Books of Interest From Writers of Color-Part 1

Well, I'm later starting this series of posts than I'd hoped, but here goes. These will not be reviews since I'll be talking about three writers at a time in each post and that doesn't leave enough space for a real review. (Though I may post some of my reviews that have run in other places along the way.) What I'm trying to do here is to bring some attention to writers of color who might otherwise not receive it. Some of them may be well-known in their field of poetry or whatever, but probably aren't outside of that. I will probably look at someone highly regarded within their field but not well-known by the general reader each time, along with a couple of emerging or new writers. I want to give a brief overview of their work and info on where it can be found for teachers or those interested in learning more or purchasing it.

Caveat: The world of writers of color is fairly small. Most of the writers I will mention in this series are friends or acquaintances of mine or friends of friends. Not always, of course—of the three Erdrich sisters mentioned below, I’ve only met Heid once very briefly. However, since I’m trying to get people to read writers of color and make a resource for teachers and librarians here, I will not post about anyone, friend or not, whose work is not good. It would defeat the purpose. Fortunately, I know a lot of wonderful writers of color.

Marjorie Agosín, La luz del deseo/The Light of Desire (Swan Isle Press) This is the latest of many wonderful books by this gifted poet and activist. (See October 2010 of this blog for a fuller account of her many awards and books.) This book is a gorgeously produced bilingual edition of an unusual effort on the author’s part. Usually, her poetry deals with injustice and oppression, often against women, or what she calls, “memory activism,” in which she imaginatively recreates her own ancestors and the oppression they faced—the poet is the child and grandchild of Holocaust survivors who settled in Chile. La luz del deseo, however, is a poetic love song in the tradition of the Bible’s Song of Solomon that celebrates not only a passionate human love affair but the poet’s love of Israel and her calling of that country back to the ideals on which it was originally formed. For La luz del deseo, I will give the link to the small press which published it since I believe in supporting these small presses without which we wouldn’t have many writers of color published, at all. Buy it from them. But if you want to see a wide selection of all the many books of Agosín, click on this Amazon link, as well.

Lise Erdrich, Night Train (Coffee House Press). This collection of extremely short pieces of fiction is the first by Lise Erdrich, sister of well-known novelist Louise Erdrich and highly regarded poet Heid Erdrich. Played out in the towns and reservations of Indian country, Erdrich’s brief stories put us into the hearts and minds of a dizzying array of characters with skill and love. Here’s a link to Coffee House Press for the book. Also, check out the sisters. I’ll be dealing with each of them later. This is a multi-talented family of Native writers.

Phyllis Becker, How I Came to Love Jazz (Helicon Nine Editions). In this first book, Becker writes of an African American woman’s life in the heart of the country with an emphasis on both identities. Jazz plays a major part in her family history and in her poetry, which echoes to the rhythms of America’s greatest music form. Becker isn’t well known outside of the two-state area of Missouri and Kansas, but she really should be, and I think she will be as more and more people discover her work. Here is the link for her book.

This is, of course, only a beginning. Lots more talented writers of color to come.

Phil Miller, Poet, Literary Activist, Educator (1943-2011)

Phil Miller reading one of his poems. Photo by Bonnie Walker.

On Valentine's Day, February 14, 2011, Phil Miller died in rural Pennsylvania where he had retired with his wife, Nancy. Many of you who read this and live outside of Kansas City will have no idea who he was, but all the Kansas Citians will recognize his name. I counted him a friend, as did so many poets and other writers in the area. He gave me my first public poetry reading a long time ago when I only had a few poems published in scattered magazines.


Phil was a fine poet himself with several collections of poetry published and a number of anthologies that he had edited or co-edited. But it's easy to forget that, because he poured so much of his time and energy (which often seemed boundless) into building the public poetry community in Kansas City and later in Pennsylvania. With no funding, Phil co-founded the Riverfront Reading Series in Kansas City in 1987 and ran it for decades. It continues to this day as one Kansas City's major reading series. Later, he and I were part of the founding board of The Writers Place in Kansas City, which is eighteen years old and still going strong. I remember when Ben and I got married at The Writers Place the year it was founded. Phil organized the reception entertainment--Riverfront Reading at the Wedding. Later, Phil became president of TWP's board. He taught at Kansas City, Kansas, Community College and mentored many working class and minority poets through the years.


None of this gives a true sense of the man, however. Phil was a really sweet guy, and he could be funny as hell, wry and sardonic and witty. He was a great ally to have when you were struggling to try to create something for the community. He was a hard worker. He was the kind of person who was loved by scores in Kansas City. He was also a fighter when he had to be. He had been fighting cancer for several years and refusing to let it knock him completely out of the community or out of poetry. He continued writing to the very end. His newest book, The Ghost of Every Day and Other Poems (Spartan Press), is forthcoming.


We will--I will--miss him. I suspect we'll not see his like again soon. I only wish more people could have been blessed by knowing him. I would wish him to rest in peace, except I know wherever Phil is he is raising hell and trying to get some readings started and persuade someone to write poetry and more to read it. Phil was never a man to rest in peace. He was always too alive for that.

Books of Interest From Writers of Color-Introduction

This will be a fairly regular feature on this blog from now on. Silly me. I thought I’d do a blog entry on this—a simple list with a brief annotation for each author. After the single-spaced pages of just author + one book grew to four pages and I still wasn’t anywhere near finished, I knew I needed to break it up into a series of blog entries focusing on just a few authors each with perhaps a little more about each author.

The idea for this came from being asked, not for the first time, what books by people of color there were other than the few name-brand authors, such as Toni Morrison, Alice Walker, Sandra Cisneros, Amy Tan, and Sherman Alexie. This question has been coming from sincere people, often teachers.

With such a long list, how can they not know any of these names? Easy. Many of these writers are published by small presses or university presses or were originally published by these presses and have just recently started publishing with the big New York trade houses, which may well not publicize them much at first. I know about them because a lot of them are my friends or they are friends of my friends or I have just been studying the field for a long time. This abundance of wonderful, gifted writers of color is one of America’s best-kept secrets. I may be doing these blog installments for many months, and when I finally exhaust all the fine writers I know about, there will still be many that I am not aware of. But at least, it will be a starting place.

Here’s just a partial excerpt of that long list I made. It’s in no particular order—just the way their names occurred to me--with no books or details. Just to whet your appetite. Each week, I’ll try to go into some detail about several of these authors (and many more, eventually) with titles of books and, if possible, links to where the books can be bought.

Marjorie Agosín

Diane Glancy

Luci Tapahonso

Francisco Aragón

Deborah Miranda

Kristin Naca

Sherwin Bitsui

Linda Hogan

Craig Santos Perez

Kimberly Becker

Tony Diaz

Anastacia Tolbert

Belinda Acosta

Carla Trujillo

Phyllis Becker

Virgil Suárez

Celeste Guzman Mendoza

Sehba Sarwar

Fred Arroyo

Manuel Muñoz

Fan Wu

Charlie Vásquez

Erika Wurth

Charles Rice-Gonzalez

Kim Shuck

Allison Hedge Coke

Blas Falconer

Daniel Chacón

Erasmo Guerra

Janet McAdams

Carolina Monsivais

Josie Dykas

Ruth Behar

Ching-In Chen

Joy Harjo

Levi Romero

Juan Felipe Herrera

Lisa Alvarado

Sandra Cisneros

Juliana Aragón Fatula

Leslie Marmon Silko

Carlos Cúmpian

Michael Medrano

Lorraine López

Alex Espinoza

Luis J. Rodríguez

J. Michael Martinez

Paul Martinez Pompa

Brenda Cárdenas

John Olivares Espinoza

Francisco Alarçon

Lorna Dee Cervantes

Martín Espada

Oliver de la Paz

Pat Alderete

Rigoberto González

Patricia Spears Jones

Allison Joseph

Phong Nguyen

Amada Irma Perez

Rene Colato Laínez

Helena Maria Viramontes

Richard Yañez

Cornelius Eady

Tomás Riley

Shin Yu Pai

Richard Blanco

Achy Obejas

Michelle Otero

...and the list goes on and on. Lots of good reading ahead!

Recovering and Looking Forward

Since I'm recovering from a bout with pneumonia and injuries from a bad fall a couple of weeks ago (right before the big blizzard hit), I am only posting a poem from my book, Heart's Migration, that relates to new life, new beginnings.

I'm a quadruple Scorpio, and Scorpio is the only zodiac sign to have more than one symbol. We have three--the scorpion, for those of us who are less developed, the eagle, for those of us who are more evolved, and the phoenix. I believe the phoenix is one of them because we live so many different lives, one after the other. At least, I have. Hence, this poem.

A PHOENIX, SHE MOVES FROM LIFE TO LIFE

and leaves only the ashes of her old self

behind. She plunges into the dark

future from the glare of her funeral pyre

that brightens the sky of her past

for miles and years and leaves a legend

told to generations of children

of a vast golden one whose gleaming

body rose from the burning corpse,

blotting out the moon

with huge wings beating against

the burning air to lift the dead

ground to the living night sky and fly

through the moon to a new place

with new people where she could be

new herself—until the destroyer

strikes again. Like a hunting eagle,

she lands, claws outstretched,

golden crest and feathers lost

in transit, her wings already disappearing.

She grows backward, smaller.

Now she can only crawl

into and out of shallow holes

in the ground of this new life.

Still, the wise avoid trampling her

for they know

she drags death behind her.
--Heart's Migration (Tia Chucha Press)

Today has been 75+ degrees, a new record for Kansas City on this date. The birds are out, acting as if they think spring is finally here. It seems very much a time for new beginnings, new growth. I hope you're experiencing the same, as well.

Good-bye 2010, bienvenidos 2011!

2010 was very good to me professionally, but it had some major drama. I began the year with an incredibly creative and productive one-month residency at Ragdale, where I made friends with artists I have kept in touch with throughout the year. I finished my final draft of a novel, Every Secret Thing, and sent it to a waiting editor. I wrote almost the entire first draft of a new poetry book,Dark Sister. And I applied for the NEA Individual Artist Grant (which I didn't get, unfortunately, but I was so pleased to see that my friends Blas Falconer and Michelle Boisseau did). This was all as a result of receiving the Midwest Voices and Visions Award from the Alliance for Artist Communities and the Joyce Foundation. This residency (and its accompanying stipend, which paid for transportation costs for the residency and then paid for my participation in the AWP national conference in Denver) was a huge gift to me, and its effects are still rippling throughout my life in a very positive way.


This is my writing studio in my suite at Ragdale.

















The next month, I flew back to Chicago (Ragsdale is right outside of Chicago) to read in the Guild Complex's wonderful Palabra Pura Reading Series. We had a great turnout and a very receptive audience at Decima Musa. I love all my Chicago friends!

In April, I went to the AWP with the Latino Writers Collective. I had written a proposal for us to read from our award-winning poetry anthology as a panel at AWP, and it was accepted. I worked the Scapegoat Press booth in the bookfair for a lot of the conference, but I still had a chance to attend many of the panels I wanted to see, and lots of writer and publisher friends, old and new, came by the bookfair or made appointments with me to get together. It was an exhausting but wonderful five days!


Latino Writers Collective members at the AWP after our panel presentation.










At the very end of April, we brought in Luis J. Rodriguez for LWC's Cuarta Página Reading Series. Luis is, of course, a fabulous poet and great community activist, and he worked with members of the local Latino community, as well as many LWC members, in conversation and discussion to help both groups in achieving their goals. After this whirlwind one evening and all another day--interspersed with media interviews--Luis was due to give his big public reading and talk at the Plaza Library in the evening. My husband, Ben, and I were on our way to pick him up at his hotel on the Plaza when Ben suddenly began to have problems. In the parking lot of a Plaza restaurant, I was frantically calling 911, then Chato Villalobos, an LWC board member who had taken an active part in all of Luis's visit. Chato left his dinner with friends and sped to the Plaza to pick up Luis to take him to the Library.


Luis J. Rodriguez and Chato Villalobos

(I have never yet mastered the art of placing photos in Blogger, so please ignore all photo awkwardnesses.)

















Meanwhile an ambulance showed up for Ben. After oxygen, the stubborn man was feeling better and insisted on sending the ambulance home--against the EMT's and my wishes. I had already arranged for Chato to take my place introducing Luis, so I started to take Ben home. Two blocks away, it hit him again much worse, and this time there was no doubt in my mind that he was having a heart attack. I pulled over and called 911 in a huge panic since his face was turning blue before my eyes, and he could hardly speak. (I must say, in both cases, the ambulances and firetruck got there in seconds! Can't say enough for those guys and gals!) This time I insisted EMERGENCY ROOM. After a very tough night and morning, they found a big blockage in an artery that would normally necessitate cardiac bypass. Due to Ben's youth (not quite 49) and the good shape of his other arteries, however, they put in a special kind of stent. And now nine months later after 3 months of cardiac rehab and the loss of over 30 pounds (on a man who was already thin), Ben is doing extremely well. Well, yes, there's been a complete change in our diet that hasn't been easy, but he's in very good shape. So the story has a very happy ending.

In July, I began a months-long battle with the city over our yard. Perhaps it stemmed from the time of Ben's heart attack when the lawn wasn't cut nor the garden tended for about a month. Oldest son Niles finally came and weed-whacked the back yard, and our dear foster-son Gustavo came (even though he was working and going to school, both full-time, and preparing for the imminent birth of his first child) and mowed the lawn several times when I realized it was a problem. (Had sort of been preoccupied, you know.) We have always had problems with these neighbors who have a hate for nature calling on our prairie garden over the years, but usually I explain to the city inspector and it's all okay. Only this time that wasn't an option. Had to go to court. That meant missing most of Macondo and spending two entire days in Housing Court--a very enlightening experience. As you might suspect, the rich slumlords get their lawyers in there and get themselves off, but as you might not expect, the judges and the city attorney really work with the poorer people and show them a great deal of respect and consideration. Unfortunately, they're hampered by the super restrictive ordinances. At any rate, I survived and kept my garden.

In the midst of this, Ben and I drove down to San Antonio for Macondo since we had committed to doing a seminar on small press publishing there. I was signed up for the week-long workshop and had to back out because of the initial court date. I just hated that since I love the Macondo writing workshop and the Macondo community so much. However, we wanted to keep our commitment to the seminar so we drove down for Friday when it was scheduled and then left to come back Saturday. It was lovely to at least get a little time with the Macondistas who were present, and it was nice for Ben to have a chance to meet them (though he already knew a good number). The seminar went well, and we had a lovely time at the big final pachanga.

Later in the year, Marjorie Agosin, my dear friend, came to Kansas City (see the post prior to this one). Shortly after that, at the annual Thorpe Menn Award luncheon I received the 2010 Thorpe Menn Award for Literary Excellence. And the lovely extra was that my dear friend Nancy Pickard was the keynote speaker and also won a lifetime achievement award. I had a table of women writer friends there to celebrate with me, and it was a delightful time.





Nancy Pickard and me after the Thorpe Menn Award ceremony








This is my wonderful new foster grandson and his mother, Erika Noguera. Erika brought month-old Bequer (more familiarly known as T-Rex) to the Thorpe Menn luncheon with her mother in a lovely gesture of support. Becquer is a beautiful mix of Gustavo and Erika's features and is beginning his life surrounded by poetry and writers. He is a very lucky boy, and he picked a wonderful set of parents.






Right after the Thorpe Menn event, I flew to Chicago for a panel on unrestricted grant-giving at the Grantmakers in the Arts national conference. I was to speak from the artist's viewpoint. Our panel had three directors of national and regional arts funding organizations besides me, and I found it fascinating to listen to them and the heads of all kinds of small to large such organizations in the packed audience. It's always educational to see an issue from an unexpected perspective. I was quite impressed with all of them and the care and good intentions with which they try to balance artists' needs and funders' demands.

That same evening, I joined my pals at Proyecto Latina to give their regular monthly reading. Diana Pando and Irasema Gonzalez head a fabulous team of young women writers who are doing a much-needed job in the local Chicago arts scene. This group of high-energy, large-visioned young Latina artists offer a monthly reading series, periodic other artistic group projects, at one time a radio show, and now a website that's full of life and spice. We had a great audience and lots of fruitful discussion. Love Chicago!

A little while later, Ben and I made a trip to Milwaukee, where he presented at a big academic conference and I gave a reading at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee with the ever-wonderful Paul Martinez Pompa. This was set up by Brenda Cardenas, Milwaukee's poet laureate and author of the stunning Boomerang, and the event was sponsored by the Latino Student Union, an impressive group of students. We had a standing-room-only audience, so of course, Ben and I got lost on our way to the university and got there late. Fortunately, Paul had kept them mesmerized. Attending this event was Bonnee Badger Lugauer, a friend of mine from high school that I hadn't seen since our graduation day over forty years ago. What fun!

I've left a lot of other readings and trips and events out of this account. Actually, I've done more professional traveling this year than ever before--even the year I ran back and forth between the Women's Center in Kansas City and the UN. But I don't want this post to run on forever.

Finally, December rolled around. Ben and I celebrated our 18th anniversary. Very special this year since I came so close to losing him earlier. Then I learned that I would receive the ArtsKC Fund's Inspiration Award and would be able to take a research trip in 2011 that I otherwise could not afford. An absolutely lovely way to end the year!

I hope your 2010 was excellent, but with less drama than mine. And I hope 2011 will be a hugely successful and happy year for you and for me.

And a lovely time was had by all.

Marjorie Agosin, my dear friend and wonderful writer and activist, came and went in a whirl of motion and words. She arrived at the airport Monday afternoon, and we sounded like schoolgirls, hugging and squealing with joy at seeing each other again.

I am always surprised when I see Marjorie again, because in my mind, I remember her as taller. She is tiny, in reality, but she's such a larger-than-life mind and presence that my mind plays the trick on me of remembering her as only slightly shorter than I am.

I had cleared everything else off my calendar for Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, in order to drive her around and take care of her and enjoy her company. So, in between all the events and interviews on her itinerary, on the city streets and the highway to and from Lawrence, Kansas, we talked and talked. We talked about mutual friends, about Macondo, about teaching, about how necessary it is to be optimistic and have hope if you are to remain an activist in this world, about our children and husbands (we are both extraordinarily lucky there!), about the Midwest, about Chile, about Kansas City and Wellesley as places to live, about politics, about culture and identity, but above all, always and over and over about writing. I am exhausted from all the events and driving, but so energized for all my writing projects. Talking with Marjorie is like plugging into a battery of creativity!

At her first major event, a talk and reading at the downtown branch of the Kansas City Public Library after a reception featuring Chilean sea bass in honor of Marjorie, we had a full house in the stately Helzberg Auditorium, and Marjorie kept the audience mesmerized. Afterward, the Q&A went on and on until I finally had to cut it off to allow time for book signing and a dinner with the Latino Writers Collective and some of our friends and supporters afterward. The diverse audience drew from various neighborhoods of the greater Kansas City metropolitan area with people from the inner city to some from the wealthiest suburbs. Yet they made an emotional community, drawn together by Marjorie's openness and her stories and poetry. They stayed late, talking with Marjorie and each other afterward and making connections they might never have made otherwise.

The next morning was full of interviews, and then we were off to the University of Kansas in Lawrence. First on the schedule was a discussion with graduate students from creative writing and Spanish/Latin American studies. This was a great group of students with incisive questions and discussion. Marjorie was as generous as she always is and connected some with academics who were doing research in their fields of interest. She even advised a young novelist on how to market his manuscript.

After a lovely dinner with some of the department chairs who made her visit to KU possible, we went to the KU Student Union to another stately room for another mesmerizing talk and reading by Marjorie, followed by more curious questions and a book signing. It was stimulating and great, but tiring--and was followed by the hour-long drive back to KC.

On Wednesday, it was so sad to say good-bye at the airport and know it will be months until we see each other at AWP. But what a gift this visit from one of our time's most gifted and remarkable women was--for all of us!


... And then, straight from the airport to Avila University to take part in a Latino Writers Collective reading. But that's a story for tomorrow.

Friday night reading and Saturday workshop--DON'T MISS!

On Friday, September 24 at 7:00 p.m., at The Writers Place, 3607 Pennsylvania, Gary Gildner and Christie Hodgen will read from and sign their newest books. This reading will be excellent—two award-winning writers! Bios below. Join us.

On Saturday, September 25, Gary Gildner will present a workshop for fiction and creative nonfiction/memoir writers focused on using the techniques of narrative to best effect. At $20 for TWP members and $30 for non-members, this is a real bargain. Read the bio and workshop description below, and you’ll see why.

These events are co-sponsored by BkMk Press and The Writers Place and were made possible in part by funding from the Missouri Arts Council, a state agency.

Gary Gildner is the author of 21 bookS, including The Second Bridge (a novel), Somewhere Geese Are Flying (new and selected stories), The Warsaw Sparks and My Grandfathers Book (memoirs), and Cleaning a Rainbow (his latest collection of poems). He has received The National Magazine Award for Fiction, Pushcart Prizes in fiction and non-fiction, and the Iowa Poetry Prize. His stories and essays have appeared in New Letters, The Georgia Review, The New York Times Sunday Magazine, The Southern Review, Grand Street, Antaeus, The Paris Review, and in many anthologies and textbooks.

Workshop by Gary Gildner

Saturday, September 25, 10 AM – 12 PM Body and Soul with Gary Gildner. This workshop is devoted to the writing of fiction and nonfiction and how they can enrich each other in the pursuit and practice of good narrative. For fiction writers who want their inventions to sound and feel real, be entertaining, and matter, and for writers of memoirs and essays who wish to organize their work by borrowing story-telling technique, the workshop will look at the major elements of fiction—character, dialog, exposition, plot—and engage in useful exercises. Bring your work in progress. $30 Nonmembers $20 Members

Christie Hodgen is the author of the novels Elegies for the Brokenhearted and Hello, I Must Be Going, both from W.W. Norton & Co. Her collection of short stories, A Jeweler's Eye for Flaw, won the Associated Writing Programs Award for Short Fiction, and was published by UMASS Press. Her stories have appeared in over a dozen journals and anthologies, and have won two Pushcart Prizes, a grant from the National Endowment for the Art, and the Tobias Woolf Award, among others. She teaches at UMKC.