I've been coaching 7th and 8th grade girls basketball and, obviously, have taken a break from writing. In that time, though, my short story for teens came out in the UK. You can purchase a copy of the anthology here. Pretty dang cool!

The other night, we couldn't get in the gym to practice and so we went to the other coach's' house and went over plays and then did crafts. While we were doing crafts, one of the girls was playing music. She was playing Aaliyah, TLC, old Destiny's Child--all the jams of my youth. As I knew all the words to all of the songs (because that's what I do--I can't dance, so distract from my dancing, I sing loudly. I can't sing, so I know all the words to all of the songs to distract from my singing), the girls were pretty impressed. I'd gained my cool card. Imagine how I could have amazed them if they'd played Outkast, Nelly, Tupac, Jay-Z or honestly almost any rap song produced between 1996 and 2007. I didn't get to show my sweet rap game, but that these songs resonated with me over 10 years ago when I was their age and younger and they are still listening to the songs now, and we all know all of the words, made me think about music and how girls will always be girls. Who can't relate to No Scrubs or Bug a Boo? 

One of my girls recently competed in a city wide academic competition on a team for her middle school. The kids on her team didn't know their tests were being sent in for the contest. They didn't study beforehand to prep like they could have had they known what the tests were for. They placed 4th out of 76 teams. My girl got first in Literature. I cheered her success as loudly as I could, but she told me she wished her parents shared my enthusiasm. Her parents made it to every basketball game. They were our only fans. I told her maybe they know how to cheer for sports but not for academics. She then asked me what I was like when I was her age. I laughed. I was just like her. Smart with nerdy friends. Athletic with jock friends. Never fitting in quite with either crowd. She then told me the greatest thing. She said, "That's the thing, Erin. Some people just don't get it. And some people are just gonna judge and I just gotta do me every day. I like myself. I don't want to be anybody else." "The sooner people can think like you," I told her, "the happier they'll be." 

We then started talking about poetry and music and how often people don't think about words. I had to play her my anthem of the last few months Elle King's American Sweetheart. (Listen to it. Read the words. It's the greatest.) After we jammed out, my wise eighth grade friend told me that Elle's song sounded like really living. "Being yourself and loving being you with as much passion is behind that song," she said, "that's really living." I was blown away. I don't know how she got so smart, but I hope we have some serious writing days in the future.