them are black. About 190 of THEM (even though, some are probably nearly dead, and they counted Oprah, and I can't stand Oprah) are writers in some capacity. ONE HUNDRED AND NINETY! How many of THEM are speculative fiction writers?
There are 6 essential ones, according to Troy L. Wiggins. So that's 3% of black writers...What's the math on 6 out of 318.9 million? I feel like there will be an e next to the number (THERE IS! 1.880924913477454e-8).
So, prologue aside, when it comes to writing what I love, fantasy, I feel like I have a double-edged sword to battle: how can I be accepted by black readers who may not even read speculative fiction (though I know they're out there because I'm one), and how can I be accepted by non-black speculative fiction readers of a world dominated by non-black writers, agents, and publishers?
Because:
Just read an old review that said moving epic fantasy away from medieval Europe makes it hard to relate to the characters.
Harder for whom?
— Debra McKellan (@DebraMcKellan) October 17, 2014That was in response to a review I read about Jemisin's The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms, which I think has been taken down since I tweeted...I tried not to respond in a way that seemed attacking, but it was a serious question I had.
My WIP isn't set in a medieval European world, and when I had tried to do it even a little bit (Ghuli spoke straight out of King James's world), it sounded horribly forced. So there are elf-like people and giant-like people, but the world is an American Progressive Era world. The ones who lived in what would probably be considered medieval European were wiped out before the story began. You see mules and steam-powered vehicles more than horses and only one actual castle. The characters speak differently depending on their nationality, but there are no forthwith's or Your Grace's (though I do use howbeit and my lady). Will readers who love Euro-centric fantasy be okay with that? My main character is a young interracial (by our definition, but not by their world) woman whose main issue is borderline (or just completely) existential, but not because she is a person of color. Will black readers be able to understand her inner plight without needing her to be worried about her color?
Mercedes Lackey & James Mallory created a WONDERFUL non-medieval European world in their Enduring Flame Trilogy (it had dragons, but there were ZOMBIES, too!). I related so well to the characters and loved that trilogy so much that I penned myself after their legendary hero, Kellen the Poor Orphan Boy.
I want people to read my book and not be put off that they don't see what they're used to seeing. There are no knights and dragons and fair maidens that some relate to fantasy. The black and blackish people aren't oppressed or living in neighborhoods to which others relate. But I want PEOPLE, not just black and not just white, to be able to relate to the big picture. I want them, like we all do, to like my MC just for being her, and I want them to appreciate this new world I'm presenting to them without feeling isolated because of what I didn't do in the story.
I also want to be an inspiration to upcoming writers who, like me, want to be a voice that can break through the tropes and trends and do it successfully. SO, here's to hoping!
Thanks for staying so long, if you did. I hate long posts.
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