We can’t always understand the things that scare us, but scary stories are the safest places to experience our fears again and again, as many times as it takes for them to become comfortably familiar.
Every time I write and illustrate a new adventure for Marisol, I’m reaching back thirty-five years, whispering to a younger version of myself, saying: You are not invisible. You are not alone.
The Sea Knows My Name asks how our stories shape us. It asks us what happens when all our stories are about Zeus rather than Leda; Apollo rather than Daphne; Ajax rather than Cassandra.
I don’t think I’ll ever forget the things Hazmat has taught me, I don’t think I want to: I love thinking of book plots (and life!) without a beginning, middle, and end…but, instead, seeing moments and days as a wild quilt flashing by, a horizon that keeps opening and expanding …on and on.
While I wish I could say that burnout can be solved by writing a book, it can’t. But it was a good start and helped me realize how much I love education and teaching. It helped me find my way back to what I love.
During the middle school years, kids are in different phases of development, navigating puberty, exploring their identities, and transitioning from childhood into young adulthood. To say a lot is going on would be an understatement.
My debut novel, Hello, Goodbye, has many elements at play— adventure, mystery, humor, and romance—but, at its core, lies a love story. But the great love of this tale isn’t romantic love, but rather the pure, unconditional love shared between a grandparent and grandchild.