Congratulations, Father Uwem!

Remember when I told you to go read, Say You're One of Them? (It was the first anniversary of my preventive mastectomy and I marked it by going to Father Uwem's reading at Boston College.)

And then I interviewed the author for The Rumpus? I guess Oprah liked his collection, too.

Big congratulations to Father Uwem Akpan.

We're in Family Circle this month

Next time you're waiting in the checkout line, pick up a Family Circle magazine and turn to page 95. Big thank you to the amazing writer Jeannette Moninger and to the devoted and courageous Sue Friedman of FORCE for giving us an opportunity to raise awareness about hereditary breast and ovarian cancers by telling our story. Thanks to Alonso for another great photo.


This is a favorite photo of me with sisters and beloved niece.

Fiction Writer Paul Silverman

A friend told me about an obituary she read today about short story writer Paul Silverman. He took his life. He'd retired from advertising a few years ago and was writing fiction. He published many stories in literary journals, publications that I read and also submit work to, but I'd only heard about him today.

The Globe quotes an interview he did in the 90's and what he said about advertising writing struck me as true about writing in general.

Most of the ideas we present to our clients get rejected,’’ he told the Globe’s Sunday Magazine in 1990. “One TV spot for a client, typically, involves at least 10 different ideas. We’ve come up with 40 concepts before a client decides on one. And you never see the other 39. . . . So most of this business is rejection; many people, outside of the advertising business, don’t understand that.’

That reminded me of a quote I love from Art and Fear by Bayles and Orland, ”The function of the overwhelming majority of your artwork is simply to teach you how to make the small fraction of your artwork that soars.”

I encourage you to check out Paul Silverman's website and stories. I like what he says about literary magazines:

"I’m making my intro mainly a plea for everyone to rally behind small magazines. As independents and pioneers, they can print pieces that are way outside the range of the few behemoths still taking short fiction. Without them, the short story wouldn’t stand much of a chance, because new voices would find themselves deprived of a place to speak and grow. In the world of the stage, it would be as if all the regional and local theaters had closed their doors, leaving only Broadway."

His website is beautiful and his stories are lovely. I'm getting to know them one by one. I wish I'd known about him earlier so I could have written him a note of appreciation, but this posting will have to do.

Joey's Special Eye (Now Available Online)

(photos clipped from here)

Four years ago today, my niece had an enucleation. In honor of this day, a post on the coloring book I wrote about this topic.

The EyeCare Foundation publishes and distributes the coloring book, Joey's Special Eye, that illustrator Rob Harrell and I made. A couple of years after I wrote it, it's still out there. According to the EyeCare Foundation newsletter, 5000 copies have been distributed all over the world and US (for a nominal fee or free) to children and families affected by retinoblastoma (Rb).

You can read the PDF of Joey's Special Eye here.

My sister Liza bought a hundred copies herself and distributed them to families affected by Rb at Camp Sunshine.

The photos above, proof that people who needed the book had them in their hands, moved me. Those photos were taken in Mexico and now I'm thinking we should have versions in other languages. I'm glad the book is out there and people are reading it, but honestly, writing it made me feel good.

When J had cancer, so many organizations and people poured out such generosity to us. For example, people at Songs of Love donated their time and talent to write and record a personalized song for J. We stood around her bed during one of her chemo treatments and cried listening to it. There were all kinds of people who offered comfort and support and resources. I remember when J was diagnosed--it felt as if my family had fallen into a deep, dark hole. We didn't know what the future would bring. Friends, family, and complete strangers offered their hands to lift us out of the hole. It brings me great satisfaction and joy to know that Joey's Special Eye can offer some comfort and information to families experiencing Rb.

In the newsletter, the EyeCare Foundation writes,

"We will continue to distribute Joey’s Special Eye on request and online as long as supplies last. You can help us continue this wonderful gift by contributing to The EyeCare Foundation. Just let us know that you want your contribution to support this ongoing effort. This opportunity is an opportunity to bring a smile to a child faced with this life-changing albeit life-saving event."

To donate online, click here or write to The EyeCare Foundation, Inc., 115 East 61 st Street, New York, NY, USA 10065.

By the way, on the theme of ways to respond to tragedy, see the video story on Songs of Love founder John Beltzer on 60 Minutes.

Learning to Make Up

My nephew, listening to an ear. His mother reports that later that night he wanted to smell a nose.

I wanted to write this down before I forgot: Last week, my three year old nephew and I went to the zoo. We took a ride around the zoo in a cart painted to look like a train. The thin plywood door seemed to be closed only loosely with a magnet. At one point, my nephew stood up and leaned against the door. I thought he was going to fall out and I snapped, "Sit down."

He isn't used to me speaking sharply to him and the look on his face was as if I slapped him. He looked really hurt. I told him I was sorry I yelled, but he needed to sit down to keep safe. "I'm mad at you, Tita," he told me. "You're being rude to me."

"It's for safety," I told him. I reiterated that he needed to sit down while the train was moving, but he stayed angry with me for the rest of the day and kept his distance.

The next time I saw him, a few days later, I looked him in the eye and said, "I'm sorry I yelled at you when you stood on the train. I felt so scared. I thought you were going to fall out. I'm sorry if you got hurt by my angry voice. I'm so glad you sat down. Can we make up?" He nodded, put his arms out and hugged me.

About half an hour later, my nephew approached me. "Tita, I'm sorry I stood on the train. Can we make up?"

I couldn't believe he had done that--had figured out what part he played in our conflict, acknowledged it, and wanted to move on. As my relatives know, we can be very stubborn folk. I've witnessed legendary family feuds in my clan go on for decades because we're loathe to make peace.

With my nieces and nephew, I'm trying to teach them some skills to deal with conflict and express their feelings. I'm no expert on how to do this, but so far, so good.

Happy August! I haven't been blogging much because I've been plugging away at my novel, which so far, is a lot of fun to write. By the way, check this book cover out. I'm so honored that the amazing writer Pauline Chen chose my essay for this anthology.

Moonlight Photos from the Dune Shack

photos of C-Scape Dune Shack in Provincetown, MA by Alonso Nichols, May 2009

Paul Talusan Med School Class Speech

Yesterday was a proud day for my family. My brother gave the class speech at the Boston University Medical School commencement. His classmates gave him a standing ovation before he even took the stage.

Turns out my brother-in-law Jorge gave his class address at his college graduation from Connecticut College. But that was before YouTube. I think that was even before the internet(s).