Tumgik
#kidlit writer confessions
Text
Tumblr media
33 notes · View notes
cbcdiversity · 5 years
Text
Why Representation Matters
By L.L. McKinney
I’m seven and falling in love with Spider-Man. I learn everything I can about this kid who has incredible powers, but (unlike all the other heroes) his city hates him. He tries his best, and people are always knocking him down for it. Sometimes he wants to give up, but he doesn’t. Somehow, he keeps going. With addiction eating at my parents and slowly tearing my family apart, Peter helps me figure out how to keep going, too.
I’m ten, and it’s the first Show-and-Tell of the year. I bring the comic my Granny gave me, the first I’ve ever owned. A group of kids near the cubbies are giving each other sneak peeks of favorite toys, books, and other things before class. Thrumming with excitement, I join them and thrust my copy of Amazing Fantasy #15 out.
A boy snorts and mutters “What do you know about Spider-Man?” Before I can answer, his friends start in on how I’m just faking. How I should’ve brought my Barbie, the “ugly” one (they know I have it). Or maybe I should’ve brought my pet watermelon. I don’t present that day, or ever again.
Tumblr media
I’m fifteen, waiting for the 4:30 bus with some other kids, since I had to stay after class and practice with the rest of the Symphonic Orchestra. Sitting on the front steps of my high school, I sing along to “Crawling” by Linkin Park.
Someone rips my headphones off. A boy from the class ahead of mine presses them to his ears. He sucks his teeth. “Man, you listening to that white boy music.” A girl behind him giggles. “That’s cause she white.” Their little group cracks up, and he drops my headphones on the ground. Shouts of Oreo, wannabe white girl, and worse follow me home. For the rest of the year, I only listen to Hip-Hop in public.
I’m twenty, and after spending most of my life playing video games, I decide I want to make them for a living. I spend weeks researching schools and programs before finally settling on one. I save up my pennies, I pack my bags, and I move across the country to live with one of my best friends while I go to school. She tours the campus with me and helps me buy my supplies. 
The first day of class, I notice I’m one of three girls. I’m the only non-white person period. I sit in the back and try not to draw attention to myself. The teacher asks us to introduce ourselves and, for an icebreaker, say what we want to change about gaming. I say I’d like to see more Black characters. After that, it only takes two days for someone to ask why I’m not in the music program, because “that’s where all the other Black people are.”
It’s another two days before someone else says they didn’t know Black people even liked video games that weren’t NBA All-Star or Madden NFL. Before the week is out, someone says I’m making a big deal out of nothing, it doesn’t matter what race the characters are. Besides “doesn’t Donkey Kong count?” When the racism escalates to anonymous threats of violence that the school does nothing about, I drop from the program.
Tumblr media
I’m twenty-two, and Spider-Man 3 is about to hit theaters. I’ve seen the first movies multiple times on my own. I have all of the DVDs, including the special editions. One of my friends catches me looking up locations for midnight showings. “I didn’t know you like Spider-Man,” she says with a note of amusement in her voice. Without meeting her gaze, I quietly admit he’s my favorite hero, as if I’m confessing to a crime. She grunts to herself and goes about her business.
That week she surprises me with tickets for us and another friend. We meet at my parents' place, put on Spider-Man t-shirts, and paint his mask on our faces. The theater cheers when we walk in.
I’m twenty-seven and on my way home from a Disturbed concert. I pull into a gas station, music blaring as I head-bang along. When the song ends, I climb out to go get gas. On the other side of the pump, an older Black man is staring.
It’s about to get awkward when he nods, scrunches his face, and holds up a hand, pointer and pinky fingers out. “Hell, yeah.” I return the gesture. He gets in his car and drives off, the wails of Metallica trailing behind his low rider Caddy. On the way home I roll the windows down, letting the wind hit my face, music pouring out of my car.
I’m thirty-four, and the developers for a video game I’ve been playing for a couple years, Paladins, drop a clip of their newest character: Imani. 
She’s strong. She’s fierce. She’s a tamer of dragons, a wielder of magic, and she’s Black. I stare at my screen, fixated as I play the clip over and over again. I pause the video at different spots and take in every detail of her design; her wide nose, her full lips, her thick braids. I stare. I marvel. I bask. And I cry. I’m overwhelmed. There she is.
There I am.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
L.L. McKinney is writer, poet, and active member of the kidlit community. She’s the creator and host of the bi-annual Pitch Slam contest and spent time in the slush by serving as a reader for agents and participating as a judge in various online writing contests. A Blade So Black is her debut novel. 
Learn more about A Blade So Black and A Dream So Dark, the first two books in L.L. McKinney’s Nightmare-Verse, a thrilling YA urban fantasy series that #1 New York Times bestselling author Angie Thomas calls “the fantasy series I’ve been waiting for my whole life.”
46 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
10 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
That's a long time and as a writer, I totally understand the battle against perfection. It may be time to stick it on the shelf and ignore it for a little bit (NOT FOREVER, just for a month or so), long enough to start something else, and forget a few details that you've seen a thousand times.
3 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
I used to do that, too! My number was even lower. I only sent out five. But that has its own levels of torture too. Sending out so few queries and having to wait six months before you send out more means your journey will be slow.
But at the end of the day, you should do what you feel comfortable doing.
3 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
3 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
3 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
3 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
3 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
I'm all about complaining to get the stress out So tell me: how is your writing going? Are you mad that book came out? What bothers you about the kidlit community? Let's get it out!
3 notes · View notes
Note
I haven't felt the urge to write in a month.
I'm sorry to hear that. The fog is hard to see through sometimes. Try small steps like:
Making a map
Just outlining a scene
Talking about your work with another writer
Reading (I find audiobooks very helpful when the fog comes on)
It's important to take breaks. I'm sure the thought has crossed your mind that you might never return to the work and that can be frightening, but if you try to force yourself to go back to it that will almost surely happen.
Don't worry about taking breaks from your work. It'll be okay.
Tumblr media
2 notes · View notes
Note
I'm afraid that even if I do get published that no one will like my work... and that my career will be over.
Tumblr media
I think we all share this fear and I feel a deep level of camaraderie with you. But I think you know, if you let this fear stop you, your work will never be out there. You might be missing out on a huge opportunity because of it.
I know it's scary and that words don't often help with that, but you've got to, at least, try to get your work out there.
2 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
I really hate that this happened to you and that this happens period. I hope you flipped her off.
5 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Big oof there, friend.
2 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Submit an anonymous question, comment, complaint, or confession, OR submit a full-on post. I'm open to both. Come on. You know there's something bothering you about your writing.
2 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
2 notes · View notes