Writing With Diversity

Sorry for the unintentionally long hiatus! I know I’ve been a little quiet around here lately, mostly due to dealing with school and COVID stress and whatnot. When my finals wrap up in a few weeks, I fully intend to return to this blog and tackle the backlog of asks in my inbox (though I will remind you that @writingwithcolor, where I’m also a mod, is always the best resource for race-related questions).

In the meantime, if you’ve ever found any of my advice helpful, please consider throwing a couple dollars my way at https://ko-fi.com/svnflowers if you have the means. I run this blog for free on my own time and plan to continue doing as such for the foreseeable future but a little financial compensation for my work never hurts. 

If you hadn’t noticed, my hiatus has gone on a bit longer than I would’ve liked and I’ve been pretty absent the past few months. However, I’m trying to get back into Tumblr once I wrap up the school year so hopefully I’ll be much more active this summer.

As a gentle reminder, this work will always remain free but if you’ve ever found my advice helpful, I would love your financial support over at ko-fi.com/svnflowers.

Thanks for following y’all and I hope to talk more soon!

Leigh Bardugo–author of the Grishaverse books, Ninth House, and more–recently took to her newsletter to discuss writing advice and answer frequently asked questions. Below is an excerpt from her newsletter centered around writing about and from personal trauma.

The question:

From S: Re: newsletter requests, I’d love to see more about how you tiptoe between writing what you know and being vulnerable in your writing without…exploiting your own vulnerabilities? I don’t know if this is too personal, but I know you’ve talked about how you wrote from your experience with an abusive relationship in the Grishaverse. I want to write about deeply personal things, like social anxiety, depression, and becoming a caretaker at 22, but how can I do so in a healthy way? Basically, how do you write about difficult subject matters without retraumatizing yourself?

Leigh Bardugo’s response:

Hi S, Thank you so much for this question. I think some of my best writing has come from exploring the difficult parts of my past, but it is definitely delicate business. Writing can be therapeutic but it isn’t a substitute for actual therapy, so my first suggestion is to make sure that you’re caring for yourself as you step into something creative. That can mean making sure you’re getting fresh air and rest and good food and it can also mean making sure you have the psychological support you need if you’re going digging in a minefield. That said, trust yourself. In the act of writing fiction, you’re going to create characters who can and will do things you cannot. They can be tougher or more vulnerable, more vengeful or more forgiving, but they should exist at a step removed. You are not writing memoir, you are taking a core emotion or experience and using it to anchor your characters. After that, they start surprising you. So actively create characters who are NOT like you. Create a buffer so that you’re free to explore the darkest, strangest, ugliest things without feeling like you’re putting yourself through those things. I like to say that each Crow represents some facet of me, but none of them are me and that means they’re free to go through so much more. You have experiences that may sometimes feel isolating, but by sharing them through fiction, you’re going to find yourself connected to so many readers who will be grateful for these stories. And if you start to find yourself depressed or anxious, take a step back. Make a plan with friends. Start a side project that’s all silliness or romantic banter. I wish you all of the luck.

Leigh Bardugo–author of the Grishaverse books, Ninth House, and more–recently took to her newsletter to discuss writing advice and answer frequently asked questions. Below is an excerpt from her newsletter centered around writing about and from personal trauma.

The question:

From S: Re: newsletter requests, I’d love to see more about how you tiptoe between writing what you know and being vulnerable in your writing without…exploiting your own vulnerabilities? I don’t know if this is too personal, but I know you’ve talked about how you wrote from your experience with an abusive relationship in the Grishaverse. I want to write about deeply personal things, like social anxiety, depression, and becoming a caretaker at 22, but how can I do so in a healthy way? Basically, how do you write about difficult subject matters without retraumatizing yourself?

Leigh Bardugo’s response:

Hi S, Thank you so much for this question. I think some of my best writing has come from exploring the difficult parts of my past, but it is definitely delicate business. Writing can be therapeutic but it isn’t a substitute for actual therapy, so my first suggestion is to make sure that you’re caring for yourself as you step into something creative. That can mean making sure you’re getting fresh air and rest and good food and it can also mean making sure you have the psychological support you need if you’re going digging in a minefield. That said, trust yourself. In the act of writing fiction, you’re going to create characters who can and will do things you cannot. They can be tougher or more vulnerable, more vengeful or more forgiving, but they should exist at a step removed. You are not writing memoir, you are taking a core emotion or experience and using it to anchor your characters. After that, they start surprising you. So actively create characters who are NOT like you. Create a buffer so that you’re free to explore the darkest, strangest, ugliest things without feeling like you’re putting yourself through those things. I like to say that each Crow represents some facet of me, but none of them are me and that means they’re free to go through so much more. You have experiences that may sometimes feel isolating, but by sharing them through fiction, you’re going to find yourself connected to so many readers who will be grateful for these stories. And if you start to find yourself depressed or anxious, take a step back. Make a plan with friends. Start a side project that’s all silliness or romantic banter. I wish you all of the luck.

Watch: A documentary is explaining the many ways movies, TV shows and ads makes fat people feel cursed and invisible

When you only see yourself depicted on the screen as a sidekick, a villain, a predator, or a joke, how does that affect the way you view yourself in real life?

Gifs: Fattitude

Hello, thanks for reaching out!

First off, the usual disclaimer: I’m not Jewish in any sense of the term--culturally, religiously, or ethnically--so this advice is very much written from the perspective of an interested outsider with a moderate understanding of modern religions and a heavy interest in research. As always, Jewish people’s thoughts and responses to this subject take precedence over mine. So keep that in mind as you read on.

I want to ask you how you’re defining “Jewish ethnicity.” In modern parlance, we most often use “ethnically Jewish” when referring to Ashkenazi Jews, who make up a large majority of the world’s Jewish population and traditionally trace their roots back to Germany and the Central European area. Alternatively, people may be referring to Sephardi Jews who trace their heritage back to the Spanish/Portuguese peninsula. Many recently-diasporic Jews (that is, Jews who’ve immigrated within a generation or two) can trace their heritage back to one of these two groups. 

However, as you may have noticed both of these communities are focused in or can trace their roots back to Europe. Since religion is hardly bound by geographic or continental borders, there are of course ethnic Jewish communities elsewhere. Occasionally, the term “Mizrahi Jews” is used when discussing Jewish communities who’ve resided in the MENA more or less continuously over the past few thousand years; however, I’ve found that this term rarely makes it into our modern cultural discussions of Jewish ethnicity.

On top of that, some Jewish communities of similar longevity reside in scattered locations across the globe. For example, there are numerous Jewish communities in Asia that are thousands of years old yet aren’t traditionally included in the discussion of ethnic Jewishness and are more often counted as diasporic populations. And to make things even more complicated, globalized immigration over the past hundred years--most often from Europe to elsewhere--have led to new Jewish communities springing up or to existing Jewish communities experiencing unexpected population booms. Though they don’t fall into the traditional Jewish ethnic categories, many of these communities have at this point identified as Jewish for several generations.  Additionally, ethnics Jews will of course often have dramatically different experiences depending on where they are in the world. Other than their shared religion, a Sabra Jew in Israel might have very little in common with an Orthodox Jew from New York or an immigrant Jew in Peru. 

So as you can see, the idea of ethnic Jewishness alone is quite complicated and there are, perhaps unsurprisingly, entire books written on the subject. It would be hard to generalize an “ethnically Jewish” experience, let alone provide overly generalized tips on how you might go about writing an ethnically Jewish character. 

If you’re interested in writing an ethnically Jewish character who belongs to one of these communities, my only advice at this point would be to read as much from #ownvoices ethnically Jewish authors as possible. Read books, short stories, blogs--whatever you can get your hands on. Since it seems like you may just be exploring this topic for the first time, reading about #ownvoices Jewish experiences will help you get a better understanding of the Venn Diagram between characters (and real life people!) who identify as Jewish culturally, religiously, or ethnically.

Once you’ve done that, with regards to actually writing Jewish characters, Writing With Color has several fantastic guides:

Writing Jewish Characters and What to Avoid

Writing Secular American Jewish Characters

Establishing a Character as Jewish Through Actions

On a side note: I’m currently reading Zealot: The Life and Times of Jesus of Nazareth by Reza Aslan and I really appreciate the sociopolitical context around the rise of Christianity and its split with Judaism. There are lots of very valid criticisms of Aslan’s work floating around on the internet that, for the most part, make very good points about how his Gospel citations are cherry-picked. However, as someone who knew only the basic history of early Christianity, I think the book is a good jumping off point for additional research. I’m only halfway through but there’s been a pretty good discussion of the persecution of Jewish people in the centuries before and after Jesus’s historical time period. I’ve found that it provides really great context on the issue of a Jewish homeland and Jewish ethnicity. 

@uwumars replied: this is offensive

What more is there to fear when you’ve already faced governments who have tried for centuries to wipe you out, who have used biological warfare and forced starvation to create apocalypse for your people?

It’s remarkable to consider that many non-Indigenous horror writers depict situations that Indigenous people have already weathered — such as apocalyptic viral outbreaks that decimate whole populations — or use the history of genocidal violence against us to explain why innocent white folks are being haunted today, such as in Stephen King’s It or the 1982 film Poltergeist. In fact, I’m not sure what scares non-Indigenous horror writers and readers more: experiencing variations of what Indigenous folks have already endured for centuries, or the reality that they have built their entire country on literal Indian burial grounds.

Indigenous writers, on the other hand, acknowledge the mundane horror of living in a country that dehumanizes you, weaving the reality of Indigenous life with fiction to scare audiences. In Waubgeshig Rice’s Moon of the Crusted Snow, for example, the apocalyptic event that ends life as we know it — taking out power, internet, phones, satellites, etc. — isn’t even really noticed as an apocalyptic event at first; it’s just another day on a northern rez, where power can go out at any time and internet and phone signals aren’t always available. As Nick, a young Anishinaabe man, points out, “We thought it was kinda funny…The blackout was only two days, but it seemed like some people were already freaking out a little bit. I was just like, ‘Come to the rez, this shit happens all the time!’” Once it becomes apparent that things have changed forever, the protagonist Evan observes that “the milestones he [now] used to mark time were the deaths in the community…as people perished through sickness, mishap, violence or by their own hands.” He notes that northern reserves like his are “familiar with tragedy,” the result of generations of intergenerational trauma and genocide — only now this tragedy is magnified.

Similarly, Jeff Barnaby’s new movie Blood Quantum takes the real-life horror of Indigenous history and plugs it into a zombie horror film. In Barnaby’s film, a zombie virus ravages a non-Indigenous community that borders a reserve; the only thing that saves the Indigenous community from the same fate is their apparent immunity to that virus. The community’s decision to take in non-Native survivors, who may turn into zombies and kill their people, is a fraught one for the film’s characters. Considering the devastation viruses carried by white settlers have historically wrought on Indigenous communities — the 1862 smallpox epidemic is estimated to have cut the First Nations population in what’s now known as British Columbia in half — it’s not hard to understand why.

In her bestselling book The Marrow Thieves, Cherie Dimaline used the real history of residential schools to create a terrifying post-apocalyptic world where Indigenous children are hunted and harvested for their bone marrow. Her latest novel, Empire of Wild, similarly uses the Métis tale of the Rogarou to tell a story of religion and resource extraction. The Rogarou was originally a story told to young Indigenous children, particularly girls, to keep them from the roads near the edge of their communities, where white men would pick them up and they’d end up missing or murdered. They scared their children in an attempt to keep them alive.

[CONTINUE READING]

Title: The Theft of Sunlight Author: Intisar Khanani Genres: Fantasy, Mystery Pages: 528 Publisher: HarperTeen Review Copy: ARC received from author Availability: Available now

Summary: I did not choose this fate. But I will not walk away from it.

Children have been disappearing from across Menaiya for longer than Amraeya ni Ansarim can remember. When her friend’s sister is snatched, Rae knows she can’t look away any longer - even if that means seeking answers from the royal court, where her country upbringing and clubfoot will only invite ridicule.

Yet the court holds its share of surprises. There she discovers an ally in the foreign princess, who recruits her as an attendant. Armed with the princess’s support, Rae seeks answers in the dark city streets, finding unexpected help in a rough-around-the-edges street thief with secrets of his own. But treachery runs deep, and the more Rae uncovers, the more she endangers the kingdom itself.

Review: [This book contains violence against women, human trafficking, physical and emotional abuse, and ableism.]

I came into THE THEFT OF SUNLIGHT without having read the earlier companion book, THORN. (Technically, THEFT is the first part of a companion duology, and thank goodness, because THEFT ends on a magnificent cliffhanger.) And while I occasionally realized that I was missing a deeper undercurrent to some of the subplots in THEFT because of it, THEFT still stood on its own as a compelling story.

Our heroine, Rae, is clever, brave, and driven in her hunt to uncover the truth behind the “snatchers” plaguing the kingdom and stealing children. She also has to navigate the various intrigues and tests of character going on at court—starting before she’s even officially hired. One of the things I love most about Rae is her willingness to examine her own thoughts and feelings. There is a scene later in the book, which I won’t spoil, that centers on her questioning an action she took and deciding that she does not want to be the kind of person who would do that again. I love characters who spend the time to think about what they’ve done, what they’re doing, and why they’re doing it.

As noted at the top of the review, THEFT deals with some difficult subjects. The driving plot with the snatchers revolves around human trafficking, and several important subplots include violence against women and physical/emotional abuse. Rae also encounters ableism throughout the book because of her clubfoot. This comes on an individual level where characters assume she is incapable of X physical activity without asking what she is able to do, but it also extends to a societal level where she is aware of how unlikely it is that she’ll ever get married. I felt that these topics were handled respectfully, but I am not an expert in any of them. Readers should be aware of these topics going into THEFT if they are interested in reading the book.

Author Intisar Khanani has populated the rest of Rae’s world with a fantastic cast. I especially liked Princess Alyrra, Prince Kestrin, and Bren. Alyrra and Kestrin’s interactions with Rae were fascinating—even the times when I was incredibly frustrated at them on Rae’s behalf. Bren and Rae’s start toward a possible romance plot was also fun, if a tad unsurprising. I hope that Khanani will dive more into Bren’s past (and I’m assuming the many not-good things he did in that past) in the next book before a romance can go any further.

Recommendation: Get it soon, especially if you like mysteries in fantasy settings. Author Intisar Khanani has creating a fascinating mystery and a delightful heroine who is determined to get to the bottom of it all, no matter how high the conspiracy goes. THE THEFT OF SUNLIGHT is part of a rich world and populated with interesting characters. If you’re looking for a long fantasy read this summer, this would be an excellent choice.

Extras:

The Theft of Sunlight Sneak Peek at Epic Reads (first three chapters)

palestine children’s relief fund: provide urgent humanitarian care for children in gaza

anera: provide on-the-ground emergency relief

united nations relief and works agency: food assistance and emergency physical+mental help

medical aid for palestinians: emergency relief for women and children, psychosocial support, disability help, other medical needs

doctors without borders: medical teams on the ground treating injured palestinians as needed

feel free to add on in the notes, notify me if any of the fundraisers listed arent necessary/actually helpful to donate to, and let me know if anything needs added on/modified

Nice Jewish Girls, a lesbian anthology edited by Evelyn Torton Beck

Twice Blessed, edited by Christie Balka and Andy Rose

Queer Jews, edited by David Shneer and Caryn Aviv

Mentsh: On Being Jewish and Queer, edited by Angela Brown

Found Tribe, edited by Lawrence Schimel

Balancing on the Mechitza: Transgender in the Jewish Community, edited by Noach Dzmura

Between Sodom and Eden, by Lee Walzer

God vs. Gay?: The Religious Case for Equality, by Jay Michaelson

Through the Door of Life: A Jewish Journey Between Genders, by Joy Ladin

Blood, Marriage, Wine, and Glitter, by S. Bear Bergman

Keep Your Wives Away from Them: Orthodox Women, Unorthodox Desires, edited by  Miryam Kabakov

Torah Queeries: Weekly Commentaries on the Hebrew Bible, edited by  Gregg Drinkwater, Joshua Lesser and David Shneer

Kulanu (All of Us): A Program & Resource Guide for Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual & Transgender Inclusion, by Richard F. Address, Joel L. Kushner, and Geoffrey Mitelman

Judaism and Homosexuality: An Authentic Orthodox View, by Rabbi Chaim Rapoport

Queer Theory and the Jewish Question, edited by Daniel Boyarin, Daniel Itzkovitz, and Ann Pellegrini

Queering the Text: Biblical, Medieval, and Modern Jewish Stories, by Andrew Ramer

The Passing Game: Queering Jewish American Culture, by Warren Hoffman

Wrestling with God and Men: Homosexuality in the Jewish Tradition, by Rabbi Steven Greeberg

Like Bread on the Seder Plate: Jewish Lesbians and the Transformation of Tradition, by Rebecca Alpert

This list doesn’t include all the memoirs, all the fiction short story collections. They’re mostly books I’ve read— some of them, like “Like Bread on a Seder Plate” and “Queer Jews” I grew up with, others, like “Torah Queeries” and “Keep Your Wives Away From Them” I read on my own time. They range from Orthodox to Reconstructionist to Reform, and encompass a variety of ways of tangling with Jewish tradition.