Mona Alvarado Frazier on The Grittier Side of Writing

Growing up, I was an avid reader. But none of the books I read in my childhood reflected my environment and daily challenges. There were no stories about the people I encountered—the ones who dealt with poverty and discrimination or were involved in social justice issues and community projects.

My family and community's obstacles weren’t reflected in contemporary literature. It wasn’t until college that I discovered novels written by Latinos or Latinas that mirrored these experiences.

As a writer, I wanted to reveal these experiences and exemplify important issues often overlooked regarding young people and those of color.

Each year, around 12 percent of American high schoolers experience emotional, physical, or sexual violence at the hands of someone they date. Young women, transgender teens, and gender-nonconforming youth are disproportionately affected.

It's essential to recognize that IPV affects young people of color at a disproportionate rate. According to studies, Latinas and Black women experience IPV at a rate much higher than White women, and Native American women are twice as likely to experience IPV than any other group.

The statistics are alarming. Experiences of physical or sexual violence in childhood are reported by 60-70% of incarcerated women or girls. Many of the perpetrators are people familiar to the victim.

In my novel, The Garden of Second Chances, I sought to amplify the voices of young women in prison and the often ignored issue of Intimate Partner Violence (IPV).

My main character, Juana Maria, is a seventeen-year-old mother from Mexico who lives in the U.S. with the father of her child. She experiences the terror of IPV firsthand. Her boyfriend's abusive behavior escalates until she feels she has no choice but to run away with her baby during the abuse. Tragically, this results in his death, and she is convicted of manslaughter.

In prison, Juana Maria learns her situation is all too common among young women. Many have experienced IPV but are hesitant to talk about it, unsure whether their experiences constitute abuse.

Unique challenges can contribute to the lack of reporting the abuse: economic instability, fear of the police, fear of deportation, the lack of access to resources, cultural or religious views, and family or peer pressure.

IPV is a power-based behavior that uses control and manipulation to maintain relationships. It can take many forms, from physical violence to emotional abuse, and it doesn't always happen in person. Cyberstalking and the non-consensual distribution of intimate images are also forms of IPV. These behaviors can occur while dating a partner, but various forms of manipulation by the perpetrator may mask the red flags.

One of the biggest challenges with IPV is that people often suffer in silence. They may not realize the experience is abuse, or they may be afraid to speak out for fear of retaliation, or others won’t believe them. This can lead to long-term effects: PTSD, depression, and substance abuse.

In my novel, I explore these factors to highlight the obstacles to reporting IPV and clarify why many young women don’t report abuse.

As writers, we must tackle tough subjects head-on and raise awareness. We need to give voice to those who have been silenced or don’t know where to access resources.

If you write young adult fiction, consider exploring topics about the harsher side of life. Your story could make a difference in the lives of young people who desperately need to understand that they are not alone.

Mona Alvarado Frazier is fulfilling her passion for writing after decades of working with incarcerated youth and raising three kids as a single parent. When she’s not penning a story, she’s traveling, reading, watching K-dramas, or tending her succulent gardens and two grand kitties. She is a member of SCBWI, Macondo Writers, and a co-founder of LatinxPitch, a Twitter event. Mona’s second book, a historical fiction, is scheduled for December 2024. You can visit her website for more information. 

Regina Buttner on A Humorous Look at NOT Dating Over 50

If you should happen to do an internet search for “Dating over 50,” you’ll find tons of advice, most of it geared toward middle-aged women. Your search will yield bullet-pointed lists of issues for the mature dater to consider as you “get back into the game.” Dating in our fifties is different from what it was in our twenties, the experts caution, and we must take that into consideration as we re-embark on our search for love. We are wiser and more experienced now, and our tastes and needs have changed, too.

Well, I certainly hope so! There are some people who yearn for a magical elixir that will restore them to the glory days of their youth when they were wild and free, and their future was a blank page. Not me, though. I enjoyed plenty of good times with my girl crew during our teens and early twenties, going to concerts, taking random roadtrips, partying into the night. We went out with guys who were definitely The One, might possibly be The One, or had no chance at all of being The One. We met guys who we prayed would call us, and guys we hurriedly ghosted, long before “ghosting” was even a thing.

Yes, I had lots of fun in my younger days, but I eventually settled down, got married and started a family. Unfortunately, after the marriage had run its dismal course, I found myself single once again. Learning to socialize as a divorcee was a whole new world for me. Each time I joined my married siblings and their spouses for a dinner out, I felt like I was doing perpetual penance as a third or a fifth wheel. “Why don’t you try one of the online dating sites?” a successfully re-dating friend suggested. “Everyone’s doing it now. It’s not just for losers anymore.”

Thanks, girlfriend. I did eventually agree to give online dating a shot—which turned out to be an apt metaphor. It was like shooting in the dark at a moving target. After a few weeks of scrolling through countless profile photos and reading enlightening bios about Gabe who prefers steak over pizza, and Marcus who was “looking for someone to spend time with” (isn’t that what dating essentially is?), I was ready to pack it in. My inbox was full of messages from catfishers, narcissists, obviously married men (duh, your wedding band is showing in that out-of-focus golf pic), and a disturbing number of outright weirdos. Thank you for your interest, gentlemen, but I’m good!

Time for a paradigm shift. I gave my single situation a great deal of deep reflection, and decided it wasn’t so bad after all. As an unattached person, I have the freedom to do as I please, whenever I please. I can stay up reading till midnight if the mood strikes me, or take off to the beach on a whim. I can cook myself a nice meal at dinnertime, or not bother to eat till midnight if it suits my mood. My dog can commandeer the entire other half of the bed if she wants to (and she often does—she’s a corgi, and corgis have long bodies). Sour grapes? Nah. Those fish can stay in the sea. I’ll be paddling over their heads in my kayak, enjoying the solitary ride.

Regina Buttner is a registered nurse-turned-writer who was raised in beautiful upstate New York, where she spent many years exploring the small towns, winding back roads, and scenic hiking trails in the Adirondack mountain region. She recently traded the snowy upstate winters for the sun and surf of coastal Florida (but in my heart, I'm still a North Country girl!) Her favorite pastimes in the Sunshine State are kayaking among the mangroves, walking the gorgeous beaches, and attempting to teach tricks to my crafty little corgi, Pekoe. Down a Bad Road is her second novel, with more to come!

Alenka Vrecek on Healing and Rebuilding Life

By: Alenka Vrecek

In solitude I found a very different kind of strength, one I’d never experienced. I was purging poisons from my body and mind. I was cultivating the soil in which fresh seeds of life could be planted again. And for that, I needed to be alone, as painful or as lonely as it sometimes felt. 

I wrote these words a month into my 2500 mile bike journey. Every day I would spend endless hours pushing my bike up impossibly steep and long climbs, following Sierra and Baja Divide through remote and often hostile environment. I needed the physical pain, the raw feeling of vulnerability on the fringes of life and death, precisely so I could feel alive. During the long stretches of alone time, I created space into which fresh life energy could flow. I captured my thoughts by typing them into the iPhone on the side of a dusty trail, or at lunch break, or laying exhausted on a deflated pad in my tent at night before they vanished. Just like on my long, difficult, and often dangerous bike journey, I was healing during my writing process. Each day I learned something new; I was reinventing myself. 

The idea to ride a bike from my home in Lake Tahoe, to my second home in Baja, Mexico, was born on a short bike ride between my daughter’s games at the soccer tournament in Medford, Oregon. My husband of fifteen years and I were in the process of a complicated divorce. There was plenty of sadness, confusion, fear, and uncertainty. Desperate for a change and an adventure, I wrote the idea on the back page of my Rumi poetry book, which was my constant companion. 

Years went by and life with work and three kids was busy. Then I met the man of my life and six years later we married on the top of the mountain overlooking Lake Tahoe. It was a crisp, sunny, winter day. We found happiness in a home we created for our blended family. The kids were growing older and one by one they left for college. Then, all at once, life unraveled. A devastating ski accident ended my thirty-year-long ski coaching career and with that I lost my identity. While recovering and still on crutches, I felt the lump on my right breast and instinctively knew it was not supposed to be there. Surgeries, chemo, and radiation followed. During the last round of chemo, I had my first routine colonoscopy. It revealed a carpeting of polyps. I was fifty-two-years old and facing the end of life for the second time in the same year. Everything was slipping away in a hurry. While waiting for the removal of my entire colon for which the date was already set, my husband announced he had Parkinson’s. His self-diagnosis was confirmed by doctors only a handful of days later. 

One day, lying in bed and feeling sorry for myself, I reached for my worn out Rumi poetry book and it just so happened, it opened on the page where I wrote the words fifteen years earlier. The idea of riding my bike from Tahoe to the tip of Baja Peninsula was now an inner command. I had that many more reasons to follow my dream and go on this long and crazy bike ride. 

The kids were grown up and didn’t need me much anymore. My cancer and my husband’s Parkinson’s diagnosis gave me full permission to do something greater than myself. Sick of hospitals, I deferred the removal of my colon. I was running out of time and I did not want to have regrets. 

On my two month-long journey I wrote a blog to share the experiences with family and friends. People I didn’t even know, encouraged me to write a book. Sure, I thought, what a great idea. I’ll just turn my blog into a book, send it to a major publishing company and they will love it so much, offers for the book deal will rush in. Ha!

I quickly learned how wrong I was. Receiving rejection letters one after another, made me realize how much I had to learn. I asked for help and received it. I wanted to learn more, and I took every opportunity to do so. I continued honing my writing skills by taking as many online courses as I could and attended writing conferences. 

COVID insinuated itself into our lives, and I had no excuse but to write. It was a cathartic, cleansing and a healing process. Collaborating with accomplished writers and working with editors, I was learning, creating and experiencing personal growth. Word after word, page after page, She Rides was born.

Life throws challenges at us all, and even in the darkest of hours, we somehow find the way to survive and the strength to move on. Like the parched desert after the soaking rains, we spring back to life. We all have to find our own way, but reading stories about adventures, struggles and triumphs of others, can inspire us and show us we are not alone. I hope that by sharing my story, others will relate and find the strength to get out of their comfort zone and follow their own long forgotten and deeply buried dreams. 

Alenka Vrecek was born at the foot of the Alps in Slovenia, a part of former communist Yugoslavia. Born with a spirit for adventure, she came to America at twenty years old with a backpack, a pair of skis, and a pocket full of dreams. She was a ski coach and a director of Pedagogy for Squaw Valley and Alpine Meadows Ski Teams for thirty years. Alenka owns Tahoe Tea Company and lives in Lake Tahoe, California, with her second husband, Jim, their four children, three grandchildren, and a Golden Retriever named Monty.