Write the book you want to read.

-Toni Morrison (1981, annual meeting of the Ohio Arts Council)

At the onset of what would be the height of the fuzzy-in-the-brain pandemic years, my dining room table was overrun with clutter and unfinished projects. In a moment of reflection (and probably, exasperation and anxiety), I decided to finally get to the bottom of the boxes and piles of…stuff.

To my delight, I came across a small 3×5 tattered journal that I remember keeping in the car (circa 2006) to jot down ideas, mainly about my then 6-year-old daughter, Danielle. I opened the journal and began to read my quips, ideas, and, apparently, Danielle’s scribbles and early writing all over the pages.

When I looked through the scribbles, I saw a story that was jotted down in 2006 entitled Muddy Ballerinas. Reading the words written in faded pencil instantly took me back to the Thatcher Pre-School in 2006 when my daughter and two friends asked us (the mothers) if they could have some extra time on the playground before going to ballet class right next door.

I remember the mothers, Souad, Ariane, and I looking at each other with lifted eyebrows as if to say—this is going to be bad. Very bad. We each offered our silence to the girls, which meant that it was okay to play. I remember saying aloud, “They are going to be muddy ballerinas” and we all gave a nervous laugh and tried to remember that kids playing in the mud was a form of freedom. Right?

The girls giggled and splashed and had THE BEST time making mud pies and then they trotted to ballet class. I’m sure we all felt guilty as we offered our apologies to the ballet teacher.

While the girls were in the ballet class, I jotted down the story about what just transpired. It also occurred to me that it is a real gift for kids (and adults) to interact within and across racial/cultural groups and settings. These three six-year-olds, from different racial and cultural backgrounds, were friends—pure and simple.

As I sat at my dining room table remembering all of this, I realized that this was a story I wanted people to hear. Especially as we entered what would be a long-term challenge with COVID-19, political factions, and disease in our collective community.

Muddy Ballerinas and the power of friendship was the book that I wanted to read. I wrote it all those years prior. Now, was the time to share publicly.

I’d written poems for college publications and had written quite a few professional articles and book chapters ranging from mathematics instruction in post-apartheid South Africa to teacher training in communities of color but I had not published a children’s book, nor did I know how to.

I talked to the girls, Reham, Alyssa, and Danielle, who were 16 or so at this time, as well as their families, about publishing Muddy Ballerinas. Everyone was supportive and eager. I found an illustrator and self-published my first book in 2020.

My greatest joy was having a book talk featuring the girls and their moms. It made me remember what a gift storytelling is.
It made me remember that writing about what’s real and true IS what’s real and true.

Since self-publishing Muddy Ballerinas, I have added Muddy Ballerinas and the Big Bowling Party, as well as a version in Spanish. I have also self-published 2 additional books about bees and beekeeping (with one on the way soon! Yay!). I have written 16 non-fiction readers for Boston Public Schools, developed a K-12 curriculum for Arts for Learning Maryland, and developed numerous courses for students and adults taught locally. To find out more about my writing pursuits, visit my website www.holleefreeman.com

About the Author

Hollee Freeman, PhD is an award-winning and nationally certified educator who has worked for over three decades in K-12 schools, at the undergraduate and graduate levels, and in administration. She is also an author, photographer, and beekeeper who uses her creative and professional endeavors to create space and cultivate learning experiences for adults and students.

“There are three kinds of advice in this world: advice that’s meant for you, advice that’s not meant for you, and advice you’re not ready for yet.”
– Michael La Ronn

Ever feel like you want to talk about your writing journey, but that little voice in your head tells you that nobody wants to hear from little ‘ole you? That at your level, there are so many others much better equipped to tackle the subject? It’s kind of annoying, right? Because as creatives, it’s in our nature to want to share our experiences, and when it comes to building community, sharing is vital. Especially when finding community on TikTok.

Now, I know lots of us are video-shy introverts, but hear me out. If you’re looking for a place to dip your feet in the water and test your networking skills, then I highly recommend giving TikTok a try. Why TikTok? For those who are aware of what’s been happening on Twitter (currently called X), you’ve seen what used to be a once vibrant community of authors, agents, and editors slowly fall apart. Gone from the platform are the days of connection that had built so many relationships and communities in the publishing world. But that connection is now being created on TikTok, and I’m going to give you a few tips on how to get your foot in the door.

Firstly, you don’t need all the high-end microphones, cameras, and ring lights to make a debut on TikTok. Primarily, outside of the ever-popular but strenuous TikTok dances, the app leaves a lot of room for personal connection through conversation. Now, this advice won’t make you go viral, but it can help you find your people. Start by talking about where you are in your writing journey. Even if you believe there are too many cooks in the kitchen, I guarantee
someone who shares your identity, background, or genre wants to hear from you. Share what you know, even if you don’t know much starting out.

Next, as you’re sharing and exploring the community, you might become overwhelmed by the amount of advice that isn’t meant for you. You know the advice:

• You must write every day.
• Don’t use adverbs, using one filler word will destroy your draft.
• No prologues, first person is best, third person is best, etc.

I’m sure you’ve heard more. But it’s totally fine to cast off advice that doesn’t work for you, and it can be beneficial to hear why people subscribe to such advice, and maybe you can use that advice and shape it into something useful. For example, author Susan DiRende, talked about some advice they heard, that if you want to be successful you have to make your bed every day. She chuckled at the advice at first, but then realized she could apply some of it. So, instead of bedmaking, she chose to move her morning dishwashing chore to the night before and talked about how, over time, that small accomplishment helped move her creative juices. What’s something you could do to get the muse flowing? I can tell you one thing that can help: you don’t have to follow every piece of advice you hear. Especially on big platforms like TikTok.

Lastly, don’t be afraid to take the first step in building the community you want to belong in. Like most good things in life, opportunities aren’t just going to fall into your lap. It’s true that community can be built anywhere, but sometimes you have to step out of your comfort zone to reap the benefits. Seeking out and surrounding yourself with future forward-thinking people will enrich your creative spirit and open doors that previously seemed sealed shut. There are still plenty of authors on every level, editors, and agents giving freely to the community. Not to mention what can be learned from book professionals like audiobook narrators, book reviewers, and booksellers who also form communities on TikTok.

Your experiences at your current place in your writing journey matter, and your fellow authors want to hear from you, even if you’re not the expert. Sharing helps build communities that can grow stronger together and TikTok might just be the place to find your next online community.

About the Author

Blair Cousins is the author of the science fiction trilogy Ceapeaya’s Awakening and publisher of A Day in the Life of Cats coloring book series. She is a writer of many science fiction, fantasy, and horror stories and an avid traveler who is dedicated to learning all she can to forge stories that fuel both the mind and imagination.

Thoughts fumble and rattle and dance around in my head. A story unfolds as I sort my laundry, make my bed, and drive to work. Worlds develop with witty characters and complex problems and surprising resolutions. I’ll jot down a line or two in my phone, an idea in a notebook in an effort to put a pin in it. The thoughts are quick and slippery though, gone as soon as I’m done smirking to myself. Or if I do catch them and manage to pen them onto paper, their glitter and shine seem to fade all too quickly. The story that so seamlessly came together in my mind doesn’t translate to page. I stare at the words and wonder what is missing, what I’m forgetting, where the wit and complexity escaped me.

Is it me? Am I not the right vehicle for this? Maybe the wiring in me has loosened from my head to my fingers. Maybe years of trying to simply be an adult female have taken a toll on concentration and patience. Maybe years of trying to be more practical has actually hurt my imagination. I simply must sit. Just sit and do. But the chair is uncomfortable and that light is too bright. I simply must buy a cushion and adjust the lamp. Now I can sit. All I have to do is type. So I try. I type and I type and I delete and I delete. If this were a children’s book there would be a beat.

She wrote and wrote
She created a boat
And sailed in a sea of words that float
Bundling up in a coat,
With a net, trying to catch what she wrote.

But these are just words bouncing in my head. Focus, focus. I know I have things to say and stories to share. The computer stares blankly at me asking me why I even try. I’m thirsty. I wander to the kitchen to sip on some water. I try not to get distracted by the television in the living room or the notifications on my phone. Discipline is something I admire from afar. Something other people seem to have. Successful people. I know I can be disciplined too if I would just sit down and write.

I finish my water and wander back to my seat where my computer is waiting for me. Somewhere in the distance, across this city, perhaps an editor is also standing by. I imagine somewhere in the future, an older version of me twiddles her thumbs and rolls her eyes as time ticks by and my current self wastes it. The truth is that the desire to capture thoughts and the pressure of future goals soon become too great to ignore so I begin.

Words start to flow into coherent thoughts, thoughts I had seemingly misplaced earlier. Like a cat trying to find a lap to sit on, my thoughts had been waiting for this page to rest on. They come out when I am finally still and purr happily along the page as I sit longer and longer. All they were waiting for was me.

About the Author

Meghan McPherson grew up in Centreville, Virginia before studying English Literature and Creative Writing at Virginia Tech. She is now a teacher who shares her passion for reading, writing, and the English language with her middle schoolers. When she is not at school or walking around the city, Meghan can be found reading and writing on her couch with her two cats, Birdie and Gigi.

I recently started watching Game of Thrones—yes, I know I’m way late to the party—and something said in the first episode stood out to me. Jon Snow was born a bastard and believed himself to be inferior to his half-siblings.

“Let me give you some advice, bastard,” a dwarf named Tyrion Lannister says to him. “Never forget what you are…wear it like armor. And it can never be used to hurt you.”

Those words remind me of my writing journey. I was in tenth grade the first time I said I was going to write a book. It got scrapped after a few pages. I tried again in twelfth grade—that one fizzled after about thirty pages. Two more attempts came and went with similar results. It’s not that I didn’t have a story idea, it’s that the words on the page didn’t feel authentic. Then, in the summer of 2013, I decided to take another stab at it, but this time, I did something different.

Growing up, there was manipulation and emotional abuse in the house. My parents constantly fought. And if my dad did something nice for me, my mom would find a way to belittle me in retaliation. It was a lose-lose situation, and sometimes emotional neglect was the better option. On top of that, when I was between the ages of five and eight, I was molested by a neighbor. A year later, I saw a commercial that told kids it was wrong and to tell an adult if it happened. I thought it was too late because we had moved 1,500 miles away. So, for years, that secret haunted me in silence.

To cope with my trauma, I created this complex imaginary world. It was my escape. My safe place. It housed my dreams of being truly loved. My fantasies of being someone else. It guarded my deepest desires and secret wishes. My mind resided there 24/7. At school. Home. Church. Everywhere. I was playing pretend in my mind. I was never me, including my name—which, by the way, was not Amélie. And nobody knew it. But that was how I coped, how I survived.

When I first started writing, my imaginary world was off-limits. It was private. I had dreams people wouldn’t understand. Fantasies that could be judged in the harshest of ways. I couldn’t risk my safe place being ridiculed. So, I kept it locked up from the world. Protected.

But in doing so, all of my heart—my passion—was also constrained. And as a result, my writing came off as flat. I couldn’t have my characters think, believe, or do something outrageous. I was so worried someone would read my work and say, “Oh my God, that’s what goes on in her mind? She has some serious ‘daddy’ issues.” The ultimate judgment. Ridicule. I was afraid to be vulnerable.

But in the summer of 2013, my fifth attempt at writing a book, I held my breath and tapped into my imaginary world. Like magic, my characters came to life. The good. The bad. And definitely the ugly. I still had a lot of craft and technique I needed to learn, but my characters now had heart. Passion. They were flawed and exposed. My imagination was naked and unprotected from the judgment of others.

Judgment. That leads to rejection. Ostracism. That’s a really scary thought. But to me, something even scarier is never allowing the stories in my head to come to fruition because of my fear of persecution. The protagonist in my first manuscript dealt with abandonment, body image, and trust issues. Allowing access to the most sensitive parts of my heart made her more genuine, but it also gave me confidence. Courage to step out on a limb. The knowledge that no matter what anyone says or thinks, I know I’m a good writer. Wearing my past, my trauma, my name change…my “daddy issues” like armor made me stronger. Because when you embrace what you consider to be your greatest defect, using Tyrion Lannister’s words, “It can never be used to hurt you.”

About the Author

Amélie Corner is a young adult fantasy and contemporary writer. Make-believe has always been a part of her life. It’s what got her through childhood trauma. And while the stories she writes are fiction, the emotional responses of the characters have very real roots. Self-loathing ran rampant, so much so that she cringed every time she heard her birth name. In 2014 she took charge and legally changed it. A new name and a new start on the path to self-love. Amélie is currently wrapping up her latest manuscript and jotting down notes from other characters in her head, demanding their stories be told. Relatively new to Virginia, when not writing, she enjoys exploring Richmond and Williamsburg with her husband and four children, taking her two dogs out on trails, and wine tasting.