Dad’s Beach Lessons

Dad’s Beach Lessons

1.  As you’re packing the cooler, remember a little too much is the perfect amount. The coldest drinks are going to be at the bottom. The beer goes in first.

2.  Carry meat tenderizer in your beach bag for jelly fish stings. Pat stings with wet sand; don’t rub. Suck it up and get back in the water.

3.  If you’re caught in a rip current, don’t fight it. Relax. Slowly work your way across the current, usually parallel to the shore until you’re free. Once out, if you continue to swim a little farther parallel, there’s a good chance you’ll hit another current that will take you back to shore. Do not tire yourself out by fighting the current or waving your arms or shouting. I’m busy. You can handle this.

4.  Ice cold water from the beach showers isn’t cold. Suck it up and get back in that water. No way you’re coming near the car like that.

5.  After washing all the sand off, if you walk correctly—high, flat, carefully placed steps, no flicking your slippahs or dragging your towel, you can make it to the car sand-free. Otherwise you have to start all over.

6.  At volleyball, old and treacherous beats young and enthusiastic every time.

7.  Spitting into a swim mask keeps it from fogging, but unless you’re a tourist or spear fishing you don’t need a mask. Just open your eyes. It’s good for you.

8.  If you don’t want someone to pee on your foot, watch out for wana when climbing around the tide pools.

9.  When the sun sets, get out of the water. Sharks come in and feed at dawn, dusk, and through the night, especially near harbors and the mouths of rivers. Better you don’t swim there. Everybody knows sharks prefer white meat, and you look way too haole to chance ‘em.

10.  Run to the big wave, not away.

11.  Nobody ever died from rolling up the beach no matter how much ocean and sand they coughed up. Told you to run to the big wave, not away. Now suck it up and get back in the water.

E ho’omaha me ka maluhia a hui hou kakou, Papa-san.

Book Review: The Islands at the End of the World by Austin Aslan

Book Review: The Islands at the End of the World by Austin Aslan

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.

Blast from the Past: Pidgin English Children’s Stories

Blast from the Past: Pidgin English Children’s Stories

I’m working on an introduction to short story I wrote that’s going to be in an anthology of retold fairy and other traditional tales published by University of Hawaii. My into is waaaaaay overdue. I’m working on the fourth completely new version–I didn’t like my previous attempts. Hoping fourth time’s the charm.

But as I’ve been thinking about fairy tales and what makes a story Hawaiian vs Islander vs Malihini vs Outsider, I remembered the first time I heard a western fairy tale told through an islander lens. It was a record called Pidgin English Children’s Stories. I heard  it in the “listening center” at Kahului or maybe Kihei elementary school, a corner of a large classroom that had a record player and a couple of big can headphones that connected into the player with giant phone jacks. The headphones were so big–or our heads were so small–we had to hold  them onto our heads with both hands. When I close my eyes, I can still smell the dusty wood smell of the cabinet where the records were kept and even  feel the wobbly cardboard cover. We had two records in our listening center–this one and “Paint it Black” by the Rolling Stones. Not kidding. Life really is weirder than fiction.

It’s also true that everything is on the internet. Originally recorded in 1961, I found one of the stories from the album–Cinderella–on YouTube. Listening to it again, here’s a lot I didn’t understand as a kid. But maybe the best stories are that way–they grow with us. If you’re interested, here’s the link. And now to get back to that intro I’m writing! (Sorry! It’s coming today, promise!)

Pacific Islander Books: MIDDLE GRADE

Pacific Islander Books: MIDDLE GRADE

May is Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month in the United States (AAPI Month). Through out May, I’m going to be posting about books written by Pacific Islanders that celebrate island culture front and center.  Up first:

MIDDLE GRADE

There’s a wide range of what’s considered middle grade, with the sweet spot as a story that’s on at least a 5th grade reading level with a complex story structure centered around themes and characters  that reflect the interests and lived experiences of 5th through about 9th graders. Crushes are perfect. Anger, loss, or awareness of a bigger world and the challenges it brings are also appropriate, as are wonder, joy, fear, and humor. Like kids developmentally this age, characters are often exploring away from adult safety nets, but there’s an underlying sense that while things may be different in the end, it’s going to be okay. Stories that deal with more mature themes–things that go beyond first kisses or delve into abuse–are generally considered Young Adult rather than Middle Grade.

And yes, those things happen to middle graders, too. However, most booksellers and librarians try to keep these imaginary boundaries drawn on their bookshelves, which is why Middle Grade is usually in the Children’s section and Young Adult is in the nomad-land of Teen Fiction, more commonly shelved by genre.

Without further ado, here are Pacific Islander Middle Grade titles you need to read. Click on the image to see it on Amazon.


In the story, 12 year old Kino and her mother move to Hawaii to live with her maternal grandparents in Kalihi, Oahu. With her grandfather ill and her family facing eviction from their home, Kino discovers that she has an ancient destiny to save both Hawaii and her grandfather by going back in time to 1825. There she meets the young Kamehameha III just prior to his ascension to the throne. After meeting with a kahuna at a heiau, it becomes clear that in order to return to her own time,  Kino must go on a quest for four objects gathered from various parts of Oahu—and of course the young prince is going to come along.

As the adventure quest plot unfolds, Jen deftly weaves in aspects of Hawaiian culture and history. Islanders will recognize kapu customs, protocol, and Hawaiian legends such as night marchers, Pele, Kamapua‘a, sacred waterfalls, ‘aumakua, choking ghosts, and magic gourds and calabashes.

Find it on Amazon.

 

 


‘Ewa Which Way by Tyler Miranda peels back the bandage of what adults think adolescence is like to expose the raw, oozing strawberry of reality. I loved this book for its ability to show all the complicated rules, expectations, and entanglements of being a 12-year-old boy trying to make sense out of adult behavior. Set in ‘Ewa Beach, Hawaii in 1982, Landon DeSilva and his brother Luke know that lickins can fall from the sky like lightning, that a certain side-eye from a parent means a storm’s coming, and that sometimes no matter how long you hold your breath you can’t escape, but have to endure the wave to the end.

For Landon, things are bad at home, but not bad enough. Not enough for child protective services to swoop in and spirit Landon and Luke to a new home, not enough for the cops to do more than show up when his parents’ fights wake the neighbors, and not enough for his mother to realize her marriage is over. Throughout the novel Landon tries to figure out what he’s supposed to do when there’s really nothing he can. His parents’ troubles are deep—there’s guilt, prejudices of class and race, loss, alcohol abuse and valium popping coping mechanisms, unfulfilled expectations, and sheer dysfunction. Landon sees it all with the clarity of a twelve-year-old and his reactions and understandings are heartbreaking and true. Adult readers will read not only the story, but all the words and character motivations between the lines. It’s powerful, immediate, and like a bloody scrapped knee, painfully evocative of the transition between childhood and adulthood.

Find it on Amazon.

 


Other books to consider:

The Calvin Coconut series by Graham Salisbury

The Niuhi Shark Saga trilogy by Lehua Parker
ONE BOY, NO WATER
ONE SHARK, NO SWIM
ONE TRUTH, NO LIE

and upcoming Lauele Chicken Skin Story
UNDER KONA’S BED

Lauele Short: Jon’s Slippah

Lauele Short: Jon’s Slippah

Ten year-old Jon Nainoa walked along the edge of the sea, his slippahs flip, flip, flipping sand up the backs of his legs and sticking to the ‘okole of his swim trunks.

Jon didn’t care.

The sun was shining. His belly was full, stuffed with a bamboocha spam musubi given to him by Aunty Nora, the kind lady who lived near Hari’s convenience store. She often kept treats and snacks in the pockets of her big work apron and made like it was no big deal to hand them out to Jon whenever she saw him.

But it was a big deal.

It was the first meal Jon had eaten in two days.

The twins were younger and came first. Everyone knew that.

Walking along, Jon bopped to the song playing in his head. He often listened to music playing in ways only he could hear. He didn’t think about it much. Head-music was better than a radio whose batteries could die or some uncle or cousin’s off-key singing.

Plus head-music helped drown out all the voices he heard, voices no one else did.

Bbbbbbpppphtttt!

It was the sound of a trombone slide, a sound that wasn’t music, not quite, but always came just before something bad happened.

POP!

His slippah broke.

Jon stopped and fished it out of the water. He inspected the damage: the post had pulled through. “Ah, man!” he said, “Now how I going walk home? Hot, you know, on the asphalt! I cannot hop all that way!”

“Grab the bread tie,” said a gravelly voice.

“What?” Jon looked around.

“The bread tie! The red one! It’s almost buried in the sand right next your other foot. Hurry!”

Jon snatched the u-shaped tie just before the white seafoam hid it forever. “Got ‘em!” he said.

“Great. Now push the post through the puka in the bottom of the shoe and slide the bread tie so it secures the post to the bottom.”

Jon fiddled a moment, then said, “Like this?” He gave the strap a tug. “Oh, I get it! It works! Wow! Mahalo…” he trailed off. “Eh, where you stay?”

“Behind you.”

Jon whirled around. “Where?”

“Down here,” said the voice.

Jon tilted his head down and stood there, mouth open and blinking hard. “Are you for real?”

“Of course. At least as real as you are.”

“But you’re a turtle,” Jon said.

“Yeah. The best folks are.”


Writing prompts: a turtle, a plastic bread tie, a trombone


This short was created on Jan. 14, 2021 for PEAU Women’s Writing Crew. More Lauele stories staring Jon to come!

Provenance

Provenance

College Daughter: Mom! My anthropology professor wants to know the provenance of our poi pounder. What’s the story?

Me: (takes deep breath) Circa 2003, Waimea, Big Island, local craft fair. Composed of ceramic red clay with fake stone flocking.

CD: WHAT?

Me: It’s not real. If it was, it would be 20 times heavier and in a museum. And the koa poi pounding board underneath?

CD: Yeah?

Me: Acacia serving tray from Target. I bought it two years ago.

CD: Noooooooooo!

Me: Yeah. Sorry to pop that inheritance bubble.

 

#Didn’tyoueverpickitup? #holeinthebottom #fauxHawaiiana #Istilllikeit