Unleashing Readers

“The Whole Family: Story’s Ability to Connect Young Readers to Second Culture Heritage”

When I started writing my YA novel Kat’s Greek Summer, the idea was to write a story loosely based on summers I spent as a young teen in a tiny Greek fishing village visiting the Greek side of my family. What surfaced immediately in my process was a blaze of memories full of sun-soaked locales and colorful Greeks. Strangely though, as soon as I put a “character” into those memories, other memories surfaced—ones that were not so sun-soaked or all that colorful. My 14 yro character began asking questions about her experiences and her family that had my adult/writer mind asking questions about my own murky connection to my Greek heritage. Questions that my younger self didn’t have the foresight, or maybe the courage, to ask.

As I asked myself these questions, my writer-self wondered about kids and teens coming from a similar background: not one of tangible trauma or overt and brutal racism, but one where mixed heritage was invisible and perhaps ignored. How that invisibility could result in a lack of connection to the larger family, and maybe even a deep-seated sense of confusion, isolation and shame about that larger family. Children, young teens especially, have a strong need to belong, to be part of the group, so when that sense of belonging is challenged, isolation, shame and hiding are a likely byproduct. Growing up half American half Greek, I often found myself in that liminal space of not belonging in either of my family worlds, and feelings of isolation, shame and hiding were certainly a big part of my childhood.

A little background: my mother is a full-blooded—born and raised in Athens—Greek who married an American, and moved with him to America to live and raise a family. In the early days of their marriage, they didn’t spend much time in Greece or with the Greek side of the family. My dad didn’t speak Greek and none of my mother’s family spoke English. Travel was expensive and Greece was a long, long way from our Connecticut home. My mom spoke fluent English and became an American citizen, quickly diving deeply into her life as an American.

After my parents divorced, she did seek Greek community where we lived in Connecticut, but by then the dye was cast for pre-teen me. I didn’t speak Greek and we didn’t live anywhere close to a Greek-American neighborhood. Sure, we went to the Greek church, only it was about 30 minutes from our house and none of my school friends went to that church because none of them were Greek. I spent Sunday after Sunday sitting in a pew not understanding a word the priest said. And there lies one of the main disconnects.

Even though my mom started taking me to Greece during the summer holidays to spend time with my yiayiá and some other relatives, by then I was old enough to feel the full weight of how different I was from my Greek cousins, and how I didn’t belong. I never got a feel for the Greek language—the different alphabet didn’t help—and looks-wise I took after my dad’s mostly Dutch heritage. When we went to Greece no one really looked like me. The food was different, the smells were different, and all around me was a cacophony of Greek conversation that I didn’t understand. Everything was foreign to me and none of the grownups, my mom included, thought to take time to make anything understandable to me. Sure, I had a bunch of fun/happy times with my Greek relatives, but mostly I was along for a ride where, I suppose, somehow, I was expected to “fit in with the Greeks” by osmosis. Long story short, I didn’t.

Cut to many years later as Kat’s Greek Summer percolated in my brain. Here’s a brief description of the book: soon to be high school freshman Kat Baker is all about training for the cross-country team this summer. Then her Greek mom knocks her off-course by dragging her to Greece. To meet the family. How can a girl train in ninety-billion degrees? And with a sharp-eyed yiayiá watching her every move? Determined to keep her running dream alive, Kat embarks on a risk-filled odyssey, discovering that self-truth is at the heart of dreams, first love—even family—and that it is up to her to speak up and claim the heritage that is uniquely hers.

Though the basic premise of my book tells a lot of my own story, fictionalizing my youth helped me explore the sense of disconnection and confusion about my identity that I experienced as a child and teen, much of which was the result of perceived differences born from a tenuous connection to my mother’s Greek heritage. Writing Kat’s Greek Summer helped me face long-held childhood feelings of shame and hiding about my family, because Kat, my main character, was different enough from childhood-me to ask the questions and make the observations that I never had the courage to ask or make. Her fictional experiences and conversations with her mother, her yiayiá and other Greeks brought adult-me a lot of deep reflection and self-forgiveness. From there sprang a sense of pride about my mixed heritage. Pride I wished I’d had, and been encouraged to develop, as a teen.

I think young readers in particular need to have access to stories about unclear or second heritage and uncertain identity because I believe that—darker, more tangible issues of race and mixed heritage aside—there are many young readers who feel isolated, disconnected and confused about their mixed families, and have no clearcut tools to address their isolation and confusion. That’s where fictional characters become essential, because they are able to spark thoughts, empathy, questions and feelings that may help the reader interrogate their own story. And do so in a way that may ignite genuine conversation with family members that could result ultimately in a stronger sense of family connection and pride, as well as an ability to make healthy decisions around exploring self and family identity.

Published May 13th, 2025 by SparkPress

About the Book: Almost-freshman Kat Baker has big plans to train all summer long so she can become the running goddess of her high school. But when she learns her summer will instead be spent exploring her roots in a rustic Greek village, Kat’s sure her popularity plan is toast. In Greece, punishing heat and cultural clashes force Kat to launch a risky and covert training strategy to keep her running-star dreams alive. During her late-night runs, Kat is swept into encounters with Theofilus Zafirakis, a dreamy but off-limits Greek boy. Soon, Kat’s secret odyssey spirals out of control, putting one of her cousins in danger. In the end, it takes the unexpected meddling of an entire Greek village for her to discover that the key to belonging anywhere is belonging first to herself.

About the Author: Half-Greek, half-American, Mima Tipper and her writing reflect her heritage—a little bit old-country, a little bit rock and roll: one foot wandering through the dreamy realms of myths and faerie tales, the other running on the solid ground of fast-paced, contemporary story. She earned her MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adults from Vermont College of Fine Arts, and has published YA fiction in Hunger Mountain and Sucker Literary magazine. Her YA short story “A Cut-out Face” received an honorable mention from Hunger Mountain’s Katherine Paterson Prize, her work-in-progress “Chasing a Blue So Wild” was a top ten finalist in Voyage YA’s first chapter contest, and her work-in-progress “Channeling Marilyn” came in second place for Paranormal Romance in the Chesapeake Romance Writer’s annual Rudy contest. “Kat’s Greek Summer” will be her first published novel. Beyond devoting most of her time to writing, Mima volunteers at her local library and is committed to promoting literacy. Mima lives in Vermont with her family. Learn more at: www.mimatipper.com.

Thank you, Mima, for sharing how your book connects to your life!

“Bringing History to Life: Call of the Owl Woman–A Novel of Ancient Nasca”

To better navigate a world where differences abound and yet everything is ultimately connected, we need tools like empathy, understanding, and respect for other beings. As a former teacher who has lived in many countries, and as the mother of bicultural children, I am often struck by how many students are unfamiliar with the world outside their own neighborhoods, let alone outside their country. Those who tend to have greater awareness of the wider world have either lived in other places, or are avid readers. But even as an avid reader myself, I’m the first to admit how little I knew about South America before I met my Peruvian husband. When we moved to his homeland, I discovered things that would change my life.

More than a decade later, after my extended family celebrated a three-generation reunion in South Dakota, my then 13-year-old daughter and I embarked on an epic mother-daughter road trip to Atlanta via the Great Lakes. Along the way, she asked me to write something that she and her friends would want to read—preferably a novel that that would include a little romance, bring to life some history from her native Peru, and would include characters from different cultures trying to get to know each other despite language barriers. I accepted her challenge and we proceeded to outline what the book could look like.

We decided that the heroine should come from the earth-honoring Nasca culture that had thrived on the arid southern coast of Peru for almost a thousand years, long before the Inca empire was established. The Nasca people did not have written language, but we were both fascinated by the vast array of stunning ceramics, textiles and mysterious landscape art, as well as their ingenious water systems and evidence of the largest adobe ceremonial center in the world. We added another character who would arrive as a wounded exile from the Moche culture, much further north and chose to set the story in the sixth century, the period shortly before the Nasca people would completely disappear. We wanted to learn about what happened, and imagine how young people at that time might have faced the prospect of environmental and cultural collapse.

We spent a summer working together at an archaeological site in Lima before she dove back into school while I dove into research. The questions I started with were: 1) What lead to the demise of the Nasca culture?  2) How and why did they create the giant lines and animal shapes that can only be seen from the air? 3) How would an earth-honoring culture interpret the environmental crises that plagued the region? and 4) what lessons can we apply to our current environmental challenges?

Since there is no evidence of written language in ancient Peru, to recreate a plausible setting and story, I started by reading everything I could get my hands on and visiting area museums. I interviewed archaeologists, anthropologists, archaeoastronomers, archaeobotanists, geologists, hydrologists and local historians. I immersed myself in the landscape and climbed the dune-covered mountain sacred to the Nasca, spending a night there under a full moon. I visited thousand-year-old guarango trees and explored hidden valleys. I walked the Nazca lines in my head, etched replicas across wide stretches of beach, and doodled my own.  I kept adding more questions.

How did the Nasca manage to harness the underground waters that turned their desert valleys into productive fields? Why were there so many severed heads in their art and in their ritual offerings? What was the meaning behind the orcas (killer whales) and cacti that are so common in their ceramics? Of all the many theories about the Nazca Lines which was closest to the truth of how they were actually used?

The process led me down some unexpected paths. Researching orcas, the ocean’s top predator, opened up a new world of understanding about the intelligence and social aspects of the species and also raised questions about interspecies communication.  Investigating the role of the San Pedro cactus in Nasca art linked it to the earlier Chavin culture, but also led me to explore contemporary cultures where healers still use the cactus ceremonially for “visionary medicine” and consider plants to be teachers of wisdom and guides for healing.

The novel project became much more than a novel. The discovery that there were once great forests in the desert valleys led me to make a documentary with Peruvian filmmaker Delia Ackerman to raise awareness about deforestation and the critical role of the guarango tree. Known by some as the Tree of Life, by others as the King of the Desert, or as the One Tree that unites the three worlds—the heavens above, the world below, and the place we inhabit in between—the guarango also provides food, shelter and fuel, as well as drawing water to the surface from deep underground sources. And in the process of learning about contemporary earth-honoring communities in Peru, from the highest mountains to the deepest jungles, I reconnected to my own gratitude for the planet we call home and renewed my commitment to honoring the earth.

The resulting novel became Call of the Owl Woman – A Novel of Ancient Peru, the story of 15-year-old Patya whose journey from healing to heroine includes wrestling with what is expected of her versus what inspires her. Her beloved grandmother, a renowned healer, has just died and a powerful, corrupt priest is undermining her father’s role as the region’s Water-Guardian. After the priest’s secret attempt to sacrifice her little brother to sharks is foiled by an orca and a Moche sailor, Patya dares to challenge his interpretation of “the will of the gods” and becomes a target as well.

Publishing May 13th, 2025

About the Book: In sixth-century Peru, the Nasca people have flourished for centuries, their faith and ingenuity keeping the desert valleys green in a land where water is scarce. But a prolonged drought now fuels dangerous unrest. Cunning sorcerers and brutal priests vie for control, and Water Guardians like Patya’s father, who refuse to favor the powerful, are under attack.

Devastated by her grandmother’s sudden death, fifteen-year-old Patya retreats into dance and music. She does not want to become a healer like the long lineage of women in her family before her. Even her grandmother had hinted she was born for something else. But, in the wake of a deadly earthquake, Patya must not only help the healers, she must do things she never thought possible. As she begins to conquer her self-doubts and trust her own sense of justice, she will also have to outwit men of power to keep her little brother from being sacrificed by religious extremists at the coming solstice.

As Patya begins to realize and grow into her own power, she also discovers her grandmother’s secret legacy and prepares to step into an unexpected destiny.

“This book is so rich! The story is so compelling I couldn’t put it down. I loved the visceral sensation of movement in the words, felt myself floating, swooping, transforming, transmuting as I read them! It also offers a way know the Nasca and the rhythms of ceremony in Andean pre-history, both its gifts and misuses.”—Bonnie Glass-Coffin, Professor of Anthropology, Utah State University, author of The Gift of Life: Female Spirituality and Healing in Northern Peru

About the Author: k.m. huber grew up in the Pacific Northwest climbing trees, wandering in the mountains, wondering about the world, and writing poems. Unforeseen winds carried her to a new life in New York City, chance introduced her to her future husband, and before long another wind blew them together to the stark desert coast of his homeland, Peru. There, she fell under the enchantment of mystical inland Andean peaks, magical valleys, timeless tales and colorful traditions. 

While living in Lima, she dove into research about the Nasca, interviewed experts, walked its landscapes, climbed sacred hills, met some thousand-year-old guarango trees, and collaborated on a documentary about deforestation.

Huber’s writing can be found in Vice-Versa, Earth Island Journal, Post Road, Rougarou, The McGuffin, and Latin America Press, among others. Her fiction includes Patya y los Misterios de Nasca (La Nave, Peru 2023). She currently resides in Maryville, Tennessee with her husband and dog, still zooms with her Lima writer’s group, and enjoys being close to mountains again.

Thank you, k.m., for your post about your inspiration!