ANN BIRDGENAW
Aurora Award nominee for Best Young Adult Novel – Ka’Azula, (2023) and elementary school librarian. Ann always wanted to write a book of her own. She was inspired to write this story by a strange beeping coming from a box in her garage. When COVID-19 hit Canada and everyone was in quarantine or lock down, she had lots of time to imagine being sucked through a wormhole to other planets and what wonderful things she might find there. She is also the author of the soon to be published, humorous picture book titled, “The Squirrel Show”. Stay tuned!
Ann lives in Montreal, Quebec, Canada with her family and two morkies: Bilbo and Sheba.
Q. WHAT ADVICE WOULD YOU GIVE TO NEW AUTHORS THAT YOU WISHED YOU HAD RECEIVED YOURSELF WHEN YOU STARTED?
A. Write early and write often. I always wanted to write a book for children but only took pen to paper when I was 56 years old. It’s obvious to me now that the writing gets better the more you write. I have to admit that book 5 in my series it the best one so far!
Q. WHEN YOU READ YOUR BOOK REVIEWS HOW DO YOU HANDLE THE BAD ONES?
A. I understand that you can’t please all the people, all the time. I try to take the bad reviews as constructive criticism and learn something from them to help me improve for future books.
Q. ARE YOU TRYING TO HAVE EACH BOOK STAND ON ITS OWN OR ARE YOU TRYING TO BUILD A BODY OF WORK WITH CONNECTIONS BETWEEN EACH BOOK?
A. I write a science fiction series for middle grade readers so each book is related and I try to develop their character arcs and storyline to keep readers interested. It’s a good way to keep readers coming back.
Q. DO YOU WRITE EVERY DAY? HOW MANY HOURS A DAY DO YOU WRITE?
A. I wish I could write every day, but I still have a full time job as a librarian so I am usually reading when I am not writing. From what I’ve heard, writers are always writing in the back of their minds.
Q. HOW MUCH OF YOUR PERSONAL LIFE DO YOU INCORPORATE INTO YOUR WRITING OR DO YOU MAKE UP EVERYTHING?
A. I like to incorporate humor into my stories, and I use many of the funny things that have happened in my real life to happen to my characters.
Q. HOW LONG DO YOU RESEARCH BEFORE YOU BEGIN YOUR NEXT BOOK?
A. I am not a scientist, so I have to do a lot of research to learn about outer space and how things work out there and bring it to my young readers who I hope are learning something even though they are reading fiction.
A. DID YOU JUST KNOW YOU WANTED TO BE A WRITER OR DID YOU HAVE A PARTICULAR EXPERIENCE THAT MADE YOU WANT TO START WRITING?
A. I was always an avid reader and always wanted to write a book myself, but it took a strange beeping in my garage to give me the idea for the Black Hole Radio that sucks 2 boys and a girl to other planets where they have adventures and usually help someone. Covid 19 really gave me the time I needed to spend on writing, editing, and publishing my series.
Q. DO YOU HAVE A FAVORITE CHILDHOOD BOOK?
A. My favorite books growing up were by Dr. Seuss and then I loved Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White.
Q. IF YOU COULD PICK ONE OF YOUR BOOKS TO BECOME A MOVIE BLOCKBUSTER, WHICH BOOK WOULD THAT BE AND WHO WOULD YOU LIKE TO PLAY THE CHARACTERS?
A. I have been told that my latest book, #5 – Furilani is very cinematic. The friends go to a planet where they wear little animals called sploots are used as living fashion accessories. Kind of like on earth where they make minks and things into coats, but these are alive and it’s funny, but children learn that it’s not right to use animals in this way. Matt makes up a rap song to convince the aliens not to use sploots as hats and belts and they have a parade to showcase the talented and intelligent little spoots. Also, they don’t know if the sploots are male or female, so they use pronouns “they and them” to refer to them. I think it would make a great movie or show.
Q. HOW LONG, ON AVERAGE, DOES IT TAKE YOU TO WRITE A BOOK?
A. I usually release one per year. So, the whole process takes about that time.
WE’VE GOT THE BLUES
I have never been so scared in my life! I back away, keeping my eyes on the needle threatening to enter my body.
“Wait a second, fellas.” I hold out my hands, and they immediately grab hold of my wrists with their talons to inject the contents of the syringe. I know that needles are dangerous because my mom warned me never to touch them if I see them on the ground. Mom is a nurse, and she’s always real careful with them.
“Noooooo!” I scream so loud inside my head that everyone stops for a split second. The blue beings freeze, just long enough for something amazing to happen! The syringe flies out of their grasp and smashes against the spaceship wall. Blue liquid oozes down the wall, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
The blue aliens’ huge, black eyes almost bulge out of their heads as they run from the room again, snorting and sputtering to each other, totally freaked out.
“Whew! Thanks, Celeste! You saved my butt again with your super-power,” I say, rubbing my wrists.
“Yeah, Celeste, you got them good with that move!” says Hawk in awe, looking bluer than ever.
“I couldn’t let them inject you with that blue stuff too, so I wished the syringe away!” she says casually, looking at her reflection again. It always surprises me 42 that Celeste is so relaxed about some things and yet so nervous about other little things. Like right now, she’s totally casual about fending off two large alien beings for me.
“Celeste, maybe they’ll trust us if we’re blue like them?” Hawk replies.
“You think they’ll want to hang out with us just because we have the same color skin? That’s messed up.” I say, slapping my forehead.
“I’m just saying that we’ll fit in better. Like that episode of Star Trekkers where everyone had to stretch their ears and talk like robots to fool the Vulcans.” Laughs Hawk. “Besides, it’ll probably just wear off.”
“But what if it doesn’t?” Celeste cries, looking more like ‘Smurfette in Space’ every minute.
It’s a good question, but we don’t have time to deal with it right now as we hear the grunting and snorting of aliens arguing in the next room. They re-emerge and roughly lead us to the back wall of the ship and strap us against it. Right now, we have to figure out how to deal with these hostile aliens. At least Hawk and I can understand their thoughts with ESP.
“Snort! We will bring them in, and it will no longer be our problem,” they mutter and grunt, walking to the front of the ship.
Suddenly the spacecraft bursts into life, and we are thrown back against the wall with such force that we can’t move or talk . . . or hardly breathe. I think they are in a hurry to be free of us.
It is a short trip on the hyperspace highway. In a blink, I see my young life pass before my eyes— Hawk 43 and I in preschool playing with our toy spaceships, my pop pushing me on the swings at the park, my mom making my favorite chocolate chip cookies . . . Yuummm! I can almost smell the chocolatey goodness. Whoosh! Trillions of stars streak by, casting an eerie glow in the mostly empty ship. I feel scared and worried. I have the creepy sensation that I may be a grown-up by the time we get there! I glance over at Hawk and Celeste to see that they are still blue tenyear-olds. Whew! That’s good, I guess.
I have a panic attack as they carry us off the spaceship. The aliens separate us and take Hawk and Celeste to the right and me to the left. “Wait!” I whimper, but my captors ignore me and march me into their bubble world strapped to a stretcher. Above me, I see an outer shell made of thousands of solar panels. It looks like a power-generating megastructure. It’s so futuristic—I think I’ve been transported thousands of years into the future. There’s stuff happening all around me—blue aliens are coming and going, some grunting and chattering, and I notice their surprised reactions to my presence. Or maybe it’s the color of my skin that is causing all the commotion? I’ve never had to worry so much about my skin color. My mom says my skin glitters like gold, but really it’s just a bronze color. I feel guilty sometimes when my classmates think of me as white, but I don’t correct them. Or, like if someone tells a joke about a black person, and I laugh along or don’t say anything. Does that mean I’m a racist, too? 44 45 They unstrap me from the stretcher and leave me in a locked chamber, alone with my thoughts. I sit down, feeling sorry for myself. What have I gotten myself into? I hold my head in my hands. Now I’m in jail. My pop told me that, when he was a young protestor, he and his friends were put in jail because of the color of their skin. Aarrgh! I don’t want to think about this stuff anymore. I start to cry. I just want to go back to my neighborhood on Earth where kids like me and I can play basketball and video games without worrying about the color of my skin—or Pop’s skin.
Rubbing my eyes, I notice a pile of blankets and rags in the corner and decide to investigate. I approach cautiously and reach out to pull a layer back when— something moves! I jump back and use my ESP, “Hello? Is there anybody in there?”
I am shocked to see a small red alien pop his head out of the pile and look around, confused. When he sees me, he immediately dives back undercover. I see the blankets shaking as he trembles under them.
“Hey, little dude, it’s okay. My name is Matt, and I’m from Planet Earth.” I slowly approach the quivering pile and pull the blanket back.
“You from other world?” a little voice says in my head as a small red face with a tiny beak and little horns looks shyly at me. He looks like the blue guys, but smaller—and bright red like Darth Maul, but way cuter.
“Yes. There are three of us, but your blue guys aren’t too friendly,” I say, pacing around the small room like a caged animal.
“Your cells are toxic; that is why you in disease chamber . . . with me,” the little alien replies sadly, burrowing into the filthy rags again.
“You mean they think we have a disease because of the color of our skin?” I say, trying to understand. “Can you help me get out of here?” I ESP him.
“I cannot help even myself!” he cries miserably, trembling under the blanket. “Maybe we can help each other?” I ask. His head pops out, and he looks at me with a rag comically covering half his face. “No one offer Teal help before.”
“Is that your name, little dude? Teal?” I ask, smiling, and he nods.
“Let’s make a deal. If you help me get out of here, I’ll help you get back to your family.”
Anne Birdgenaw © 2023
