Elizabeth Acevedo
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    • Family Lore
    • The Poet X
    • With the Fire on High
    • Clap When You Land
    • Inheritance
    • Write Yourself a Lantern
    • Beastgirl
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I could talk about how thrilling writing this nove I could talk about how thrilling writing this novel was. How I pushed myself beyond what I thought I could do with language and storytelling. How I tried so many different experiments of narrative and character and structure. How I tried to give dignity and nuance and love love love to each Marte woman in the book. I could talk about what it cost me to be big pregnant, then big postpartum, then weaning all while editing and planning and touring. How much I had to face myself and what I thought to be true about myself. I loved this book. I loved this book and it went out into the world when I felt at my most vulnerable and I’m still trying to put language to all the ways my relationship to the text changed and changed again and ultimately, changed me. One day I’ll talk about all these things when I have more distance, more clarity. But for now I’ll say, thank you to every reader of this novel. Thank you to every person who saw the art making, the experiments, and let me know they saw it and me. And thank you to the @naacpimageawards for choosing FAMILY LORE for this year’s literary award in fiction. May we all continue to make with wild abandon, with vast ambition; may we pit ourselves against the boundaries of craft with joy with dedication with love love love
What more needs to be said? This is going to be an What more needs to be said? This is going to be an epic evening. Can’t wait to join @writercruz in celebrating the GOAT, @writerjalvarez.
The littlest human in our family dipped his feet i The littlest human in our family dipped his feet into the ocean of Kiskeya…and he wasn’t feeling it. He loves splashing during bath time and playing in the pool so I had pictured him curious and eager to play in the ocean. But of course my kiddo is also a thoughtful little one and he took one look at the vastness of this body of water, and the waves which were no joke, and the sand sticking to his feet, and immediately wanted to be picked up. It was a reminder to be mindful of the ways in which I want him to experience the world vs how removing my expectations better allows me to experience him. I don’t need to curate how things feel for him nor attach myself to outcomes. And getting that on the very first day set the tone. This short trip back was beautiful. The sticky heat, the humidity, the swaying palm trees, the tart and fresh chinola, the big cousins with our new generation of little cousins, the noise-filled nights, the cold beers, my Tía’s hugs, my uncle’s loving check ins, my husband whispering: this is so dope. This moment. It’s just so dope. 💗
Trying to be more intentional with the moments whe Trying to be more intentional with the moments where I sit back and appreciate what a wild, wild life this has been. Here is my little one, who is getting too big too fast (how is he standing?!) and my first novel. 💗💗💗 Special thanks to the curators of the National Museum of the American Latino who included THE POET X in the inaugural exhibition, ¡Presente!
I can’t believe FAMILY LORE has been in the world I can’t believe FAMILY LORE has been in the world for an entire month! Thank you to every single person who made this launch possible. I am so grateful to @eccobooks and @coloringbooks for making the release so special, to all the bookstores, library and conversation partners for making the events top-notch, and to the readers who pulled up! Every time I think of each tour stop my heart gets soooo full. Deeply humbled. 💗💗💗
FAMILY LORE wishing you a Good Morning, a Good Day FAMILY LORE wishing you a Good Morning, a Good Day, and a Good Death (when that day comes). May we get our flowers while we’re here to press fingers to petals. 💐
LONG CAPTION: Spent this weekend before tour kick LONG CAPTION: Spent this weekend before tour kicking it with the homies, cooking together, watching storms, talking shit and deep breathing in nature. I won’t lie, FAMILY LORE stretched me. It required a deep commitment to my instincts and extending trust to my inner voice. Post-partum adjusting and pre-pub anxieties have made me question both. I wanted to snatch the book back and hide all the exposed soft parts. But taking the time to reflect on how I made the biggest, most ambitious, bravest book I was capable of writing was the recentering I needed. “Narrative is radical, creating us at the very moment it is being created. We will not blame you if your reach exceeds your grasp; if love so ignites your words they go down in flames and nothing is left but their scald.” Toni Morrison All of which is to stay, I hope folks who pick up the book fuck with it, and I can’t wait to talk about all the things that are these characters and story. I’m ready. As a reminder, I'll be in conversation with some phenomenal writers and looking forward to seeing your faces! A few venues have a waitlist or are at capacity, so use the link in my bio to learn more.  And for those you cannot attend, there's still time to sign up for my virtual fan event AND SIGNED COPIES ARE AVAILABLE TO PREORDER! Link also available in my bio. See you soon beloveds.
Recording an audiobook is often the toughest and m Recording an audiobook is often the toughest and most exciting stage of the novel for me. It’s the last time I really hear the book, get to submit a few tweaks, and hype myself up for all the work that went into making a story alive. FAMILY LORE was no different! FAMILY LORE is told from the voices of six women, so when recording the audiobook I got the pleasure of working with @afrodominicanxthings and @sixtalee to perform some of the character interviews. Not to toot my own horn (JK, I’m toot tooting!), but FAMILY LORE is one of @librofm's most pre-ordered books of the summer, so make sure to check it out! And if you do preorder, submit receipt to the link in my bio to enter the virtual book club event happening August 23rd.
Happiest of birthday’s to this queen! So much swag Happiest of birthday’s to this queen! So much swag, so much sweetness. I don’t know what I did in another lifetime to be granted your friendship for the duration of this one, but I give thanks, lung. I would throw punches for you clutching a wallet full of pennies on any day! I would lie that you’re at the library with me so you can go kick it with cuties in any life! I hope we FaceTime every single morning in every single dimension where we know each other. What would I do without your sisterhood? I hope to never find out. May this year manifest everything you desire. 💗
I have never doubted I could love Shakir more, bec I have never doubted I could love Shakir more, because as we grow I am constantly delighted by new and deepened facets him, but watching him father our baby has shown me a tenderness, sweetness, kindness that I couldn’t have anticipated would spark such a glowing adoration. He is just the best father and co parent and lover I could have ever imagined. My man my man my man, my baby daddy, my life partner, my confidant and co-conspirator: we are so lucky to be your family. Happy Father’s Day! We love you! 💗
Mama is outside ✨ I’ve been writing a lot of poem Mama is outside ✨ I’ve been writing a lot of poems about motherhood, and feeling alien in my life, and what return/forward/nostalgia/loss/abundance looks and feels like. I’ve been writing about hunger for the past and for a version of myself I may have never been but that I somehow keep remembering with rose-colored glasses. I’ve been writing about the body. About weaning myself from body positivity and self-love and trying to simply get to body equilibrium, a calmness around the mirror without the desire to contort. I’ve been writing about weaning and the weepiness of feeding my babe differently much sooner than I’d planned. I’ve been writing about the birth which was not the peaceful bringing of life I had hoped and left scar tissue I’m still massaging into a memory I can look at. By writing I mean I’ve been actually writing, but by writing I also mean I’ve been processing because writing is thinking, is working through the knot of a thing in language, and by doing so naming the feelings and greeting them and inviting them to stay or go, but at least they’re not just strangers. I’ve been “ode-hunting.” Searching for the praise poems as I also sift through so so so many new feelings. And so praise to the water, to the blessing of the boats, to the mirror selfie, to the braided and golden, praise to my true love, to his kindness and patience, to his hold and my own.
I dreamt/prayed/labored so hard to bring both thes I dreamt/prayed/labored so hard to bring both these loves to fruition. Been thinking a lot this week about what it means to be five months postpartum and back outside; a woman chasing the stories and poems and the time-consuming honesty required for both all while wanting to be ever present for my little one. I missed myself so much. The self that wrote lines when they struck and who talked to smart people about art publicly. I missed the self who enjoyed airports and the thrill of a stage. I did not miss the post-event anxiety where I second-guessed my work or compared myself to other writers. But for the most part it felt good to be back in the thick of my artistic life. But wow. Not having my kid around is a visceral ache. I kept checking my pockets, my back pack. I walked back to my guest room twice, sure I’d left a necessity behind. “I’m forgetting something” I repeated to the event escorts. But it was someone that was missing. My body remembers this new Liz as an extension of the baby. Even when I was focused on a discussion or my reading the little one hummed in the back of my mind. It’s kind of trippy. I have a lot more to say about how I’m crafting a definition of “working mama,” how I’m acclimating to this new way I need to lengthen and stretch but for now just this pic of two loves meeting…although to be fair, baby heard me read from this in utero a ton while I was drafting, so baby has had practice playing nice while momma follows dreams 💗
Sometimes, the baby will be napping and I’ll have Sometimes, the baby will be napping and I’ll have a moment of quiet. I’ll lose myself in social or a book or whatever thing I’m using to take a break from being “on.” And then the baby wakes up and it’s like I awake to the reality all over again: I’m somebody’s momma. It feels both like I’ve always been, and like everyday it hits anew. And ain’t that wild? And ain’t that wildly wonderful? 💓
2022 Year-End-Review: Hair Edition 2022 Year-End-Review: Hair Edition
During my last round of FAMILY LORE revisions, the During my last round of FAMILY LORE revisions, the copy editor wondered at the intense descriptions of the characters entering their homes. It hadn’t been conscious craft at work on my end: I legit hadn’t realized that I put a stopgap in the book each time the characters walked into a house. But once the CE pointed it out, I couldn’t unsee how the book was riddled with my musings on returnings and reenterings. On what it means to unlock a door with bated breath for what’s on the other side; on what you might be letting in. On the liminality that exists between the threshold of where we were and the one where we will be. Five years after our commitment ceremony, I still want to cross through every entryway that leads me to this beloved human of mine. I can’t wait to see what other portals we construct. Also, shoutout to looking for a picture and finding one you like and then following an extended metaphor towards what may be a corny or wonderful (who knows, the line between brilliant language and overwrought can be so thin) caption. In case y’all were wondering if I pre-write and schedule my posts, I don’t. These joints are spur of the moment “oh, it’s our anniversary maybe I should post!” type joints. This new sleep deprived mami is currently just trying to plan her naps. But first and always: Happy anniversary, my guy! 💗
Interrupting your regularly scheduled baby bump ph Interrupting your regularly scheduled baby bump photo barrage with my first ever reel courtesy of The @PoetryFoundation sending me something sparkly. Your Young People’s Poet Laureate has entered the chat.
That time I decided to cosplay as my momma. This i That time I decided to cosplay as my momma. This is her pregnant with me, and me on my last day pregnant with little homie. Thank goodness for Halloween season because I’d been trying to find a dress that worked for months! ♥️
Our goal is that little one knows who they are and Our goal is that little one knows who they are and whose they are. 💕 📸: @conradomuluc
We decided early on we wanted to enjoy this pregna We decided early on we wanted to enjoy this pregnancy as a sacred and inward-facing time for our little family. Over the last nine months my favorite and most honest response to the question “how are you doing?” was to say I was in the season of sweetness. Incubating this little spirit was magical. I’m sure watching baby grow outside of me will be equally as trippy…if for no other reason than because I’m hallucinating from lack of sleep! Now our little love is earthside I am delighted to celebrate the past year a bit more publicly… so gird your loins because baby bump photos are going to overtake the grid! Mami Liz est. October 2022 ✨
Thirteen years yesterday. We had a nice dinner at Thirteen years yesterday. We had a nice dinner at a spot within walking distance. Sat side by side which is our favorite way to share food, (and to be quietly messy!). We reflected on our growth, individually and as a unit. We shook our heads at the audacity of 20 year olds. We said thanks to our ancestors at how we learned grace side by side. I love this man differently, singularly than when we first got together, and I’ve learned that his love pushing me to stretch, to be my biggest most aligned self, is a gift beyond what I thought partnership could offer when I was young. Our family’s functioning definition of love: “Love as 'the will to extend one's self for the the purpose of nurturing one's own or another's spiritual growth. ' Love is as love does. Love is an act of will–namely, both an intention and an action.” bell hooks
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