reflections on publishing

What happens at Kindling Words...

I.

I first attended Kindling Words, a retreat for published children’s book professionals, in Essex, Vermont, in winter 2006. I had a book deal — Mama’s Saris (LBBYR) would publish in 2007 — but no agent, no community, no real understanding of the industry. KW was my first retreat-like conference ever, and I didn’t know up from down. I was young and inexperienced: a smug twenty-something who was timid and introverted — somewhat confident of my emerging talents but also very desperate for external validation. I came home exhausted, overwhelmed, and intimidated.

II.

Mama’s Saris released in 2007 to little fanfare — no stars, no lists, no awards.

III.

Publishing was different in the early aughts: far less diverse, or “multicultural” in the vocabulary of the time. In 2007, according to the Cooperative Children’s Book Center (CCBC) at the University of Wisconsin, 1.2% of books received by CCBC, or 56 books, were by “Asian Pacific/Asian Pacific American” (CCBC’s term) creators; 2.3%, or 68 books, were about Asian Pacific/Asian Pacific American children.

IV.

The Little Book That Could has had a long tail: It was championed by librarians and bloggers and South Asian parents, and I continue to receive fan mail even though the book has been out of print for several years. Mama’s Saris was one of the first picture books published by the Big Five¹ to feature a contemporary South Asian² story, and it became, and has remained, a touchstone text.

V.

I turned away from writing fiction after the publication Mama’s Saris, aside from a few unfinished and/or unpolished manuscripts. I had an inexplicable crisis of confidence which manifested in a years-long case of writers block. Eventually, I came to accept that my debut picture book was a one-off and found success³ elsewhere — in journalism, criticism, and essay. I wrote extensively about children’s literature. I lived a creative life: as a mother, a baker, a photographer, a reader.

VI.

The pandemonium prompted many Americans to reexamine their lives; it spurred me to take an inventory of my creative ambitions. Those other writing successes super-charged the confidence I had lost and, in August 2021, I sent a text to a dear friend: “I want to draft a picture book idea that been in my head for years. And send it to my agent.” I drafted two picture book manuscripts and, in January 2022, sent them to my agent.

VII.

By 2023 — 2024 data was not available at time of press — 18.4% of books received by CCBC, or 641 books, were by Asian creators; 11.7%, or 410 books, were about Asian children⁴.

VIII.

I returned to KW this weekend, coincidentally, at a similar crossroads: I have two books publishing next year, in 2026 — after a gap of 19 years. The world has changed; publishing has changed (a little); I have changed. I now have an agent, a strong community, and an in-depth, if more cynical, understanding of the industry. Time and age have given me perspective, and I don’t seek — I don’t need — external validation. I know that my work has beauty and worth.

This time, I didn’t feel inadequate or overwhelmed. I revised a picture book manuscript; worked on a novel outline (eeep!); and shared a work-in-progress at a candlelit reading (double eep!); and made a few new friends. But I also ate breakfast alone; opted out of several social and/or networking opportunities; and retreated to my room around 9 p.m. to complete a crossword puzzle and watch an episode of my current cozy mystery obsession (Shakespeare & Hathaway: Private Investigators) before drifting off to sleep. I blocked out the insecurity and anxiety and fear that often permeate these creative spaces. I took what I needed and gave what I could.

1. Then Big Six. Penguin and Random House merged in 2013.

2. Admittedly, the term “South Asian” is a flawed and inadequate category (privileges some class, religious, ethnic, sexual orientation, and caste identities over others and fails to account for American geopolitical strategies in South Asia and their impact on the diaspora) and some Americans of South Asian origin reject its use, but it remains useful as a lived reality for many Americans of South Asian descent in everyday exchanges, relationships, and solidarities.

3. Cultural and social capital, not (much) actual capital.

4. In 2018, CCBC disaggregated “Asian” and “Pacific Islander.”