Thursday, April 1, 2021

The Burt Caribbean Award for Young Adult Literature and our Authentic Voices: a much needed sponsor

 



I promised a comment on the Burt Caribbean Award for this next blog and yet thoughts on 'own voices' pull at me. Having thought about it some more, I find they are intertwined. As our young people move from childhood to the distractions of the teenage years, the period of further development of the self concept, bombarded by social media and  media in general, they need a cultural  anchor for this journey towards adulthood. I am not for one moment suggesting that we miss out on the exciting Divergent series, the emotionally engaging Hunger Games series, nor even the Nancy Drew/Hardy Boy books which, in fact, by now they have probably out grown. There are wonderful new and exciting books out there, books galore, books like sand. 

This is where the Burt Caribbean Award for Young Adult literature came in. I have enjoyed these books, become overawed at the ideas, the gorgeous language, the sway of emotions. And then suddenly the euphoria was over! It ended! I believe it was decided that money be directed instead to indigenous writers in Canada. ( Please correct me if this is wrong). I applaud this. It’s not my business, but I have wondered how the indigenous people of North America have been 'abandoned' for so long. I once created a bit of excitement at an overseas conference in the USA by asking a question about the country not supporting their development more. Chaos erupted! Shouting from people at the back and the front of the room. (On occasion I have been known to be carried away with emotion and done things like this.) When I explained to some Jamaican officers later, one said, “Then, Diane, you come to mash up the people’s country.”  "No," said I, "but this is not right." You know, Jamaican  righteous indignation. So I am overjoyed for this move. Not the same country, nor the same First Nations, but you get the drift.

So, guys, why can’t somebody here in the Caribbean be convinced to be a replacement sponsor for that award? Everybody supports adult writing. Brilliant! But are we going to treat YA writing like we have done with children’s for years. Adolescence is when our young people explore, interrogate values, attitudes, cultural norms. This is when they begin to become the adults they will be. So we say, 'what a way the teachers migrate, eh', 'what a way the nurses migrate eh', and so on.  Big time Brain Drain! However, people have always migrated from island nations, for economic reasons, more opportunities, but some stay. Some even go to study abroad and come back ( I did); the ebb and flow of island life. But what if, exposed to more YA literature, more caught the spirit of our lives, and wanted to contribute more of  themselves than remittances! What a something, eh! No, I’m not knocking remittances. People from developing countries all over the world go abroad to work to send money, barrels home. 

You are going to say that nobody can prove that reading your own literature as a young adult made a difference to the adult you became. Well, you can do a research paper on attitudes, values and behaviours  if you wish, to see what you can find out. We have enough Burt Award books for you to do that.

I’m not asking for any big prizes. Just give a first prize, if that’s all you can do. There must be a company, a trust, a 'somebody' that can do this. If I was wealthy I would do it in a heartbeat. Our own authentic voices call to our young people to let them know what we have achieved, what they can achieve. They can’t hear them if they can’t get the books, right?

So my next blog will identify some of the things I learnt from the Burt Award books that I never knew before, or things that I liked, engaged my emotions; or even those that made me wish I could write like that. Working on the cliff hangers!

 

 

Tuesday, March 16, 2021

Own Voices and the Authentic Voices of the Caribbean

 


Down sizing and clearing shelves of books, one entirely of children’s and YA literature; in a digital world not many people or even libraries want them. What then will happen to our voices for our children? I once did a presentation at an ASCD conference in the USA entitled, Our Authentic Voices Call Out To Us: Do we listen? I presented a local version  Authentic Voices: The Case for Caribbean Children’s Literature in Teachers’ Colleges in Jamaica. In both, I referred to writers like Merle Hodge (Crick Crack Monkey), Olive Senior, Lorna Goodison, and research papers which highlighted the significance of  authentic voices in the material for our children and young people. 

Suddenly, it seems, America has identified Own Voices, and the Black Lives Matter movement has led to the ‘discovery of minority (African American) writers and children’s books.’ Then, since the prejudice against Asians has been uncovered, Asians are beginning to be included. We cannot but be pleased. Inclusion is essential, we know. 

The term Own Voices has been around for a few years, from 2015, it seems. If I’m wrong about this please write me or post a reply on my blog and I’ll acknowledge it.  It seems the  term ‘own voices’ was brought  back into focus because someone had written a book, to great acclaim, about Hispanics, and then was criticized as not giving an accurate portrayal of the particular group by a member of that group. I am being deliberately vague because I do not wish to rake up a discussion, which must have been painful for the writer and the critic

 The quote continues: “Those books that are # Own Voices have an added richness to them precisely because the author shares an identity with the character. The author has the deepest possible understanding of the intricacies, the joys, the difficulties, the pride, the frustration, and every other possible facet of that particular life — because the author has actually lived it.”

I think this must be especially important with  books for Native American or First Nation children. Who else could ever tell their stories? I gather also that an African American had quite rightly pointed  out that he did not think 'others' should  be trying to write about the African American experience. However having made this point, he set a story in a country he had never visited and was called out on that.

So that leads us to another point of view: https://www.refinery29.com/en-us/2019/04/228847/...
Taken to its logical conclusion, this approach to storytelling will set strict and claustrophobic limits on imagination, confining authors according to an ever-narrowing concept of which identities, settings, or narratives are their own."

 What has this to do with us here in the Caribbean? Certainly, we have been telling our own stories from we started to write children’s literature. We recognized the need for our children to see themselves in books, to validate their lived experience, especially  in  our post colonial territories,  socialized by British stories fist,  followed by their American counterparts. While adult literature blossomed early it took some time for us to get to this stage where we see increasing awareness and acceptance of children’s and YA literature of our own, where perhaps we could say that we now have a third generation of authors and publishers.

Moreover we, as a multicultural, multiethnic region, seem to have worked out who can tell what stories. The challenge we face is not lack of representation of all our people in books;  we have built up  a trust amongst ourselves; we are sensitive enough not to write about what we don’t know. I can write about Indian children ( almost half of the population in Trinidad and Tobago and in Guyana) but the stories I have written are generalized, things that could occur among any group going to school, for example, Twins in  a Spin. Interesting though, there are twins in my family. This story is true to a twin experience that we in our family  had wondered about. So it is still ‘write what you know’. However, I would never write a coming of age book for an ethnicity  to which I do not belong, without consultation/a reader who represents this group. There is a connection, therefore,  to the concept of own voices and our authentic voices and validation of our lived experience.

This brings me to the importance of the Burt Caribbean Awards  for Young Adult stories, and regretfully its absence from our young adult coming of age lived experience. That will be for another blog.

 

 

Monday, September 28, 2020

Memories and Ancestors: to spark creativity

 

At last I'm writing a blog. I've been aching to do it. I have not written one in ages, even wondering if there is any point. But perhaps one needs to believe that there is a purpose. Maybe this is one of the characteristics of faith.  In the time that I've not written, so many, many things have happened in the world that would cause us to lose some aspect of faith.  And yet if we give in, then it will truly be all over. And in spite of lockdown, with all that time to write, many of us have not written. I think we are just overwhelmed. If you have written please tell us your secret.

I hope you can find this blog. Between my old blog address and the computer being determined to give me a new blog location, I'm not sure what will happen One of the things that technology does to you whether you want it or not. Yes, you can ask for help, but they are all robots so there is no recourse.

The posting below is just to remind us that we missed Calabash this year. It's clearly a long time since I've been but this post helps me, and hopefully you, to recall the joy of being with other creatives.

 


Memories of Calabash, 2014

 Calabash was, as usual, a feast of emotions. You come away from Calabash full of writing and determined to write, even if you don’t. But yes, I have, in spite of my Capricorn spirit which insists that 'work' should be completed before everything else. 

The last time we had Calabash and I did my blog on it, I focused on things said that I thought could be applicable to children’s literature. This time I think I’ll just share what moved me, what contributed to that gorgeous feeling of fullness to overflowing.

 Because I so admire the craft of writing and writers, just being in their presence can make me joyous. (Yes, I know I’m one too, but I don’t seem quite mysterious enough to myself). So to hear and see Mervyn Morris (our poet laureate then) and Velma Pollard, although I know them personally, is still a delight for me. Hearing Zaidie Smith -  a feast of words. I love the voice in her work, the voice in her voice.

 In the following, if anything is a direct quote, it would purely be by chance. Consider everything reported speech, and anything not quite right is my fault, and not that of the writer to whom the comment is ascribed.

 Karen Lord from Barbados pointed out that ‘choices lead to change and opportunity, and are the cutting edge of chaos, but even chaos cannot overcome choices’.  Fascinating! I’m still thinking that through. It’s as if this should after all be quite obvious, and yet there are depths still to be fully understood - implications. (  September 2020 comment: I have to look at that again, investigate it; turn it this way and that, especially at this time of chaos. There is a story here.) 

The interview with Salman Rushdie was a surprise for me. I had no idea that he had as many interests outside of what we might consider writers are interested in – whatever that might be. Heartbreak Hotel by Elvis Presley, a part of his past, his youth, like ours, others all over the world. I liked his statement ‘that fiction is a journey to the truth’, I liked that in his writing he has tried ‘to look at where private lives intersect with history’, my favourite type of story, ‘man is a story telling animal;  helping us to understand what sort of creatures we are’, with reference to Toni Morrison, ‘magical realism is another way of telling the truth’. 

What is it about Calabash? It is in itself magical; the venue combined with the auras of the people; no, I don’t think  it’s the camaraderie, although that is certainly there. It’s a quietness, a resting, even with the music drumming and throbbing, it’s quiet and restful (perhaps the genetic memories of the ancestors). The sea, the breezes? Ah the sea! Perhaps that is it. Just writing about it brings back the desire to write, to create.

 


From a 2019 pos
t:  I heard both Olive Senior and Lorna Goodison, at Talking Trees, 2019. Two of my favourite authors at the same literary Festival. My cup overflowed.

 Ann Margaret Lim was also there: a powerful performance: I was fascinated by her reference to her Chinese grandparent(s). We are indeed  an island of Out of Many, One People, in spite of some wanting to change our motto.  I would say to those who want to change the motto: Never judge others. You do not know what is in their hearts, what they hold dear. Do not attempt to erase other people’s ancestors. They are not yours to erase. For myself: All the people who went up into the making of me, I value; I celebrate the me that has survived throughout history. You know I feel strongly about this, don't you? I can be quite a little warrior. And now I have a beautiful new granddaughter (one year +) and she is part Chinese, and I am in love with her. Don't ever fool with me guys when it comes to our motto and who it represents. Sorry, clearly  I've been under lockdown too long.

 

Photo: Velma Pollard, Ann Margaret Lim, Raymond Mair at Bookophilia

(Change of font size in body text one of the mysteries of technology)

 

 

 

Friday, August 9, 2019


 
Lynn Joseph's Dancing in the Rain,  third place winner Burt Award for Caribbean Literature, 2015: another book answering the question why write? Or the power of stories
I see that my previous post was in May. Astonishing! I was supposed to be getting organized at that time, posting regularly. Well clearly not. In what the Americans are now calling the big 'reveal', I will let you know that my husband has  dementia. I thought it would be that he'd just get quieter and quieter and that would be painful enough, 'the long goodbye', as my doctor said. Sometimes he is, but at other times it's quite different, and today is one of those;  hallucinating and very noisy, shouting at his imaginary people. It's emotionally draining.  Yes, he has taken his meds. I feel like the 'deer in the headlights'. What would be an appropriate simile for the Caribbean? Can't think! I wonder if this could be the making of a story. I'm not sure how many young adults have to interact with people suffering from dementia or Alzheimer's, so perhaps it wouldn't be meaningful to them. However, that is why, to my surprise, I have not organized myself.
Therefore perhaps this is a good time to re-post Lynn Joseph's Dancing in the Rain (Blouse and Skirt Books/Blue Banyan Books), a Burt Award winning book. It deals with realities that sometimes we wish our young people didn't have to go through, and yet, increasingly in this world, they have to face so many challenges, so many things for which we have no explanation or even understanding.

I had a post about books that bear evidence to the power of stories. Dancing in the Rain is one such  book.

Offline for three days, one felt  lost in space without  the ritual of opening emails.  I decided therefore that  I could use the time to consider at least one philosophical question. Would there be an answer if one opened one's mind? I needed to make sense of things. And the world was not making sense.  No doubt, there are others who  feel the same from time to time, and especially in today’s world.

In stepped Dancing in the Rain. I was pulled into the story by the lyrical writing. It's a joy to read; images abound, almost like being able to watch the  frames of a movie gently gliding by.  Joseph's characters are delightfully drawn;  you do indeed get to know them, want to know not only the outcome of the story, but the outcome of each of their own personal stories. The colours of the Caribbean depicted are vibrant and magical.    

Against this mystical, magical background, two horrendous occurrences make their appearance,  the destruction of the Twin Towers in New York on 9/11, and the Holocaust. The main characters are suffering from the effects of  9/11.  It’s significant that a book for young adults should deal with a traumatic occurrence which falls within present memory. It is contemporary; it is topical in a world where so many things seem out of our control, so beyond our wildest imaginations, and not in a pleasant way. The Holocaust appears as   a story within the  story, its purpose to draw attention to the different ways people survive after a tragedy of immense  proportions. So, in a sense, it informs the present.

The young protagonists ask philosophical questions and seek answers to the things we adults ourselves often do not understand. Yet,  it seemed as if by interacting with the characters and their story, and the  really brilliant protagonists, we understand what we always knew, but sometimes forget, that the only one way to deal with disasters is with faith/ hope and courage;  Joseph more than once refers to the importance of hope.

Joseph also speaks about joy and love, 'you are my heart', 'you are my joy', both of which I firmly believe in, and which from time to time appear in my stories.

So  did I have a breakthrough as a result  of my  journey with Joseph's characters, their philosophy, their brand of magic? Well something happened. It occurred while reading Dancing in the Rain. I have never doubted the power of stories, the power of books.  I gave thanks for the power of this story.

Saturday, May 11, 2019

Young Adult Books and the Burt Award for the Caribbean



I thought I was going to be more organized and post regularly. In my defense there have been a number of passings of great people ( family or family friends) who contributed to Jamaica and the Caribbean, and we had to go to the funerals. Four in two months takes its emotional toll. And we must believe that indeed there are younger ones who will follow in their footsteps, even if they cannot fill their shoes.

I was most disturbed to read that the Burt Awards for the Caribbean YA books/stories will be discontinued due to the passing of the donor, and the decision of those in control of those purse springs to spend the money in other ways.  I am very, very sad about this. Wonderful work has been produced and my heart has been filled with joy over the talent displayed; and many of the writers are  young. No, Nancy Drew and company cannot replace them, as some have said. No, these are first class books and should be in every school, for reading, for discussion (no, not as set books), but to be recognized as recordings of our times and for knowledge and most of all, enjoyment.  A book for enjoyment? Yes, indeed! If our young people haven't found this out yet what a pleasure they have missed.

I plan to write a few words about the ones I've read (I haven't been able to access all) not a review really, but what I liked about them, the reason why I hope that Bocas Lit will find another sponsor. I will start with Gone to Drift, written by Diana McCaulay. It was a review by me, but more from the point of view of how it affected me, rather than a scholarly approach. I had posted this at a previous time, but it's more relevant to post it again here, as it will inform future postings about the other books .

In praise of "Gone to Drift" by Diana McCaulay: 
 
Prize Winner Burt Award for Caribbean  Literature, 2015:  Papillote  Press, 2016
 


This is a beautiful book. If it were a painting it would be in tones of grey and shades of blue for the sea, and for the land,  tones of beige and green, with splashes of colour added by the people who travel across its landscape. And I would buy it instantly for fear of losing it.  


This may seem like a strange way to begin a book review, and maybe this is not really an actual book review; maybe it’s more like in praise of good writing, a good story, and the environment. This last may seem too obvious to mention because we know that the author is a well known environmentalist. However, this book is not just an opportunity to recognize the importance of the environment; it is a hymn to it. You cannot read this story and come away unmoved by the significance of our environment and its importance to the characters in the story, and  to the island. 
The setting is the environment; more specifically the sea. The characters and  the sea are entwined in a dance, an embrace, which we  soon understand, can at any given time act  in favour of the human characters, or not.  It is this overarching character,  the sea, unmoved one way or the other by all that is happening,  and bearing  no animosity to anyone, that  forms the backdrop to this story.  This sea can bring you a bounty, yet you can get lost in it, gone to drift. 
 
Of the two main human characters, one is Lloyd, a young boy, who is worried about his grandfather, who has not returned from a fishing trip, in what  Llloyd perceives as good time. None of the other characters, mainly fisher families, Lloyd’s family, those who interact with them along the various coastal areas, seem to be very worried. You are left to wonder if, as they suggest, that perhaps there is nothing wrong;  Lloyd is unduly anxious. On the other hand, you wonder if it is that they do not wish to make Llloyd feel any more worried than he is. You fear that they know something that he does not, that they are not telling him the whole truth. 


The other character is Gramps, Lloyd’s grandfather, whose voice Lloyd can hear  in his head, “I come from a line of fishermen.”  This is as powerful as if the statement were, “I come from a  line of kings.” We believe this, a line of greatness.  


 Gramps  also tells his story.  And so we have the two stories, Lloyd looking for his grandfather, using any means necessary, his good friend, Dwight, the Coastguard, Jules, the lady who cares about the dolphins, his mother, his ne’re-do-well father, his grandfather’s friends; and Gramps’  story of his own father, his many brothers, all fishermen, and his mother. We come to care about Gramps’ family, as well as for Lloyd, whose determination and bravery in his search for Gramps often astounds us.  


It eventually dawns on us that Gramps is not on any of the main cays off the coast of the island,  but is stranded on what seems to be  a mere rock in the sea. The tension is created  not only by Lloyd’s search for his grandfather, the question of how  dolphins fit into this scenario, and whether his grandfather can be found in time, but also by seeing the  old man himself wondering how long he can survive on little crabs and rain water, the latter coming  sporadically.   


The author uses the device of alternate chapters for each of these two human characters, so that we can measure Lloyd’s attempts against the will of his grandfather to survive. It works; we are not distracted; rather, we  are caught up in the emotion of the situation.  


The language is measured, like a tale told on dark nights by lantern light, increasing  the feeling of  being at the mercy of the elements.  Descriptions are rich, as  seen in Gramps recollection of a sunrise.  


Then I realised that  I could see my hands and feet as a grey light stole across the sea. And to the east I saw the sky turning into a hundred different colours from the blue of a summer day to the dark purple of the thickest squall, from the pale pink of the inside of a conch shell to the bright orange of a ripe mango, until the round ball of the sun itself came up and the colours of the  sky spread over the water and even warmed our faces. I knew then that the best place to see a sunrise was at  sea.


It is for this reason alone that you cannot hurry through this book. Even as the mystery deepens, you need to stop to see what the characters see, to feel what they feel.
 Then, suddenly you may be caught unawares, by an intervention into this beauty, alerting you to  danger, which may be lurking, as in Gramps’ description of his brothers going to sea: 


It was late when they left and I thought the night was darker than usual.  We stood on the beach and watched them go. The boats made a ragged triangle formation, like a flock of birds, and for a few seconds their wakes were visible. Then they pierced the night and disappeared.
 
And you understand  in the sameness of their going to sea, the routines of their lives, the power of  nature, of the dark, of the night, of the sea.
The dialogue, which is a mixture of standard Jamaican English, and what I like to call a modified Creole, is well handled. It effectively represents  the mother tongue of our people, but does not become so deep as to make it difficult to read, or for the book  to travel to other countries. From Lloyd to his grandfather, to Jules the uptown girl, their voices ring true.  And this use of language, this love and respect for the sea, for the creatures of the sea, bridges what could be social differences and makes us one. 
Consequently, just as you come to respect the environment,  you come to respect the people who depend on the sea, and their way of life. The author does not allow you to feel any  pity for the difficulty of their lives.  This is a great skill, to describe another life with empathy. You may even begin to think that like Lloyd and his grandfather,  these people are the salt of the earth, or the sea, their nobility in facing the dangers of the sea  surpassing those who make a safe living from the land. And then the author brings you back to reality. These people are no better or worse than people anywhere. They have their nobility, they have their heroes and their villains, and their awful betrayals. 
This coming of age story of a boy called Lloyd, who loves his grandfather,  will leave many wondering about the meaning of it all, and yet Lloyd must make sense of it. 


This book should be read in all schools. To say that a book should be read in schools, makes it sound like a textbook, or the over-worked literature set-books. However, I would want all our young people to read it, to discuss it, and  that seems to be the only way to get it to them. This is a beautiful book!
 

Thursday, March 28, 2019

On Considering Inspiration and Creativity


 This is the remains of a blog written in April 2017. What happened? Why haven’t I written a blog since 2017?

I thought about  writing on my blog, but have been quite successful in ignoring the thought. Why I wonder? It might be the state of the world, the state of our own little  worlds. Did I know that my husband would become ill in that year, which in a way would turn our lives upside down? (Note to self: Don’t be dramatic,  DB!) Did I know that one of my very best friends would get ill about the same time as he did, and  die a year and a bit later? (Did not expect it!).  Yahoo has simply changed the design and colours of my mailbox – just so! I would naturally call her to talk about the high handed approach of technology and ask her how to change it back. She always knew those things.

And yet I’ve not been short of inspiration nor neglectful of my writing. So we must presume that  inspiration has had its effect on creativity.

So what inspired me then and kept me writing while ignoring my main contact with people - my blog?

There was a reading at Bookophilia of Derek Walcott’s poems by Raymond Mair, Velma Pollard and Ann Margaret Lim (see photo above).  Raymond I’ve known since I was 16: image of him reading  poems at the foot of the hill where his cousin, my friend, lived, Tarrant Gully in the background. He was mature to our young years and we were very impressed. Velma I have had the privilege of getting to know later in life. This was the first time I was hearing Ann Margaret Lim although I’d heard her name many times before.  I was inspired by the reverence and respect for this giant of a man by others skilled in their craft.

Then there was the investiture of Lorna Goodison as the new Jamaican Poet Laureate.  In the future if anybody ever researches me (what a thought- will anybody be reading anything that extends beyond 140 characters?) they may find a picture of a bunch of us captioned, ‘St. Hugh’s Old Girls’, with me in it. This is how people make mistakes about history. I was sitting among St. Hugh’s Old Girls (Lorna’s alma mater) but I went to St. Andrew. Inspiration taken from this:  the sound of Lorna’s voice reading her poetry, her brilliant choice of an outfit which was like a floral effect of a Joseph’s coat of many colours. One can be inspired by objects, colours, sensations.

Then there was Talking Trees Literary Fiesta on May 27. Amongst the authors,  brilliant young writer Roland Watson-Grant,   and featuring  Lorna Goodison, Olive Senior and Ann Margaret Lim.  I heard again the Lorna Goodison poem,  A Forgiveness  but this time it fell on fallow ground and I  took it to heart. And perhaps that is why one morning in 2019, I could, to my total surprise, discover that I had forgiven the main characters on my journey, just like that. I had been praying about it, but  my mother's family is not a forgiving one. Malice is their middle name and I am descended from them.

I was fascinated by Ann Margaret Lim’s reference to her Chinese grandparent(s). We are indeed  an island of Out of Many, One People, in spite of some wanting to change our motto.  I would say to those who want to change the motto: Never judge others. You do not know what is in their hearts, what they hold dear. Do not attempt to erase other people’s ancestors. They are not yours to erase. For myself: All the people who went up into the making of me, I value; I celebrate the me that has survived throughout history.

Then in the late evening Olive Senior  made me feel quite wonderful as she told me that she really liked my children’s book Abigail’s Glorious Hair. So I came away celebrating others  and feeling very creative.

And though I did not go home and write a story in a weekend (first draft), as I did last time I was at Talking Trees, I have been writing.

·         Finished a YA novel I’ve been writing for about 2 years and put it on Amazon. My editor said she could barely put it down.

·         Submitted two adult/YA short stories to competitions. No, I did not win anything, but I enjoyed writing them. One is a romance in an altered state.

·         Started another YA novel. Love it! Have no idea where it is going or why. Waiting for the characters to tell me as I would like very much to read it.

·         Writing two YA short stories: one about divorce, and the other about identity in a dystopian setting (see the effect of inspiration above) I can finish both now, but don’t know what to do with them once I've done that.

·         Finished two short stories for 12 and under; sold one, it was a commission – no big money at all. The other, I think that project has fallen through, victim to the violence we strew. Not a word from the people. Oh well!  Do we know books can be big healers?

Inspiring creativity!
 

Monday, April 17, 2017

Despatches: BookFusion, Lignum Vitae Awards, Talking Trees Literary Fiesta


 

 Bookfusion: Weeks  ago I should have mentioned BookFusion, an enterprise recently established by a young couple.  They did a presentation at one of our coffee mornings. It’s a space where you can buy Jamaican books  (children’s; yes, children’s!) and it’s also the digital library for books from the Ministry of Education. This is what we always said we wanted and here we are dragging our feet again. Instead of sending a hallelujah chorus (no disrespect especially at this time of year) and taking advantage of it, we are  wandering around and wondering what next to do.  (This is directed to myself as I am not having the big writing weekend I planned.  A little bit  devastating to find you have all the time really and you’re still stuck  . . .)

Heaps of Ministry books are on it, (you know the ones you can’t buy, because the Ministry doesn’t sell books): Dr. Bird Reading Series, the Blue Mahoe (which came after the Dr. Bird) for grades 7-9, and even Literacy 1-2-3, that great series I managed and was so upset that they weren’t in all schools or available for sale.  Well they  are there in all their splendour!  And you can borrow for free.  I was at a meeting with some educators (vague enough for all to be unidentified) and I mentioned it, and someone was quite astonished, said he had heard nothing about it, and looked it up immediately. Delighted! I gather information had been sent out to all. However, I suppose sometimes more than one messenger has to go out  with the news.

So please look up BookFusion and pass the word around.  Be another messenger. There are two sections, one the digital library (please note this, all those schools that wanted access to Literacy 1-2-3),  and the other, the bookstore. Below is a link to an article about BookFusion.


Since its capital injection from First Angels, the company has added Carlong Publishers, Blue Banyan Books, LMH Publishing and a "few other local publishers" to its client list.” (Quote from the article above)

This is a link to the bookstore.


 

Lignum Vitae Awards 2017: The next piece of news is that the Lignum Vitae Awards are on this year. Please check the Jamaican Writers Society website.  Entries for this year should be sent in by June 30, 2017.


My dear fellow writers, I know that you have been working on your story/novel since the last  awards in 2015, either because you couldn’t finish the story for the 2015  competition, or you didn’t get shortlisted then, or  you just got the idea to start it then when you realized that maybe you could be just as good as some of those who won, or. . . .

Talking Trees Literary Fiesta  is also on this year, May 27 at Treasure Beach. The last time I went it was beautiful. I wrote a story (first draft) the next weekend as a result of all the inspiration  and creativity I felt.

The Fiesta will feature poet and author, Olive Senior. She will share the stage with the newly named Jamaican Poet Laureate Lorna Goodison, who was the featured reader in 2015. Other readers include Malachi Smith, Roland Watson-Grant, Margaret Bernal, Ann-Margaret Lim, Yashika Graham . . . . (quote from the Website.)
This promises to be wonderful.