by Lehua Parker | Jun 15, 2023 | AAPI Books, Lauele Universe Stories, Middle Grade Books, Pacific Literature
Akela in the Park is a seven minute, one act play that I wrote for The Honolulu Theatre for Youth for their Children’s Literature Hawai’i showcase in 2021. It was recorded and webcast on June 4, 2021. It’s now available for free in ebook form.
Akela began as an idea that sprang from something my sister Soozy said about parents in Hawai’i telling kids that they were going camping when they lost their housing. (You have to understand that dark humor is how my family rolls.) Soozy said that she knew a few families in Hawai’i that were able to keep things semi-normal for the kids despite the very real struggles of living in makeshift shelters in beaches, parks, and open areas. It reminded me of the movie Life is Beautiful where a father keeps the horror of living in a concentration camp from his son by telling him they’re playing a game.
My original idea was pretty much dead on arrival. It treated the seriousness of houselessness too lightly and just wouldn’t land the way I wanted. I did some research, talked with folks, and realized I was in waaaaay over my head.
In the beginning of 2021, I was teaching writing workshops through PEAU Lit over Zoom. We’d meet once a week to talk about creative writing, using your own voice, and how to self-edit. I’d give them a random set of three words to use in a story before each meeting, and we’d share what we came up with. I decided I would write little vignettes about people from my Lauele Universe and share the first draft vs. the “final” and talk about all the hows and whys of the edits.
One character that kept showing up in my vignettes was a kid named Jon. As Jon told me his story, I began weaving some of the ideas I had about houselessness into his experiences. Akela is a combination of two vignettes. The first was called Sandwich, and the prompts were a sandwhich, a pencil, and broken glass. The second was called Coconut with a coconut, sunscreen, and a comb as prompts.
In 2021, I had the honor of being one of two featured authors at the Children’s Literature Hawai’i Conference, which led to The Honolulu Theatre for Youth reaching out to put together a video performace based on my work. I sent them a bunch of the Peau Lit vignettes and then met with some of their amazing cast and director while I just happened to be on ‘Oahu. Sandwich and Coconut intrigued them the most, and we workshopped some ideas. The timeline was super short, but working with the actors inspired me, and I begged them to give me the night to send them a new play based on the vignettes. I went back to our rental in Hau’ula and banged out Akela in the Park in three or so hours.
I had to figure out a way to get the characters’ thoughts out to an audience who were watching instead of reading–easy to to in print, much harder in a play or video. Pops suddenly appeared to solve that challenge. As I worked through the play, I also realized that Jon wasn’t the houseless kid–that was a girl named Akela. Akela’s tough, self-reliant, and proud.
Most of all, Akela wants to be seen.
The roots of homelessness / houselessness in Hawai’i are very complex. It’s unlike any other place I’ve experienced. In Hawai’i, two parents can work full time and still not make enough to cover rent for their family. It’s a far deeper problem than can be explored in any play–or series of novels, I think.
But the conversation has to start with someone willing to see, to engage, to share. We need more people like Jon who reach out in genuine friendship.
Akela in the Park is currently free to download.
by Lehua Parker | Mar 8, 2022 | Am Writing, Hawaiian Stories, New Books, The Business of Writing, Workshops
You ever miss the forests for the trees? I’ve been so busy writing and doing all the the things that I haven’t mentioned where my newest short stories are being published! Here’s what’s recent and upcoming
Short Story Collection
Sharks in an Inland Sea: Collected Speculative Fiction by Lehua Parker, published by Hemelein Publications, available June 2022
Short Stories
“This Once was a Sea” in Dead Stars and Stone Arches, published by Timber Ghost Press, Fall 2022
“Nightwalker” in Out of Time, published by Timber Ghost Press, Fall 2022
“Tourists” in An Ocean of Wonder: the Fantastic in the Pacific, published by University of Hawaii Press, Summer 2022
“Infestation” in Snaring the Sun, Bamboo Ridge, Journal of Hawai’i Literature and Arts #122, Summer 2022
“Brothers” in Va: Stories by Women of the Moana, published by Tatou Publishing, New Zealand, January 2022
“Nana’ue” in Va: Stories by Women of the Moana, Published by Tatou Publishing, New Zealand, January 2022
“Close Encounters” in Va: Stories by Women of the Moana, Published by Tatou Publishing, New Zealand, January 2022
“Tatau” in Dialogue: A Journal of Mormon Thought, Winter 2021 (link)
“Persona Non Grata” in Wasatch Witches, published by Fear Knocks Press, March 2021
“Gamble” in Grifty Shades of Fey, published by Fiction Vortex Press, 2020
Essays/Articles
Author Roundtable, The Routledge Companion to Gender and Science Fiction, Summer 2022
“Scrubbing Jesus’ Toilets” in Mormon Lit Blitz Vol. 2, Summer 2022
“9 Pacific Islander Authors Share Their Favorite Books for Children and Adults,” Apartment Therapy, May 2021 (link)
Plays
“Akela in the Park” performed by The Honolulu Theatre for Youth, Honolulu and web-streamed, June 2021
Works in Progress
Under the Bed, Book 1 of Lauele Chicken Skin Stories for MG/YA readers
Husk, a futuristic Hawaiians in Space Novel for adults
Plus two top secret projects, lots of book editing projects, and new writing workshops for kids and adults. And laundry. It never ends.
by Lehua Parker | Jan 18, 2022 | Book Reviews & Announcements, Hawaiian Stories, Island Style, Pacific Literature
YA Hawaiian Cosmic Horror! At last!
Austin Aslan’s The Islands at the End of the World and The Girl at the Center of the World are rip roaring, seat-of-your-pants thrilling Hawaiian YA cosmic horror / apocalypse novels. Set in modern day Hawai‘i, this duology explores what might happen if all of the communication, electricity, and other modern conveniences were suddenly cataclysmically disrupted worldwide.
Cut off from the rest of the world, 16 year old Leilani and her father must figure out how to get from Waikiki back to their ‘ohana in Hilo, a journey that takes them island hopping from O’ahu to Molokai to Maui and beyond. Islanders must figure out how to survive in an environment when 95% of everything is shipped in, including tourists with nowhere to go. The US Military, of course, has their own ways of handling things, and it’s not focused on helping islanders. Factions and gangs form as violence breaks out under too real pressures.
These books check a lot of boxes: YA, strong female protagonist, epilepsy as both a challenge and a savior, multi-cultural, ecology-minded, light romance, set in Hawai‘i with authentic cultural resonances, apocalyptic horror, aliens, local and external big bads, and strong family relationships to name a few. It’s a duology perfect for educators and YA readers looking for a survivalist adventure story with an authentically Hawaiian spin.
Most of the islander-isms rang true, although there were a few times things were a little off. For example, the stink eye was used consistently—that edit has to be from an outside editor’s pen. The story itself is wildly imaginative and grounded in Leilani coming to understand that her epilepsy may be the one thing that saves us all. In the end, family is who you say it is—few things are more Hawaiian than that.
These books do describe the end of the way things are now, so there is some violence and swearing which puts these stories in the 9th grade and up category, but nothing is overtly gratuitous. If anything, its understatement makes these events all the more impactful when they occur.
I highly recommend The Islands at the End of the World and The Girl at the Center of the World. We need more speculative fiction stories with Hawaiians and islanders firmly in the center, where their islandness isn’t exotic, but normal, and their adventures unreal.
The Islands at the End of the World and The Girl at the Center of the World by Austin Aslan are published by Wendy Lamb Books and are available in all formats from most bookstores and distributors.
by Lehua Parker | Dec 20, 2021 | Am Writing, Mana'o (Thoughts), New Books, Pacific Literature, The Business of Writing
I was in the middle of trying to organize some of my short stories for another project when I spotted Lani Young’s Instagram post. She was sending out a call for original short stories written by Pacific Island women for Va: Stories by Women of the Moana. The cover was stunning.
Fantastic! I have the perfect story in mind!
I reached out to Lani for more details. She told me she and Sisilia Eteuati were starting a new press called Tatou Publishing. The submission window for their first anthology was only two weeks long and closing on November 30th, in about twelve days, because publication was scheduled for Dec. 23, 2021.
It was like getting hit in the head by a falling coconut.
I didn’t have time to write a new story. I didn’t even have time to complete the projects I’d already committed to. A publication date about three weeks after the submission window closes is cray-cray. It’s beyond bold and non-traditional, it’s the kind of thing only true visionaries do, visionaries who see possibilities around corners, who get in their voyaging wa’a armed with a mental map of the stars and calabashes of water and taro and start paddling because they know they’ll find land. It’s out there. ‘Nuff waiting around for other people. Time to hele on out and go.
And I really wanted to be part of that expedition. But time. Life. Crap.
But I had just been going through my files trying to get a handle on what was published, what wasn’t, what needed some editorial TLC, and what needed to be chalked up to experience and deleted. As I looked over my files, I thought there were three possibilities. Long shots, honestly, since they’d already been rejected by other publishers.
“Brothers,” a contemporary MG/YA magical realism story, about 1500 words; “Close Encounters,” a contemporary adult flash fiction thriller, about 680 words; and “Nana‘ue,” which walked the line between an adult fable and magical realism and was based on an old Hawaiian legend and set in the ancient past. At 4,000 words, “Nana‘ue” was also significantly longer than the 3,000 word max they were looking for.
And each story had a shark at its heart.
I can’t submit these. They’ll think I’m crazy, a crazy shark lady. They’ll think all I do is sit in my office in the desert thousands of miles from the Hawai‘i and worry about sharks like some Jaws freak. Just sit your ‘okole in your chair, Lehua, and write the story you know they’ll like, the one that’s been itching behind your eyes for over five years.
And for about four days, I tried. But time. Life. Crap. As the clock ticked down, it was time for some hard truth.
If not for this anthology, then where? Who else is going to get what you were trying to say in these stories? And yeah, they’re all shark stories, but this anthology is for Pacific Islanders—sharks are ‘ohana. The worst they can say is, “No thank you.” Well, no, the worst they can say is, “WTF were you thinking? These stories suck. Please don’t waste our time again.”
But really, they’ll probably just say no.
So I did what I tell all my critique partners and students to do: chance ‘em. Full send. All three stories. Maybe they would pity publish one of them.
Maybe.
Remember when I said Lani and Sisilia were starting something new? This publishing experience has been very different. Within a few hours of submitting, I received enthusiastic feedback from Sisilia and Lani on all of my stories. They wanted all three.
At the time, I was excited. Now after reading about a third of the galley copy I have of Va: Stories by Women of the Moana, I’m humbled. The voices, the lived experiences, are raw and honest and incredible. I’ve laughed and cried and thought yes, sistah, I see you.
38 different women of moana wrote about 50 original works, resulting in more than 98,000 words in the anthology. The initial presales placed it #1 worldwide on Amazon in Pacific and Oceanic Literature. Just think about that for a second. According to traditional publishers, none of these stories nor the audience should exist.
Some of the stories and poems in Va: Stories by Women of the Moana don’t adhere to a western idea of story. They’re vignettes, slices of real life and characters that will stay with you long past their reading. I think that’s perfect because these are our stories, in our voices, no filter, no apologies. I find I’m reading my copy slowly, savoring the words, enjoying the journey.
I’m so glad I jumped in the Va canoe. We’re all paddling as hard as we can. We know land and our audience is out there. Meanwhile, I’m going to write the next story, the one I keep putting off, because now I have a destination to sail toward. And I have to wonder how many other Pacifica stories are going to be written and read simply because Lani and Sisilia have shown the way?
Va: Stories by Women of the Moana is available from Amazon, iTunes, Kobo, Smashwords, and other retailers. It’s a trip to the islands from the comfort of your couch for about the cost of a fancy coffee. Check it out. These aren’t the islands you think you know. It’s life, not a vacation.
#realrep #Va #TatouPub #PasifikaBook #Hawaiistories
by Lehua Parker | Dec 14, 2021 | AAPI Books, Mana'o (Thoughts), The Business of Writing
On December 14, 2021, I participated in the Utah Library Advocates Press Conference as a representative of PIK2AR and PEAU Lit. The conference was called in response to the nation-wide organized efforts to censor books in school libraries, often without books going through an established book challenge or review process. Basically, someone complains–who may not even live in the school district–and books get quietly removed from school library shelves. Sometimes these books are simply tucked out of the way in someone’s office; sometimes they are permanently “checked-out” or weeded from the the library’s collection. Regardless, books are being removed from circulation without a proper review.
This is wrong and worrisome on so many levels, particularly since all of the current “problem” books in Utah are centered around BIPOC and LGBTQIA+ themes. At this press conference, representatives from the NAACP, Utah Pride, Equality Utah, ULA, UELMA, UEA, SchoollibraryPALs, and I spoke about first amendment rights, the need for all kids to see themselves as the center of the story, and how parents can have difficult conversations with their children. Not all books are for all children, but libraries need to have books that represent the entirety of their communities.
The following is the mana’o I shared. It’s written to be spoken, not read, so e kala mai, there are a lot of run on sentences.
____________________
Aloha awakea kakou.
My name is Lehua Parker, and I’m here on behalf of PIK2AR—Pacific Knowledge To Action Resources—and PEAU Lit—the literary arm of Pasifika Enriching Arts of Utah. I’m an author of stories for kids and adults that are deeply embedded in Native Hawaiian and Hawaiian island culture.
Do not let the blond hair and blue eyes fool you. I am kanaka maoli, Native Hawaiian and a graduate of The Kamehameha Schools.
Today, you’ve heard my esteemed colleagues talk about the importance of school libraries and authentic representation. I’d like to take a moment and talk a little bit about this from the perspective of an author who writes stories for an underserved readership.
As a child growing up in Hawai‘i, I never saw my family, friends, or neighbors represented in a book. And I know these books didn’t exist, because I was constantly on the prowl for them in both public and school libraries. I was the kid with their nose perpetually in a book—on a bus, at the beach, soccer practice—it didn’t matter, I had a book with me.
But my family and friends weren’t just invisible in books—it was all media. In the rare movie or television show, islanders were always the exotic hula dancer, the bartender, or the crook—never the center or the hero of the story, never seen nor validated, and never without a cultural narrative created and imposed by Hollywood.
Would it surprise you to learn that pineapple, coconut bras, and tiki curses that Bobby Brady faced are not Hawaiian?
Don’t get me started on pizza.
I remember so vividly the first time I saw my community authentically represented in media. It left such a lasting impact on my life, that when I decided to write my first novel, I knew it had to be about—and for—kids in Hawai‘i—that their authentic lives, experiences, and worldviews had to be firmly set as the center of the story.
I wish I could take you all to Hawai‘i to see the impact these books have had on kids. I’ve stood in crowded auditoriums with kids on the edge of their seats—they were that engaged with the idea that someone wrote a story about them that’s in a book.
“Aunty,” they say, “when you had a character say and do this—did you really mean…?!”
And yes, I tell them, I did.
More importantly—with a book in hand as proof, kids are thrilled by the possibility that they too can write their own stories and someone will read them. They matter that much.
I’ve talked with teachers, librarians, and parents—some with tears in their eyes—because for the first time their haumana, their keiki—their students and children—feel seen. For some kids, these books are the first ones they’ve read voluntarily in their entirety.
Think about that for a moment. Reading is critical to success in school, in work, in a child’s future, in our nation’s future. Kids hunger to read books that speak to their lived experiences. Why would we do anything to discourage that?
I want you to know that I recognize that not all books are for all kids. However, we have public processes that help us determine which books are appropriate for which grades in our communities, and it is imperative that these processes are followed. It is chilling to think that people believe we can circumvent proper review processes by bullying others into removing books from circulation, simply because a book is not right for their child.
All school libraries must have books that represent the entirety of their communities.
It truly is a matter of life and death. It is a matter of being seen.
Mahalo nui loa a me aloha no. Thank you for your time and consideration.
____________________
If bullying is not okay on the playground, why are we allowing it in the library? What are we really teaching our children? I invite you to get involved, to educate yourself and others on the critical services libraries provide for everyone in their communities. Rather than worrying about what another kid has in their backpack, send your child to the library with lists of good books you’d like them to explore.
#RealRep #challengebooks #Hawaiibooks #justreadconfunit
by Lehua Parker | Dec 9, 2021 | Book Reviews & Announcements, Pacific Literature, The Business of Writing
I’ve often thought that rather than wait patiently in the shadows for someone at the publishing table to notice and make room, it’s better to build your own table. Tatou Publishing has not only built a table, they’ve prepared a feast.
Traditional publishers in the USA believe there is no market for Pacific literature stories, that islanders don’t read or buy books, that words in Pidgin or Hawaiian or any other language are confusing. I can tell a good story, they say, but to reach a wider audience, I should really just write books about American girls who sparkle. That’s something they can sell.
Unfortunately, that’s not an exaggeration. Publishers and editors have really said this to me. I think their frankness comes from the cognitive dissonance they experience when they see what looks like a fluffy middle-aged white woman submitting manuscripts that bleed saltwater and taste of taro and red earth.
They just don’t get it—and they really can’t. They don’t have the tastebuds.
Other Pasifika writers have heard this, too. We’re told to be patient, to write literary fiction, not space stories or fantasy or urban romance. We’re supposed to fit neatly in a box.
Tired of this rhetoric, Tatou Publishing was born. A call went out from Lani Young and Sisilia Eteuati for original short stories and poems from women across the vast Pacific. It speaks volumes about colonial chains that many saw women and assumed only cis-gendered were welcome, but our pan-Pacific realities have bigger hearts and lives than that. Tatou Publishing assumed that was understood. Going forward, the wahine energy message is clearer. Women means all women.
Their first project is ambitious—there was only a two week submission window for original stories and poems that ended on Nov. 30, 2021 and publication was fast-tracked for December 23, 2021.
37.
That’s the number of authors whose work was accepted into the inaugural anthology. I’m not sure what the final word count was, somewhere in the 90,000 word range. That’s not just amazing, that’s unprecedented. It’s impossible, according to publishers. There aren’t that many people writing these kinds of stories in the world, let alone women.
That’s why Lani and Sisilia built their own table, a ginormous table, big enough to hold a feast of words, of stories, of lives told in authentic voices. Better loosen your belt. There are more courses—flavors and textures—than your tongue can hold.
The authors range from experienced to noobie, from stay-at-home moms to lawyers, educators, business owners and everything in between and beyond. This is the start of something special.
From the back of the book—
Stories that tell covid to eat sh!*, where a Centipede God watches on with wry humour and wrath, where a sexy Samoan goes on a hot Tinder date in Honolulu, where a New Zealand doctor is horrified to be stuck at her cousin’s kava drink up in Fiji, stories where Ancestors and Atua live and breathe. Stories that defy colonial boundaries, and draw on the storytelling and oratory that is our inheritance. Immerse yourself in the intrigue, fantasy, humour and magic of beautiful strong stories by 37 writers from across the Moana.
Chimamanda Adichie speaks about the danger of the single story. In this book you will travel across oceans and meet diverse and deep characters in over 50 rich stories from Cook Island, Chamorro, Erub Island (Torres Strait), Fijian, Hawaiian, Maori, Ni-Vanuatu, Papua New Guinean, Rotuman, Samoan and Tongan writers.
Mark your calendars: Va – Stories by Women of the Moana, available Dec 23, 2021 on Amazon and other retailers in eBook and paperback.
It’s gonna be epic.
