Posts Tagged Queer

WNDMG Wednesday – Celebrating – and Fighting for – Queer Joy

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We Need Diverse MG Logo hands holding reading globe with stars and spirals floating around

Illustration by: Aixa Perez-Prado

WNDMG Wednesday is excited to host authors Nicole Melleby and A. J. Sass this week as they write about celebrating and fighting for queer joy. Welcome to WNDMG!

Celebrating–and Fighting for–Queer Joy

Guest Post by Nicole Melleby and A. J. Sass

When it came time for us to write this essay, it would have been all too easy for us to sit here and talk about book bans, and challenges, and how queer authors, like ourselves, are often thrust into the spotlight as a result of them. This is an important topic, without question. Because kids deserve to see themselves and their identities represented in books without bigoted pushback–because we deserved to see ourselves in books when we were kids, too, but we rarely did and we want to do our part in giving young readers this representation now, despite the repeated attempts to censor it. And we also acknowledge that these acts of censorship are hard on queer authors and their readers. It’s sad and terrible that this has been happening with increasing frequency.

It’d be all too easy for us to focus an entire essay on that.

But this is not what our novel, Camp QUILTBAG, is about. At least, not for us. Camp QUILTBAG is pure queer joy, and when we sat down to write it together, that was exactly what we felt: Joy. There was something special about sitting down with a best friend and saying, “Let’s write about these queer kids–one who is like me, and one who is like you, and let’s give them support, and love, and a place to be safe and feel comforted.” There was something special about laughing and creating together as queer authors, something so incredibly rewarding about the happiness we found while losing ourselves in developing these characters and creating these pages.

Safe Places

When it comes down to it, that’s what we believe is important. Giving an anxious, twelve-year-old who loves Laura Dern and knows she’s a lesbian but is ridiculed by her old friends at her Catholic school a place to find kids who understand her. Offering a hurt, angry, and closed-off thirteen-year-old nonbinary kid a place where e can let eir guard down, to understand what it really feels like to give and have support, to maybe even develop a crush of eir own. What was important to us was giving a trans boy a safe place to get his period for the first time, and having a friend who understands why he feels betrayed by his own body. It was important to give an autistic queer kid the room to fully embrace who she is, and to fight for what she believes in. It was giving a Jewish kid the space to have a conversation about queerness and faith with a Catholic kid. It was introducing all of these kids to one another and saying, “Hey, all of your problems aren’t going to magically go away, but look how much love and support and comfort you can find in the meantime, together.”

The queer joy is important. Realizing you can have that happiness, even when people are trying to tear that joy away, is important. Being able to look the lawmakers trying to pass these blatant attempts at censorship in the face and saying, “You may want to ban our books, you may want to create laws that take our rights away, you may want to try and take our happiness away” but telling them, and showing them, we can be happy and joyful anyway–that’s what is ultimately important. It feels especially crucial for our readers to see.

It’s important to us, anyway.

Both of us were sad, confused, sometimes angry, queer kids–even when we didn’t fully realize our identities, we knew something was different. Neither one of us had books at our disposal that reflected who we were. We didn’t have representation we could look at and say, “Hey, that character is like me!” Sometimes we didn’t even have the vocabulary to describe how we were feeling, and sometimes that made us feel very much alone. It’s hard to find joy when you don’t know how someone like you is supposed to be happy–or that you even can be. It’s hard to know what support looks like when you can’t find any examples anywhere.

Examples and Role Models

Examples and role models are so important within the queer community, which is why we’re also so grateful to be going on a book tour together to celebrate Camp QUILTBAG’s release. Two queer authors, talking about our friendship and our writing process. Two examples of living, breathing queer joy for young readers and their caregivers to see, along with a message for them: you may feel confused or alone or angry right now, but there are people out there just waiting to love and support you. There is a future for you that has every good chance of exceeding your wildest expectations. There are adults who will never stop fighting to ensure this happens. We are so honored to count ourselves among them.

And in a time when books are being banned more, and more, and more–it’s important to keep pushing back, yes, but it’s equally as important to keep talking about the fact that being queer IS joyful. That being queer is okay. It’s normal. Even more than that, being queer is wonderful. We wrote Camp QUILTBAG because we envisioned a place for kids like us to thrive–because every kid, no matter how they identify, deserves to have support and acceptance and feel joy.

((If you enjoyed this guest post, you might enjoy reading this archived WNDMG interview with Nicole Melleby.))

About the Authors:

A.J. Sass

author headshot person wearing purple camp QUILTBAG tshirt

A. J. Sass (he/they) is an author whose narrative interests lie at the intersection of identity, neurodiversity, and allyship. He is the critically acclaimed author of the ALA Rainbow Book List Top 10 titles Ellen Outside the Lines, which was also a Sydney Taylor Honor Book, and Ana on the Edge, as well as the co-author of Camp QUILTBAG (with Nicole Melleby). All three books are Junior Library Guild Gold Standard selections.

A. J. is the author of the upcoming middle grade book Just Shy of Ordinary (Little, Brown, 2024), the picture book Shabbat Is … (Little, Brown, 2024), and a contributor to the This Is Our Rainbow (Knopf Books for Young Readers), Allies (DK/Penguin Random House), and On All Other Nights (Abrams, 2024) anthologies.

When he’s not writing, A. J. figure skates and travels as much as possible. He lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with his husband and two cats who act like dogs. Visit him online at sassinsf.com and follow him @matokah on Twitter, TikTok, and Instagram

Nicole Melleby

headshot of author Nicole Melleby, a brown-haired smiling woman in an outdoor setting

Photo Credit: Liz Welch

Nicole Melleby, a born-and-bread Jersey native, is the author of highly praised middle-grade books, including the Lambda Literary finalist Hurricane Season and ALA Notable Children’s book How to Become a Planet. She currently teaches at the Fairleigh Dickinson MFA Creative Writing program, and spends most of her free time roller skating. She lives with her wife and their cat, whose need for attention oddly aligns with Nicole’s writing schedule. Feel free to follow her on Twitter @NeekoMelleby.

About Camp Quiltbag

Twelve-year-old Abigail (she/her/hers) is so excited to spend her summer at Camp QUILTBAG, an inclusive retreat for queer and trans kids. She can’t wait to find a community where she can be herself—and, she hopes, admit her crush on that one hot older actress to kids who will understand. Thirteen-year-old Kai (e/em/eir)is not as excited. E just wants to hang out with eir best friend and eir parkour team. And e definitely does not want to think about the incident that left eir arm in a sling—the incident that also made Kai’s parents determined to send em somewhere e can feel like emself. After a bit of a rocky start at camp, Abigail and Kai make a pact: If Kai helps Abigail make new friends, Abigail will help Kai’s cabin with the all-camp competition. But as they navigate a summer full of crushes, queer identity exploration, and more, they learn what’s really important. Camp QUILTBAG prominently centers queer joy and community in a book that promises love and encouragement to all who turn its pages. As one of the first middle-grade books with an all-LGBTQIA+cast of characters, the enormous breadth of queer identity and experience portrayed will help young readers discover the language and encouragement needed to explore and affirm their own identities. This unapologetically warm book offers readers the delight of feeling part of a community, and the happiness and freedom that comes with being and loving themselves.

 book cover with two tweens hanging out smiling

 

Preorder Camp Quiltbag here!

 

WNDMG Wednesday – M. K. England Guest Post

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Illustration by: Aixa Perez-Prado

WNDMG Wednesday is thrilled to host author M.K. England this month. M.K. wrote a fantastic post for us exploring themes central to their writing–themes that consistently create connection and validation, which is the connective tissue of what diverse kidlit is all about. Thank you so much, M.K.! And congratulations on Player vs. Player — so excited for this book!

Guest Post, by M.K. England

My work as an author is a bit all over the place. I started out in YA sci-fi/fantasy with The Disasters and Spellhacker, skipped to adult sci-fi with Guardians of the Galaxy: No Guts, No Glory, then hopped to YA contemporary with The One True Me and You, which just came out on March 1st. Now, after all that, I’ve finally found my way to middle grade—and what a joy it is to be writing the Player vs. Player trilogy.

Two Consistent Features

What in the world could possibly connect all of those very different books, other than the fact that they all lived in my brain? There are two consistent features of everything I write:

  • Strong, loving, supportive friend groups that treat each other like family, and,
  • A reading experience that I, the queer nerdy Star Wars loving gamer child, would have felt validated by.

It’s dangerous to go alone!*

In the Player vs. Player trilogy, both of those features are fundamental to the story. We get to see the formation of my hallmark friends-as-family group in action as four kids come together to bond over their shared love of a video game called Affinity. Book one, Ultimate Gaming Showdown, is like a video game version of Mr. Lemoncello’s Library, where four kids team up in a virtual tournament to do battle for an amazing prize package. They play well together… but there are whole heaps of loneliness and isolation (and maybe a few secrets) keeping them from playing their best and coming together as a team—and as true friends.

  • Josh’s family moves around a lot for his mom’s job and just wants some friends to game with.
  • Hannah struggles in school and plays alone at the public library every evening while her mom works a second job.
  • Gaming is banned altogether in Larkin’s household, and she’s got a million other things going on in her life—but her heart and dreams are filled with video games.
  • Wheatley struggles to relate to other kids and has an overbearing father… and a secret that could wreck the whole team.

Player v Player cover art

I loved getting to design the video game these kids play together, and writing the action of the tournament was a blast. It’s the process of getting these kids together as a team, as friends who trust and care about each other, that ultimately propels the book forward though. There is such incredible power in finding the people who see you and validate the things you care about, something all of these kids desperately needed. To many people, video games are a waste of time, something shameful that kids should avoid. To these kids, gaming is a critical lifeline, a source of purpose and pride… and maybe even a future career.

Of course, as we’ll find out in PvP book two, it’s not all smooth sailing once you’ve found your people. Staying friends, especially when you’re on a team together? There are… challenges.

* – A classic Zelda reference that the kids in this book would totally not get. I embrace my status as an Elder Millennial Nerd.

Gamers are cool now, right?

The second constant in my writing, a reading experience that validates my queer nerdy young self, is baked right into the core concept. I loved video games a lot as a child. It’s the earliest thing I remember being very into, starting with button mashing on our old original Nintendo as soon as I could get my hands around the controller.

However, when I was the same age as the kids in PvP, it was the late 90s. Being a gamer at that time wasn’t especially cool for anyone, but definitely not if you weren’t a boy. Things have improved, but gaming is still a boy’s club in a lot of ways. For example, the vast majority of the top streamers on Twitch are straight cis white guys. Meanwhile women, BIPOC folks, and queer people get harassed right off the site. We clearly still have a long way to go.

For adult me, a queer non-binary person who grew up as that weirdo “gamer girl,” the opportunity to write this story is healing. The gaming team in PvP includes two girls competing at the highest level in eSports—and as a kid, I would have been obsessed. PvP is a book I would have read until the paperback had gone soft and fuzzy, full of creases and little torn off chunks missing from too much time spent in a backpack or wedged between the bed and the wall. Though there weren’t books for kids and teens back then that mentioned the word nonbinary (that I knew of), I gobbled up anything where I saw kids like me—girls who didn’t fit, who dared to ferociously love unexpected things, who chafed against their boxes. If there’d been a book series about girls in video games? Game over.

((Also into gaming? Read this archive STEM Tuesday interview with Janet Slingerland, who wrote VIDE GAME CODING))

Press start

 It’s been fascinating to me, writing characters who are just beginning to discover who they are. Characters in YA are doing the same thing, but they’re much further down the path. In middle grade, kids are just starting to take those first steps to differentiate from their families and embrace who they’ll become.

For some queer, trans, and gender-expansive kids, by the time they hit that 8-12 range, they’re already well aware of their identities. For others, like me, it takes longer. Maybe it was just the lack of representation in media and the “tomboy” label I was saddled with as a kid, but it wasn’t until high school that I really started to understand and embrace some aspects of who I was, and the full picture didn’t come into focus until my early 30s. Before that, it was much more subtle. Blushing glances, that awkward blend of curiosity and embarrassment, experimenting with clothes to see what felt right. While I’m sure I’ll write a more overt middle-grade story later, for right now I’m enjoying writing this subtle growth into queerness that so reflects my own experiences while the characters put 99% of their brainpower into their gaming goals.

It’s an honor to be writing directly to and for the next generation of gamers, who I hope will create a much more open and welcoming gaming culture in the years to come. I’ll still be here, controller in hand.

 

Headshot of MK England - background stars and galaxies

M. K. England grew up on the Space Coast of Florida watching shuttle launches from the backyard. These days, they call rural Virginia home, where their house is full of video games, dogs, plants, Star Wars memorabilia, and one baby human. MK is the author of THE DISASTERS (2018), SPELLHACKER (2020), THE ONE TRUE ME & YOU (2022), and other forthcoming novels. Follow them at www.mkengland.com.

Stay connected:

Twitter: mk_england

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WNDMG Wednesday – Author Shing Yin Khor

We Need Diverse MG
We Need Diverse MG

Artwork by Aixa Perez-Prado

WNDMG Author Interview with Shing Yin Khor

Featured in today’s WNDMG Wednesday, a WNDMG author interview with Shing Yin Khor about their graphic novel, THE LEGEND OF AUNTIE PO. (Penguin Random House, June 2021)

Shing Yin Khor Interview

About THE LEGEND OF AUNTIE PO

Part historical fiction, part magical realism, and 100 percent adventure. Thirteen-year-old Mei reimagines the myths of Paul Bunyan as starring a Chinese heroine while she works in a Sierra Nevada logging camp in 1885.

Shing Yin Khor Interview

MUF: Thanks so much for doing this interview with me – I appreciate the opportunity to talk with you about THE LEGEND OF AUNTIE PO. And I have to tell you, both my 9-year-old daughter and I enjoyed it immensely – she’s already reading it again! We’re grateful to you for bringing such a vibrant, creative book into the world.

What is the origin story for THE LEGEND OF AUNTIE PO? What is the significance of your decision to incorporate the Blue Ox?

SYK: My interest in the Paul Bunyan mythos goes back many years – it started with a fairly straightforward interest in logging history and this American myth, but as I learned more about early American history, especially in the Wild West, I realised how much history I didn’t know, or that was left deliberately untaught to me. A lot of these histories are glossed over in the popular American narrative. The popular conception of early American history, and especially that of Old West heroism is one full of white heroes and white individualism, which is more a matter of myth-building than historical fact. Often, marginalized groups are spoken of as a monolith, as a people rather than a collection of individual people, living a diversity of lives. This is not true now, and it wasn’t then either.

Shing Yin Khor Illustration

Paul Bunyan and the Blue Ox

SYK: The evolution of the Paul Bunyan myth feels like a microcosm of this history to me – it has become a story of individual strength, while the stories in the oral tradition are often far more about collective labor. Including Pei Pei(as the stand-in for Babe the Blue Ox) felt pretty compulsory to me, he’s just such a signifier of the Paul Bunyan myth, and I also just wanted a big goofy ox in the book.

I find American myth-building extremely compelling, and Paul Bunyan is probably the biggest American mythological figure, although probably a less generally destructive one than the myth we have made our “founding fathers” out to be. The American mythology dehumanizes and caricatures us. It tells us that indigenous people were “savages,” or healers, with no nuance for the individual, it tells us that enslaved people were “treated well,” it ignores the labor and death that this entire country was predicated on, and yes, some of the early Paul Bunyan stories are racist.

Shing Yin Khor Illustration

And to also know that these logging camps were filled with immigrants, and Black and Indigenous workers, that they had tons of Chinese and Japanese workers in them – at the center of this book is the simple question – what were the stories that we lost, because of the person that told them?

MUF: Why did you decide to set this story in a logging camp?

SYK: I am specifically interested in logging and forest history, and in the evolution of the Paul Bunyan mythos – a logging camp was the obvious choice.

The Power of Myth

MUF: A major theme of your book is the reclaiming of the power of myth and who gets to own it. How do you hope to empower your readers with this message?

SYK: I’m writing quite indulgently here – the reader I’m trying to write for is the 12 year old version for myself, not anyone else. I wrote this book to restore something to the young version of me, who only found books about brave imaginative kind white girls. I hope that young readers today won’t need to have that futile search because my fellow authors have already been writing them into history. I hope there are more books like this, especially those that center Black and Indigenous perspectives, but I am heartened that this book is coming out at a time where marginalized voices are centered more, even though I think the traditional publishing industry still has a very long way to go. I hope that this book assures young readers from marginalized communities that they can tell their own stories too, and I hope that the collective work of my elders and my peers and the work that I try my best to do now and in the coming years, will help to ease the path for them to center their own voices as storytellers and be their own protagonists.

The Chinese Story in Logging Camp History

MUF: One of the most painful moments in the book is drawn from the racial tension that followed the Chinese Exclusion Act—can you describe the experience of writing and researching that period?

SYK: The thing about doing research about any marginalized peoples, and especially if you are from the same group, is that you often get bogged down by the grief and trauma of the research. It is difficult, because a lot of the history is not well documented, and what is documented is often the violence of the time period against Chinese workers. 

Part of my impetus for writing Auntie Po was actually learning how Chinese people were, in some ways, valued by the world beyond their own Chinese communities. The plot point where Ah Hao finds out that he was paid more than the white cook is a historical fact, that I encountered in Sue Fawn Chung’s Chinese in the Woods, which is just about the only academic book about working-class Chinese in the lumber industry in this era. This story of logging camp cooks sprang basically fully formed into my head when I read it – I already knew a lot about the Paul Bunyan mythos, and I knew a lot about the early American logging industry, but this book so clearly placed Chinese people in this history I was already interested in and made it feel like it was something I deserved to claim.

((Enjoying this WNDMG interview? Read this guest post from author Christina Li))

Today’s Bias

MUF: How do you feel that history connects to today’s awful bias against the Asian

community?

SYK: I don’t really feel like I have the ability to form complete thoughts about this yet. But it is clear to me that the only way we move forward is in solidarity with other marginalized peoples, especially Black and Indigenous people, and other people of color. Anti-Asian racism is not just a current issue, it is an ongoing pattern of institutional racism that this country has engaged in, rooted in white supremacy, that seeks to pit marginalized people against each other, which does not ever benefit any marginalized group, and only benefits white supremacy. A large part of my book is about Chinese people forced into navigating whiteness for their survival and comfort, and realizing the limits of what white-adjacency can bring them. Our histories are much more intertwined with other marginalized groups than the stereotypical Asian-American narratives suggest, and solidarity backed by solidarity action is our only way out of the model minority myth. 

Personal Resonance

MUF: What is the most meaningful part of the book for you personally?

SYK: Mei’s relationship with her dad is really important to me, because it’s really similar to my relationship with my own dad. We immigrated to the United States when I was 16, and even though we are a much more privileged family than a logging camp cook, it is so clear to me the sacrifices he made to give me a life where I could make art for a living. He was the first person in his family to go to college, his brothers and sisters pooled their money so he could go, being an artist was never an option for him. 

I also loved being able to write a queer character while not necessarily needing to make it a major part of the book! Mei is a queer character that exists in many intersections of experiences, just like many other queer people. Not every experience foregrounds queerness, it is just part of who she is as a person. 

Publishing Team of Color

MUF: As a creator of color in the graphic novel space, what was your experience on your path to publication? In your Acknowledgements page, you note that this book was finished in collaboration with a team that was entirely made up of people of color. Can you talk a little bit about what that means to you? 

SYK: I was already doing a lot of my own work, both self published and shorter works with online publishers, so the path to publication for this book was fairly straightforward. I had some early experiences in my early days as a writer, where I was often made to feel that the stories that were wanted from me in traditional publishing were about trauma, or confessional memoirs about even more trauma, and I was unenthusiastic about that. But because I was doing my own work, and had established enough of my own voice, my entire publication journey for The Legend of Auntie Po was with a team that was always on the same page about the sort of story that I was going to be telling. And of course, my book is coming out after so many other incredible marginalized authors and bloggers and editors have done the work of making publishing a more inclusive and welcoming space for a range of voices. I am extremely lucky, I am writing books about parts of the Asian American experience ten years after I first read MariNaomi Kiss and Tell, after Gene Luen Yang’s been making graphic novels for decades, after Kazu Kibushi’s Avatar series is wildly beloved. 

 Working with a team that is entirely composed of people of color(my agent, editor, art director – all of Kokila, my publisher), meant that while I had a lot of work to do on this book, the work that I did not have to do included things like “explaining racism” or “being nicer to the white characters.” Authors of color deserve to work with publishers and editors who understand their lived experiences. Working on this book has been a dream with them – the editorial team at Kokila is staffed with the most brilliant women of color, all of whom are thoughtful and incisive and philosophically devoted to centering stories like these in publishing.

MUF: What do you hope readers will take away from THE LEGEND OF AUNTIE PO?

I hope they will feel even more agency and urgency to tell their own stories.

Chickens and Cats

MUF: Is there anything I haven’t asked that you would like to share with our readers?

Every time I was stressed when drawing the book, I added a drawing of a cat or chicken to it. I think there are seven cats and four chickens, if you’d like to take a stab at finding them all.

MUF: I love that. Headed now to look for the cats and chickens. Thanks again, Shing, and congratulations!

Shing Yin Khor Bio PIcture

Photo Credit: Shing Yin Khor

Shing Yin Khor is a cartoonist and installation artist exploring the Americana mythos and new human rituals. A Malaysian-Chinese immigrant, and an American citizen since 2011, they are also the author of The American Dream?, a graphic novel about travelling Route 66.

Connect with Shing:

Website