I stare out of my airplane window, floating above Louisiana’s lush, green pastures, heading to New York where my dad is awaiting another father-son book talk adventure; this time at Sidney Memorial Public Library, near Binghamton, where copies of my Middle Grade novel “All Mixed Up” are being handed to kids in the community. I love when my stories can benefit a community.
I’ve been thinking about that word a lot lately: community. I visit cities and towns across the country where that concept is still thriving. Though for most of my life, I’ve never felt part of any community, but rather an outsider. Even as a writer, I don’t feel like I belong to any particular literary community either and I’ve accepted my lone wolfness. In fact, I’ve come to prefer it that way.
I guess having no community makes it easier to hop from one book event to another. I know my mission and reason for being there, to establish a connection with readers and potential ones. But when I was invited to appear at this year’s Louisiana Book Festival in Baton Rouge, I wasn’t expecting to find a sense of belonging in a state I’d never before stepped foot in.
This time, I guess I felt like I had nothing to lose. At the pre-festival author party the night before, I decided I’d try to be extra social, instead of my sometimes awkward self (at least, that’s how I usually feel inside), forcing convivial small talk. Walking into the State Library of Louisiana, where the gathering was being held, I was surprised that I knew more authors than I realized. With some, I was just a fan and onlooker. But others, I’ve communicated with before over email for one reason or another. I put my party face on and first said hello to Annabelle Tometich, author of “The Mango Tree: A Memoir of Fruit, Florida, and Felony,” who I was to share a panel with the following day. Her book was paired with my memoir “Colorful Palate: A Flavorful Journey Through a Mixed American Experience” given our similar threads of food, family, culture, and being multiracial. We instantly connected like old pals. It was a nice feeling.
From there, we ran into Jesse Byrd, author of “Dream Warriors,” as well as Britt Gondolfi, author of “Look Up!: Fontaine the Pigeon Starts a Revolution,” Casi Cole author of “Moon Cat,” and Amanda Romanick, illustrator for both books. All of us shared the same publisher for our most recent titles, Paw Prints, whose fate currently hangs in the balance as its parent company, Baker & Taylor, recently announced its closing up shop for good. Although this recent news has made all of us a little down, we found comfort in being part of the same publishing family and bonded over the beautiful work we’ve been able to produce.
As the Michael Foster Project set the mood with their swingin’, brassy New Orleans-style jazz playing, I bumped into Thi Bui, author of “The Best We Could Do: An Illustrated Memoir” and guest editor of McSweeney’s Quarterly #78: The Make Believers, who was standing with illustrator Sam Nga Blum, who worked with Thi on 78, and Baton Rouge writer and influencer Serena Puang. All three were appearing on a panel together the next day. I was fortunate to work with Thi in my freelance communications work for McSweeney’s, but this was the first time meeting in person. Suddenly, I found myself in the company of multiple literary groups, all of whom were welcoming as we quickly became friends. Who knew it was so easy?
The next day was met with a sun-kissed morning and cool, crisp air. The festival’s hardworking team, led by new director Robert Wilson (who was handed the baton from longtime director Jim Davis), welcomed authors as speeches were given commemorating the 100th anniversary of the State Library of Louisiana, honoring librarian Tom Jaques, and presenting Johnnie Christmas, author of “Swim Team: A Graphic Novel,” with the Louisiana Young Readers’ Choice Award. Aside from being a fan, I got to know Johnnie a little in the car ride from the airport and was thrilled to see this Vancouver native’s work celebrated so far from his home.
I had some time to kill before my first panel, so I sat in on others – from Marguerite Sheffer, author of “The Man in the Banana Trees,” who I’d also worked with but never before met, and Grammy Award-winning writer Ricky Riccardi, author of “Stomp Off, Let’s Go: The Early Work of Louis Armstrong,” who I’ve admired for a long time. By the late morning, the festival was buzzing with thousands of visitors and a variety of authors, all of whom seemed to wear big smiles throughout their time on the grounds.
My first panel with fellow Middle Grade author and local teacher Sarah Guillory, author of “Gus and Glory,” was great fun. Although she and I seem to come from different worlds, we enjoyed each other’s time as we learned more about our individual books and what inspires us to write.
Once Thi, Sam, and Serena finished their panel, they headed over to see Annabelle and I engage in a lively chat about our memoirs and personal experiences. After the talk, a festival volunteer introduced himself and told us about his family’s journey from Colombia. He even wrote about it in his book “Hotel Colombia: My Family’s Immigration Story.” I was also introduced to Rayna Nielsen, owner of the new New Orleans bookstore Book Banter Books, who I’d also communicated with via email but never met in person. We all hit it off and by the evening, the six of us found ourselves at a local favorite of Serena’s, “Veracruz: Mar Y Tierra,” as we talked and laughed till the sun went down.
“So, this is what community feels like,” I thought to myself. “It feels nice.”
We all exchanged phone numbers with plans to keep in touch; maybe even plan a future event in New Orleans where Thi, Sam, and Rayna all live and work. The evening was filled with promise.
The life of a writer can be lonely at times but on these special occasions, where contemporaries gather, and community and camaraderie are encouraged, there is a sense of belonging that feels deserved.
I feel deserving.
I can’t wait to be invited to the next festival.
How you can support libraries
With library funding being gutted and censorship on the rise, supporting libraries is more critical than ever. If you’re looking for a way to help, we urge you to become a Supporter of the American Library Association by donating.
At the American Library Association, we are here to protect libraries — today and for generations to come. What does your donation do? It helps a neighbor gain skills to start a business. It helps a child discover themselves through books and programs. And it helps keep libraries strong, open, and free for everyone.
Become a Supporter
Raj Tawney writes about food, family, culture, and identity. His essays have appeared in The New York Times, The Washington Post, USA Today, and other publications throughout the country. He is the author of the memoir “Colorful Palate” and Middle Grade novel “All Mixed Up.”
Listen to an interview with Raj on I Love Libraries’ “How I Library” podcast.
Feature image: Annabelle Tometich, author of “The Mango Tree: A Memoir of Fruit, Florida, and Felony,” and Raj Tawney at the Louisiana Book Festival. Photos courtesy of Raj Tawney.
Subscribe to the I Love Libraries newsletter! You’ll get news from the library world, advocacy updates, author interviews, book lists, and more delivered to your inbox every month.
