 We were both so green then
in the heat of summer when we reach for that blue sky, tendrils and hopes flung high. Now we've both turned sour and grayer by the hour. We in our paler versions-- after the autumn incursions which bared the country's perversions-- fear this wicked excursion of moral retroversion. But you remind us of what is good, and what can be if we only would unite to remove the rot of the trump-musk Gordian knot. I'm sorry, pickles, that this has turned out to be more of a lament than an ode to you.
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I used to like Goodreads as a way to keep track of books I read...that was 20 years ago. But shortly before it was bought by Amazon, I noticed that the app wasn't working as well as it used to. Plus, there were all sorts of problematic bullying and other weird issues. And then Amazon bought it. Not only did nothing improve but now it has the stain of Bezos (anyone else think "The Stain of Bezos" makes a great title to a horror story?) I'd tried twice to go with my own spreadsheet, and that works pretty well when I remember to do it. But when I read this article on The Guardian about a Black-owned alternative, I knew I had found a good alternative to Goodreads.  StoryGraph, here I come!
Anyone else on there? It's such an honor to be interviewed by the multi-talented Dr. Diane who created the Adventures in Learning podcast where she showcases authors, scientists, educators, and more.  Here's a description of the episode that I'm on that releases today:
What do starry nebula, Bruce Lee, and disgustingly cool science facts have in common? They are all products of the creative mind of author Teresa 何 Robeson. In this episode, we welcome back Teresa Robeson, a busy author with a rich background in science and storytelling. Teresa unveils her upcoming books, including Clear and Bright: A Ching Ming Festival Story; Disgustology: The Science of Gross; and a graphic biography, Who Smashed Hollywood Barriers with Gung Fu?: Bruce Lee. Teresa shares insights into the art of storytelling through visuals and the collaborative process of bringing science and historical moments to life. Our discussion ventures into the mesmerizing realms of astronomy and science literature, with highlights from NASA's stunning imagery that fueled her recent book, Clouds in Space: Nebulae, Stardust, and Us. We also delve into the importance of diverse narratives, cultural acceptance, and the role of literature in building empathy. Plus there's a fun lightning fill in the break taken from listener questions (What language does Teresa speak to her chickens? What are the most disgusting facts she hasn't written about yet?) This episode celebrates diverse narratives, cultural tales, building our empathy muscles, and the transformative power of storytelling. Download on all podcast platforms, YouTube, or https://www.buzzsprout.com/2019975/episodes/16730026 On the one hand, with the country in complete chaos, I feel like this is a terrible time to have a book launch. On the other hand, because of the hateful lunacy that is going on, there's probably no better time to remind people that this country belongs to all immigrants (and honestly, the country belongs to NO immigrants either since we are all squatting on land stolen from the Indigenous population who was here first). But since we immigrants are here, let's celebrate our unique identities and our place in North American history. Today is the Ching Ming (also known as Qing Ming or Qing Ming in Mandarin) Festival. It's been celebrated by the Chinese for over 2,500 years. My fond memories of celebrating it as a child in Hong Kong have never faded over the past five plus decades, and some years ago, I wrote a story that incorporated my warm, fuzzy feelings about it with a fictional Chinese family that had lived in America for several generations. It's the story of my heart but it took a while for the right people in publishing to appreciate it. Author and historian, Leonard Marcus, wrote some very kind words about the story which ended up winning Silver in the Astra International Picture Book Competition, and it was ultimately bought by Astra Young Readers for publication.  Astra found the most incredible illustrator for the story. William Low is a fine artist whose work is evocative and dreamy. He completely elevated the story and breathed such life into the characters.
One of my all time favorite poems is about Ching Ming (清明). Written by the poet 杜枚, who lived in the late Tang Dynasty, it goes: 清明時節雨紛紛， 路上行人欲斷魂。 借問酒家何處有， 牧童遙指杏花村。 There's a translation for the poem as well as a short video of a cute kid reciting it on the Cantonese for Families site. If you want to find out more about this very cool holiday, you can check out this brief Smithsonian article, or read my book, CLEAR AND BRIGHT, which comes out today to coincide with Ching Ming! I got goosebumps the first time I listened to We Can't Make It Here by James McMurtry. And I got goosebumps the 142nd time I listened to it (just last night). Mr. McMurtry wrote the song in 2005 when the lyrics were apropos. Sadly, 20 years later, it's only gotten more relevant since the November election. I feel like this genius man is the modern day Cassandra and America has let in the wooden horse.  "The simple fact is that James McMurtry may be the truest, fiercest songwriter of his generation..." - Stephen King | Entertainment Weekly Read the lyrics, listen to the song, and weep for human greed and stupidity.
There's a Vietnam vet with a cardboard sign Sitting there by the left turn line The flag on his wheelchair flapping in the breeze One leg missing and both hands free No one's paying much mind to him The V.A. budget's just stretched so thin And now there' s more coming back from the Mideast war We can't make it here anymore And that big ol' building was the textile mill That fed our kids and it paid our bills But they turned us out and they closed the doors 'Cause we can' t make it here anymore You see those pallets piled up on the loading dock They're just gonna sit there 'til they rot 'Cause there's nothing to ship, nothing to pack Just busted concrete and rusted tracks Empty storefronts around the square There's a needle in the gutter and glass everywhere You don't come down here unless you're looking to score We can't make it here anymore The bar's still open but man it's slow The tip jar's light and the register's low The bartender don't have much to say The regular crowd gets thinner each day Some have maxed out all their credit cards Some are working two jobs and living in cars Minimum wage won't pay for a roof, won't pay for a drink If you gotta have proof just try it yourself, Mr. CEO See how far $5.15 an hour will go Take a part time job at one your stores I bet you can't make it here anymore There's a high school girl with a bourgeois dream Just like the pictures in the magazine She found on the floor of the laundromat A woman with kids can forget all that If she comes up pregnant what'll she do Forget the career and forget about school Can she live on faith? Live on hope? High on Jesus or hooked on dope When it's way too late to just say no You can't make it here anymore Now I'm stocking shirts in the Wal-Mart store Just like the ones we made before 'Cept this one came from Singapore I guess we can't make it here anymore Should I hate a people for the shade of their skin Or the shape of their eyes or the shape I'm in Should I hate 'em for having our jobs today No, I hate the men sent the jobs away I can see them all now, they haunt my dreams All lily white and squeaky clean They've never known want, they'll never know need Their shit don't stink and their kids won't bleed Their kids won't bleed in their damn little war And we can't make it here anymore Will work for food, will die for oil Will kill for power, and to us the spoils The billionaires get to pay less tax The working poor get to fall through the cracks So let 'em eat jellybeans let 'em eat cake Let 'em eat shit, whatever it takes They can join the Air Force or join the Corps If they can't make it here anymore So that's how it is, that's what we got If the president wants to admit it or not You can read it in the paper, read it on the wall Hear it on the wind if you're listening at all Get out of that limo, look us in the eye Call us on the cell phone, tell us all why In Dayton, Ohio or Portland, Maine Or a cotton gin out on the great high plains That's done closed down, along with the school And the hospital, and the swimming pool Dust devils dance in the noonday heat There's rats in the alley and trash in the street Gang graffiti on a boxcar door We can't make it here anymore As I've mentioned in previous posts, I participate in a fun challenge called #HaikuSaturday. It was started on the platform formerly known as Twitter, but is played on other social media as well. I prefer to stick with Bluesky myself. I don't just post a poem, either; I try to engage, too. I share, and sometimes reply to, the posts by friends and people who follow me. For those whom I'm not "friends" with, I Like at least one of their poem per Saturday (some of them crank them out like widgets, which rather makes me suspect that not as much thought has been put into each poem...more like dumping out the contents of a cupboard and calling it dinner than crafting a fine meal with fresh ingredients and care). Anyway, while looking at other people's poems, I saw this indignant reply:  That skewed and rigid thinking is often found in those who are not of Japanese heritage trying to write haiku and asserting their (non) authority. I'll be the first to admit, I was rather militant like that, too, when I was younger and thought I knew better. (It's so true that the more you actually know, the more you realize you don't know...I suppose that is the anti-Dunning-Kruger-effect?)
But you know what? Many people who think they know haiku don't truly, aside from the 5-7-5 rule. According to the Poetry Foundation (and also Encyclopedia Britannica), "....the form originates from the Japanese hokku, or the opening section of a longer renga sequence. In this context, the hokku served to begin a longer poem by establishing a season, often with a pair of seasonal images." While I still mentally count the syllable, these days, as I become better-read (and hopefully wiser in my old age), I remind myself that Japanese (like Chinese) words and syllables don't correspond to English ones and to stop being so damned rigid as though I'm on the autistic spectrum and can't help myself (my younger child is, so I know about all that; and if you also are and need to count syllables, you do you, my friend! I'm just side-eyeing the erroneously pedantic). As Jun Fujita, a poet I greatly admire, wrote in 1922, "The so-called oriental influence in western literature today, I am afraid, is taking the form it has assumed in the other arts, which, to a great extent, have adopted the carcass of Japanese pictures and missed the essence." If he could give us a word of advice today, I get the feeling he'd advise us to go with the spirit of the origin haiku--invoking seasons--rather than engage in bean counting. For more about the looser haiku, check out this article on Medium. Yesterday was International Day of Women and Girls in Science, which is always a good excuse to celebrate one of the most amazing women in science: Wu Chien Shiung. Dr. Wu was born in a small town in China, but immigrated to the United States to do a Ph.D. in physics and then stayed to become a professor and researcher. Despite the racism and sexism she faced in America, she became one of the most renowned and revered scientists of her day. Top physicists like Richard Feynman and Enrico Fermi sought her out to perform experiments that backed up their theories and therefore helped them win the Nobel Prize. Sadly, like so many notable women, she did not win one herself. In addition, during World War II, she was part of the Los Alamos group that helped to win the war. Most media, like the film Oppenheimer, do not generally include her and her efforts. In her later years, she conducted research to help people who suffered from sickle cell anemia, as well as funded initiatives to train girls in the fields of science.
Her contributions were honored posthumously by a commemorative postage stamp! Immigrants such as Wu enriched, and, yes, even save, the United States. This country would be so much worse off if not for those like her. To learn more about Professor Wu, read Queen of Physics and check out the other resources on my website. (Unfortunately, when nonfiction books are talked about, those on immigrants, and their experiences and contributions, are still largely ignored, as in this example below.)  Barnes&Noble is running a huge preorder sale from February 5th to 7th! If you want to preorder any of my books that will be released this year and get 25% off, join their free rewards program and use the code PREORDER25 at checkout! Click on the following links to be taken to the B&N pages: CLEAR AND BRIGHT: A CHING MING FESTIVAL STORY (March 4, 2025; Astra Young Readers) WHO SMASHED HOLLYWOOD BARRIERS WITH GUNG FU? BRUCE LEE (March 18, 2025; Penguin Workshop) DISGUSTOLOGY: THE SCIENCE OF GROSS (July 15, 2025; Odd Dot/Macmillan)  I pouted about going to the SCBWI Winter Conference because I didn't want to travel or get up early or talk to people. But, just like at the NCTE Conference I attended in November, I ended up having a blast and making good connections. The flights were smooth (both the getting through airport security and the flying), and I only had to get up early 2 of the 3 mornings. Plus, despite being worn out by social interactions, I actually enjoy chatting with people. I even hug total strangers (I almost hugged the flight attendant on the flight home).
The room at the Midtown Hilton was spacious and the view out the window was not too shabby. Even better, I ate lots of really good food, like this French cream donut at Le Pain Quotidian for instance.  I will have more photos of food and the conference in my next newsletter, so sign up for that if you want to see them! While it was nice to forget a little bit about democracy crumbling around us, I couldn't (none of us could, really) completely put it out of our minds. I wore this ring which served as a constant reminder.  You see, this ring was given to me by one of my mother-in-law's best friends. Louise's family was from Germany, and although they weren't Jewish, when Hitler rose to power, they knew they needed to flee the madness. So her father converted a lot of their money to jewelry so it would be easier to escape with. She gave the ring to me because she felt a bond with me as we are both immigrant brides to the U.S.
I think of Louise whenever I wear it, and, now, I also think about how sad she would be, if she were still alive, by the fact that America is turning into the fascist Germany of her youth. It's the Year of the Snake!  Unlike human "snakes" who are slimy, untrustworthy, and currently in the US government (that shaking beneath our feet is the Constitution writers collectively rolling over in their graves), real snakes are helpful, gentle (yes, ask how many run-ins we have had with even the venomous ones and have never been harmed), and will never try to con you. Oh, have I digressed? Sorry.  While the Lunar New Year is extremely important to Chinese people, there is another holiday that is possibly as ancient and significant to us. This holiday is Ching Ming (in Cantonese; Qing Ming in Mandarin). It means so much to me that I wrote a picture book about it. I was going to talk more about Ching Ming in this blog post but, surprise, I ran out of time and I'm currently frantically getting ready to go to the SCBWI Winter Conference, so the blog post will have to wait. In the meantime, if you're also stressing over current events like many of us sane folks are, head to Beth Stillborn's blog to see on what books authors (including me) turn to when they are anxious.
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