In April 2021, I read 2 graphic novels, 1 picture book, 1 nonfiction book, 1 suspense short, 1 horror novella, 1 literary fiction novel, and 1 ARC I won’t be able to talk about just yet. Check it out.
Below you’ll find my star ratings and review blurbs for each title I completed in the indicated month. If you have not signed up for my newsletter, please consider doing so. That’s where I post my thorough book reviews (and sometimes TV and movie stuff) as well as talk about my love of reading while offering tips for having a healthy reading lifestyle. You can also click the Goodreads links to see the thorough reviews. At the bottom of this post, you’ll also be able to watch a video of my monthly reviews, if that’s more your style.
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Thank you for taking the time to read this post. If you like it let me know and share it with others. See you next time, Toi Thomas. #thetoiboxofwords #blacklivesmatter
Below is a short story and poem I wrote for a blog contest 2 years ago. I came in 3rd and was very pleased. Please click hereif you’d like to read the other wonderful submissions in the contest. They have nothing to do with #blacklivesmatter. The theme of the contest was Fall and Winter.
I felt like this was a good time to share this story here. Though the title speaks of the fall season in 1954, the fictional story I’ve written wouldn’t have taken place until 3 or 4 years later at best (most likely much later). I chose the title year of 1954 because that’s the year the supreme court ruled that segregation in schools was unconstitutional. For my story, I imagine the law changing in May, and in the Fall, a young black woman finds herself the only black student in an all-white school.
THE FALL OF ’54
Images sourced from Pexels.com. Design by Toi Thomas.
Shay stared at the blank paper and sighed. The bell would ring soon, and she’d have nothing to turn in. “Write something,” her teacher had said, “something that the season inspires in you.” Shay had watched as her classmates, the children who looked nothing like her, all dove into their assignments with glee.
“If only they were me,” she thought, as she turned and stared out the window. Shay fought the smile threatening to lift the corners of her mouth when seeing another class at play. How happy they all looked. Running and jumping around. And then, she saw something that brought on a new battle.
Shay fidgeted in her seat, twisting her frown into the semblance of indifference as she watched the children begin to pick up leaves. Back and forth they ran, sharing and trading, all trying to gather as many unique samples as possible. Two boys gathered close to the window could be overheard, “This one’s almost the color of my boots and this one has streaks of red. “
Shay repeated the words in her head, “the color of my boots and streaks of red.” She looked around the room, for the first time noticing the seasonal decorations. She even dared to glance at the flyer for the Harvest ball to be held at the end of the week, the ball no one had expected her to attend. Who could she possibly go with anyway? No one else looked like her.
The ticking of the clock snapped Shay back to the urgency of her assignment. “Write something that the season inspires in you.” If she didn’t write something soon, she’d be in trouble and sent to detention again. At least this time, she’d actually have done something to earn it.
Shay sighed heavily and picked up her pencil. When a girl nearby looked her way, Shay turned her eyes and focused on her paper. With one more glance at the children outside, Shay began to write. When the bell rang, Shay turned in her paper.
With his red pen in hand, Shay’s teacher decided to start with her paper.
Red, and yellow, and orange, and more,
All the colors, from sky to floor.
Heaped, and swept, and piled, and raked,
A mother yells, “For goodness sake!”
Floating and flying, drifting on by,
A mosaic scattered across the sky.
Gathered and bundled, twisted, and tied,
A perfect decoration, out or inside.
Smooth or cracked, pointed, or flat,
Tiny and round, thick on the ground.
Brown, and copper, walnut, and cherry,
Gold, and plum, rustic and merry.
Colors and shades, hues galore,
The beauty of fall, they all adore.
The colors of fall on things that don’t speak,
The colors of race, so long left weak.
Colors adored for decoration,
Colors singled out for oppression.
Colors of nature deemed a beauty to see,
Why can’t they see that beauty in me?
When Shay’s teacher was finished with her paper, he placed the red pen in his drawer.
Also, I’ve written and illustrated another children’s book. I actually wrote it two years ago but never illustrated it. I wrote it to help me cope with issues I’ve seen and am experiencing. I’ve always used my writing to help me cope and this was meant for just that. I never had the intention to share this with anyone. I wrote this for myself and did not consult beta readers or editors. I’m only putting it out now because I want the world to be clear about where I stand. As an author, we are told not to get political unless we write about politics for fear it will cost us readers. At this point, any readers who don’t get the #blacklivesmatter movement probably weren’t supporting me anyway. So, here it is…
It’s cold outside, why can’t I wear a hoodie?
Why do people follow me at the store?
There’s no easy way to explain racism, especially to young kids, but the sooner kids learn the truth, the better they can combat it and work to help make changes.
This is a light, yet serious, story about perceptions. This book was written to help parents start the race conversation with their children, whatever their race or skin color may be.
Don’t avoid the race talk. As with many things in life, if you don’t talk to your kids about race, someone else will. Someone else may shape your child’s point of view on race, if you don’t.
Add this book to your Goodreads.com bookshelf here.
Thank you for taking the time to read this post. If you like it let me know and share it with others. See you next time, Toi Thomas. #thetoiboxofwords #blacklivesmatter
This post contains affiliate links; see the About page for details.
Click here to see all the winners! Read my entry below.
Familia Bond
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Danube
This has been the most cheerful harvest in recent history, with cool days and clear nights. I was put in charge of my first field this Spring and have worked more and harder than I have in years past, finally understanding pride in a job well done. I never before understood putting so much care into food I’d never eat.
As the youngest, male Field Leader in over a century, the anticipation of tonight’s celebration has me on edge, in the best possible way. I’m so honored to be able to attend the formal this year. Being around so many prestigious female leaders will surely increase my chances of establishing a pair-bond, especially if the Harvest Celebration goes as well as planned.
For decades, I’ve imagined the grandeur, etiquette, and politics of the Harvest Celebration, knowing how important it is to our survival. I should have been able to take part in the celebration many times over- I’ve been of the proper age for some time now, but the attendance of the celebration has been restricted as of late. As Josiah puts it, “The balancing of a population is a delicate endeavor. No matter how great our harvest may be, without good numbers, it mostly goes to waste.” I have been fortunate to have Josiah looking after me all these years and am even more grateful for a chance to repay his guidance and education.
I and two others, another male and a female, were sent out to dwell among the citizens to help influence them and protect them from their own ignorance. For a score, we blended into their society and corrected their assumptions, improved their methods, and fortified their medicines and rations. With our help, the citizens have thrived. In the Spring of this year, we were all called home to take charge of fields and prepare for harvest time. This will be the first Harvest Celebration in over a decade with an attendance that reaches beyond the capacity of our Great Hall. We don’t know the exact number of the population, it’s not our way to interfere directly with the citizens, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Now, we’re all highly anticipating the arrival of the citizens to the Harvest Celebration.
Pexels.com
Milsa
Tonight is the night. I have been preparing for this, it seems an eon. Year after year, I’ve attended the celebration, but being the youngest of the elders, I’ve always missed my opportunity to choose a pair. The citizens’ numbers have been so low that there were never any descent Chosen left to present by the end. Not this year though.
I’ve heard wonderful reports from the citizen spies. The citizens are healthier than ever, and their numbers have almost doubled. Josiah was wise to restrict the invitation to the celebration this last score. He will be the savior of us all if this Harvest Celebration is the success we all hope it will be.
It’s foolish really, but the anticipation of this Harvest Celebration makes me feel like a girl again. It’s been so long since I was a mere girl, but even one such as myself does not forget that feeling of excitement, that thrill of mating and reproduction. I know I’m ready for tonight’s ceremony.
After the other citizens have departed with their bounty, our gift to the locals for their sacrifice, the Field Leaders will mesmerize their chosen progeny and then drain them to the brink of death. The other Elders and I will then choose, in ranking order, the Leaders and progeny we deem worthy of the Familia Bond. I will select a young, strong male who has chosen to present a daughter. I will feed his chosen progeny from my wrist and then I shall drink from his heart to replenish my own strength. The servants will clean our bodies, drape us in silk, and bury us together under the harvest moon.
Tonight is the night I finally obtain the family I’ve longed for, for far too long.
Josiah
Oh, this burden I’ve taken on, this great struggle to perpetuate our species has finally begun to lift. My plan to send out our youngest day walkers has served us well. Many disputed my decision, refusing to take in the severity of the problem. It is true the Vmpyrs have never directly interfered with the lives of the humans, the citizens of this land, but if they are to continue serving as our breeding ground, we could not afford to stand by and let them die from starvation, famine, and plague.
My decision to restrict the invitation to the Harvest Celebration was also unpopular. When an elder, female Vmpyrs is ready for the Familia Bond, she’s ready. Convincing the Elder clans to alternate the years in which their females could choose new pairs and progeny almost cost me my life. An angry Vmpyra can easily withstand the charge of ten Vmpyro, no matter how old or well-trained they are. Vmpyra live for the day they can start the Familia Bond, but with the humans’ numbers dwindling so, there just weren’t any new progeny available.
I myself had given up the prospect of presenting a progeny at the Celebration for the past decade to ensure that others would have a chance. But I am happy to have a chance to participate this year. My favorite and most talented pupil, Danube, has blessed us with a great report of the citizen’s health and numbers. Tonight, he and I will stand before the elders and finally have our chance at eternal bliss. I know Danube has longed for a daughter; perhaps I shall present a son.
I regret now that I once looked down on the Familia Bond, thinking an eternity as a bachelor was the bliss I wanted. After being a bachelor Vympyro for more than three hundred years, I deserve to have the Familia Bond.
This will indeed be the best Harvest Celebration ever.
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