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LA poet Vicky Vertiz shares her journey from Bell Gardens to literary acclaim, exploring how her queer Latinx identity has shaped award-winning poetry collections that center working-class immigrant experiences without translation or apology.
Step into the vibrant world of queer Latine poetry with acclaimed Los Angeles writer Vicky Vertiz as she shares her remarkable journey from the working-class neighborhoods of Bell Gardens to literary recognition. Growing up along the LA River to Mexican immigrant parents, Vertiz crafts award-winning poetry that refuses to translate or apologize for its bilingual, bicultural essence.
"There is no place you can go in Los Angeles without us," Vertiz asserts, speaking of immigrant communities that form the backbone of her writing. Her first collection, "Palm Frond with its Throat Cut," won the 2018 Pan America Award by centering working-class queer experiences in unapologetic Spanglish. Her newest work, "Auto Body," which earned the 2023 Sandeen Poetry Prize, explores repair across feelings, time, harm, and literal cars—a powerful metaphor for resilience in challenging times.
What makes Vertiz's story particularly compelling is her unconventional path to becoming a writer. Libraries were her sanctuary from childhood, but she never imagined herself an artist until witnessing other writers from her neighborhood succeed. "I had to see other people exactly like me from my neighborhood be artists in order for me to know that I could do it too," she reveals, after decades working in organizing, education, and public policy.
As both poet and educator at UC Santa Barbara, Vertiz approaches teaching with radical honesty about the political pressures affecting marginalized communities. She creates space for students to express fears while connecting them with resources and alternative perspectives. Her current memoir project serves as "time travel to repair the gaps I didn't have" growing up queer in Los Angeles.
For aspiring writers, Vertiz offers golden advice: read widely, especially works from outside the United States; document your stories without worrying initially about genre; and most importantly—share your work. "Writing only thrives and is nourished when you talk about it with your fellow writers," she emphasizes, highlighting how community sustains creativity.
• Born and raised in Bell Gardens to Mexican immigrant parents, Vertiz's second book "Auto Body" won the 2023 Sandeen Poetry Prize
• First poetry collection "Palm Frond with its Throat Cut" won the 2018 Pan America Award, described as a love letter to Los Angeles
• Found her path to writing through libraries and reading, seeing other writers from her neighborhood succeed
• Poetry centers working-class, queer life using both Spanish and English without translating
• Uses writing and teaching to counter white supremacy, homophobia, and transphobia
• Emphasizes the importance of reading widely, documenting your stories, and building community
• Currently working on a memoir in poetry about being queer and coming of age in Los Angeles
• Writing communities like Macondo, Canto Mundo, and her San Gabriel Valley Food Club sustain her creative practice
You can find Vicky Vertiz at vickyvertiz.com or on Instagram @vickyvertiz.
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Welcome to the RADIO QGLLU podcast, the show that TAKES A DEEP DIVE INTO WHAT THE QUEER, GAY, AND LESBIAN LATINE COMMUNITY IS TALKING ABOUT. Radio GLLU began in 1986, and now in its continued iteration, features dynamic stories from California and beyond.
We're going to go into thissegment of Radio Q Glue.
Welcome to the Radio Q Gluepodcast, the show that takes a
(00:34):
deep dive in what the queer, gayand lesbian Latin community is
talking about.
In today's episode, we'retalking with Los Angeles poet,
writer, educator and advocate,vicky Vertiz.
I'm Rita Gonzalez.
I'm Lidia Otero.
Mario J. Novoa (00:44):
And I'm Mario J
Novoa.
Today's guest, , was born andraised in Bell Gardens to
Mexican immigrant parents.
Her writing has been featuredin the New York Times Magazine,
the Los Angeles Review of Books,among other publications.
Her second book, auto Body, wonthe 2023 Sandeen Poetry Prize
(01:08):
from the University of NotreDame.
Her first book is a love letterto Los Angeles Palm Frond with
its throat cut and won a 2018Pan America Award in Poetry.
She's a recipient of manyfellowships, such as the Mellon
Foundation Bread Loaf, and alsoteaches writing and lives in Los
(01:30):
Angeles.
Hi, vicki, this is Lydia.
Thanks for joining us here inRadio QGLLU.
We met two years ago at theJoteria conference in Los
Angeles and I've gone to one ofyour readings and I have your
book here, auto Body, and I'm soexcited that you're here with
(01:52):
us and tell us about yourcreative energies and your life
as a poet.
When you talk about your book,palm Frond with its Throat Cut,
you say it's a love letter toLos Angeles, so tell us more
about your relationship to thiscity.
Vickie Vértiz (02:08):
Well, good
morning everyone.
I'm so happy to be here.
I just wanted to say, beforetalking about my love letter to
LA and Palmfront, is that so.
I grew up in Bell Gardens, myfamily still lives there and I'm
very connected to the LA Riverand the 710, having grown up
along both of them.
(02:29):
Um, like, witnessing your livesas queer people in Los Angeles
like gave me a root of queerhistory in Los Angeles that I
(02:53):
did not have and that I reallyneeded, like I really needed
that when I was growing up hereand, um, I'm just really
grateful for that.
So I just want to say that I Ivalue and appreciate and your
work and everything that you dofor keeping us connected as
queer folks and Latinx folks inLA.
(03:15):
So thank you.
And so Palm Farm with Throat Cutwas my first book, my first
collection of poetry, and in itthere is a centering and valuing
of a working class, queer lifein Los Angeles that uses
pochonawar, that is both Spanishand English and queer and
(03:39):
working class all at once, andit doesn't translate words for
people, because it's centeringthe experience of those of us
who might know what these wordsmean, where these places are and
how, from my perspective, atleast being from Southeast Los
Angeles, and this kind of havinga greater understanding of a
(04:01):
Los Angeles that is filled withimmigrants.
Everywhere we go, everywhereyou go in Los Angeles, there are
immigrants.
There is no place you can gowithout us.
So, knowing that the bookcenters who we are, and so one
of the poems that I believe umreally highlights this and, like
embodies, it is called this ismy Home, which is actually the
(04:24):
title of a Quetzal song, so theband Quetzal, you know, marta
González and Quetzal Flores, andit is shaped like water flowing
through the LA river and, asyou know, sometimes there's not
a lot of water there, so it'sgot a funny kind of meandering
shape.
And you know, my writing is bothlike narrative but also
(04:46):
experimental, and so I findmyself throughout palm fronding,
conversation with artwork, likeother other queer people of
color's artwork, in particularDanny Hauray, who's has a piece
of visual art called Palm Front,with its throat cut, and so I'm
(05:07):
in conversation with multiplegenerations, with multiple
languages, with multiple ways ofbeing, but centering like a
working class perspective andlanguage and point of view.
Yeah, so that's Palm Front.
That was my first book and itwon a Penn America prize, which
is really special.
Mario J. Novoa (05:33):
Well,
congratulations on all your
accolades.
Uh, this is mario.
Vickie Vértiz (05:35):
Um, I wanted to
know if you always knew that you
wanted to be a writer growingup.
No, but I was a reader and so Ihave the great fortune of
teaching at UC Santa Barbara asa unionized lecturer.
So I'm a union union gal, unionfemme from, like my family.
My dad was a union man from theglass workers, so I teach there
(05:58):
now and I went to the SantaBarbara library to pick up some
books and I waltzed out of therefull of joy with a stack of
books that is me since I wasfive.
So, like the library is myspecial place, it is a place of
wonder and discovery and alsorebellion.
Right, there are things therethat we can find to see
(06:19):
ourselves and to see ourselvesout of situations we don't want
to be in as a country or as aperson or as a gardener, like.
Whatever your speed is, thelibrary's got something for you.
So, like other young people, youknow you write a lot in school
and you know I've kept a journalsince I was really young
(06:40):
because we had to, but then keptit up in order to, like,
document my life, and I'vealways been really interested in
guides.
So as a child I would read theyearbooks of my middle schools
to see what kids were up to andwhat I could do, like what was
(07:01):
possible for me.
So I've always been interestedin finding paths and maps in the
things that I read, and so, asa writer now, that's what I'm
hoping to leave in my writingand in my books, right Like
here's the path I walked, here'sthings I wish I knew.
Here are things that break myheart.
(07:22):
Do they break yours too?
In that sense, being a readerhelped me become a writer and my
path to that was paved withhaving to have a career that
could support me and my familyif I needed it to, right.
So being an artist was notsomething I ever thought I could
do, and not until I'd had afull life in organizing and
(07:46):
education and public policy didI say, okay, now I can be.
I think I can be an artist now,and it took quite a few years
to be able to, to see myself tolay the groundwork and an entire
generation of Chicana andChicanx writers to look to, to
say this is my legacy, this ismy canon, and Black writers like
(08:07):
Black radical artists, theBlack arts movement, right.
So it just took me most of myadult life to give myself
permission and to find the wayinto becoming an artist too,
because I didn't know what thatwas.
I didn't have a path for that.
I had to meet writers who lookedlike me, aida Salazar, in
particular, from Maywood.
She's an incredible artist YAwriter, middle grade writer,
(08:31):
highly decorated, and thatgirl's from you know Atlantic
and Slauson.
So I had to see other peopleexactly like me from my
neighborhood be artists in orderfor me to know that I could do
it too.
So reading is so important,right?
It just it takes us to newplaces, and if it wasn't for
libraries, yeah, I wouldn't behere.
Rita Gonzlez (08:50):
Would you be
willing to read something you
wrote with us?
Vickie Vértiz (08:54):
So I want to
read this is my home, from Palm
Front with its still cut, and Ialso have a poem from Auto Body
and if you'd like, I could readone from each.
They're pretty short.
Um, yeah, this is my home.
I don't want to start offbroken, but my pencil is running
out.
That's okay.
(09:15):
We have more lead in the yard.
My home is I can't breatheSurrounded by sound walls.
You can't hear In that quiet achild finishes their homework
closing a good thing.
The LA River ends in Vernon.
After Slauson the friends ofthe river run out too.
(09:36):
The death stench in our water,in our jobs, in the classroom,
everywhere a gas leak.
This is my home.
My mother and brother are10,000 truck miles.
Why won't their coughs go away?
The freeway, my lover says.
Coffins with windows, pig fatrendered into lipsticks.
(09:57):
We're bottling the leftovers.
Crates of rotten chitlins willdetonate over San Marino lawns.
When I took Amma to the gardenin that city, she looked out the
windshield at their grass andsaid they don't have earthquakes
here, do they, chata?
They do, I said.
They just don't have to feelthem.
This is our home.
(10:18):
Arsenic fairy dust on weddingcookies.
A student plucks a lead bloomand sharpens in the lungs,
cancer berries cluster, and it'sno use this poem.
Someone said I lost my parentsto the pollution and no one's
come to clean my yard.
You can have our methane clouds, windshield tackles, the river
(10:40):
is a stream and the freeway isalways running.
We are death flower orchard 21square miles, opening and
closing Our miscarriages, bubbleand thin into glue.
I've never felt worthless.
We plant broken glass in theriverbed.
We dream about dabbing leadperfume behind your clean pink
(11:01):
ears, jumping our skateboardsoff the cement and into your
bright white teeth.
My home is invisible.
Wild lupine, though it blooms apurple with tumor pistils.
This is our bogambilia triplex.
This is our date palm.
This is our jacaranda.
This is my home.
We stole the whole thing up.
(11:21):
That sushi you're eating.
It's cueritos from the FarmerJohn's.
Who are the fools?
Not this nopal light.
The student is boiling ourwater to get rid of your poison.
The start, the finish, the PEmile you had to run.
It's here A river's reverie,the you and me.
Rita Gonzlez (11:44):
Then water.
Thank you so much for that.
It just I was just sitting herewith you, I was just so
immersed with the LA River and alot of us have experiences with
the LA River and it's our ownand I was going through mine
right now, so thank you for that.
I have another question.
As Latin queers, we are facingnew and different challenges in
(12:08):
this political time right now.
How are writers in the LosAngeles area responding to these
political times?
That's a tough one one.
Vickie Vértiz (12:18):
Yeah, well,
there's.
There's just so many, right?
So, um, so, writers in LosAngeles are composed of so many
different communities and theones that I'm connected to
primarily writers of color.
That doesn't mean that we'renot connected to Anglo writers
or European writers, or so thethe writers I'm connected to are
are mostly people of color andalso queer, and those of us in
(12:41):
the community I'm connected tohave always been working to
support different kinds ofstruggles and movements and to
protect various parts of ourcommunities, right, whether we
are immigrants, whether we arequeer, whether we are both, and
so the different kinds of thingsI've seen are things like
fundraising right on one end.
On the other, is writing andcentering our writing about and
(13:05):
centering our communities in away that resists and pushes back
against white supremacy,transphobia and homophobia.
Right, every time we have a newcrisis, and in particular right
now with what's going on withimmigration, right, and in
particular, right now withwhat's going on with immigration
right.
So I've seen lots of differentwriters like going out to
protest, like I myself was out,screen printing shirts written
in K'iche' Right.
(13:26):
So our Los Angeles is now moreindigenous and in the Latina
community, and so I feel likethere's a new energy, focus and
support that's helping that partof our community that, growing
(13:48):
up, we did not either see orhave as present in our minds.
And Los Angeles is much moreindigenous Mexican than it was
when I was growing up, which isnot to say that they were not
here.
This is Indian land, right, so,but in terms of like, like a
political presence.
(14:21):
So what are writers doing?
Fundraising, right.
All of my books.
The proceeds go partially to ElOtro Lado, middle East alliance
, um, the black migrant justiceproject.
So I I think those of us whoare implicated in what's going
on, right.
Those of us whose civil rightsare being threatened or taken
away, who are witnessing ourcommunities being kidnapped,
right.
I think that we're interveningin as many ways as possible, and
so at least the part of thecommunity that I'm from, I think
(14:43):
we've always been involved insome way or cared, and so are
trying to think of differentways to intervene, interrupt and
protect our families,communities and neighbors.
Right.
But I also have to rememberthat the lane that I'm in is
that I'm also a parent, and soI'm parenting my child in the
apocalypse.
So that's a big job.
I have a couple of writingprojects that I'm working on and
(15:05):
so and one of them is a, amemoir in poetry that is about
being queer and coming of age inLos Angeles and you know your
community the Q glue and theglue from the 80s was something
I really needed back then, andso what I'm trying to do, in a
(15:28):
way, is time travel to repairthe gaps I didn't have.
And so, as an artist, like what?
And as a teacher, what repaircan I do in real time for my
students to connect them to theresources and information that
they need now to see the pathsthat they can take to support
themselves, but also to protectthemselves and their communities
(15:48):
from being harmed.
Right, so I include a lot ofresources, like okay, so here
are our red cards, here is youknow how we act, um, should
there be a raid?
Like here's the number to theschool's uh, lawyer, immigration
lawyer.
So I'm like really conscious ofand resourced with my students
(16:10):
about what they might need, whatthey have questions about.
So those are the different waysthat I integrate.
How we can defend and protectourselves and then how we center
ourselves in my writing is theway that I kind of counter white
supremacy and homophobia andtransphobia on that end.
So I'm kind of working at itfrom different angles.
Lydia Otero (16:31):
Great, this is
Lydia and you're my reader in
sorts because my question seguesabout into your role as a
teacher.
But I really dig the idea ofbrown and queer time travel.
So I'm no longer an educator,but since you're there now
(16:51):
working with young people, andwhat you talked about in terms
of the increased ICE presence,the increased military presence
in Southern California, are youseeing, are they expressing
these kinds of feelings, maybefears, in the writing?
Is it evident in their writing?
Vickie Vértiz (17:11):
So I get to
teach a few demographics of
students In creative writinggenerally there are not as many
people of color as there are inclasses such as writing for
Chicanx Studies, which is alsosomething I teach.
But in all of my classes Ibegin with acknowledging who I
(17:33):
am, where I come from and whatmy approach is, so I bring
myself and my body and mycommunity into the room.
I do that so that we'recreating a space where the
dominant narratives are nolonger dominant with us.
I am your teacher as a queer,like someone who grew up working
(17:53):
class she kind of from LosAngeles was like made it her
life's work to be a specialistin her family, to study herself
and her family and her communityas the way that we're going to
practice writing.
So seeing ourselves on the page, our communities and what
motivates us to be here and towrite about ourselves and each
other.
So we start with that and then,of course, like from that, I
(18:17):
assess how they're doing,because I acknowledge and have
been acknowledging since Istarted teaching there, we're
continuing to live under duress.
We're continuing to teach andhave to learn, having to learn
and be college students when ourfamilies are being deported,
when we fear that the Departmentof Education will shut down.
The Department of Educationwill shut down.
(18:40):
We won't have scholarshipsanymore when we can't afford to
live anywhere like.
We are under such intensepressures about the
possibilities of any future thatI, as an educator, feel like
it's just the basics toacknowledge what we're living
under.
And then, having laid thatfoundation, I asked them if
they're interested in gettingresources or information about
(19:01):
the things that are going on inthe world, because they don't
necessarily know about democracynow.
They don't necessarily knowabout so many other alternative
(19:23):
medias and places to go forinformation and much less the
non-profit organizations thatwould help them figure out how
to address or solve the issuesthat they or their families are
facing.
This is where my public policyand organizing background is so
handy as a professor right,basically, like any interest my
(19:44):
students have, from health tothe arts, I can point them in
the right direction towards anorganization, an artist, an
individual that is addressingthe issues that they're
concerned with.
So they write research papersin my Writing for Chicanx
Studies class.
They're concerned with right,so they write research papers in
my writing for chicanx studiesclass.
And I again like communitiesfor environmental justice sorry,
communities for betterenvironment.
In southeast la east yard, Ipointed my students to them
(20:08):
because they're writing aboutenvironmental justice in los
angeles and I said oh, I knowwho to point you to, right?
So students are curious,they're scared, and we as
educators need to make thespaces for them to express those
.
And then in the writing, Ipoint them towards what they
love, towards celebrating thethings and people that they love
(20:30):
, the places they love, and inother spaces I make room for
their grief and for my own.
I regularly cry in class becausethere's so many things to cry
about.
Right, feeling is something Ialso teach as an important,
rigorous academic tool.
Your feelings are important.
They tell you importantinformation.
(20:50):
We must listen to them, right.
So it's really beautiful toactually bring in everything
I've learned from home, right,and so that's called now like
organic intellectualism, right,so home knowledge.
But I also use that to remindstudents that they come to the
(21:11):
university with great knowledge,with a lineage and legacy of
beautiful knowledge that theylearned from home, from remedios
, from their families, fromtheir social interactions that
we, that academia does not valueand does not frequently
recognize.
And so there's a lot of workthat we do in my classes around
writing, but also around seeingourselves as scholars,
(21:35):
intellectuals and archivistsists, and our families too.
So we're building a foundationto see ourselves differently and
to and to welcome all differentkinds of feelings and resources
in order to continue being whowe are instead of pretending
those feelings aren't there.
Mario J. Novoa (21:55):
Vicki, this is
Mario.
Again, thank you for sharingsome of your knowledge and
bringing your educator self tothe conversation.
I'm sure that our listeners aregetting a lot about what you
shared in terms of feelings andmental health and ways to combat
(22:15):
this situation that we'recurrently in for all different
kinds of people.
I'm wondering if we can tapback into your writer's side
again, maybe if you can readanother passage from your book.
Vickie Vértiz (22:28):
Well, I would
love to yeah.
So Auto Body is my latestcollection collection and on the
cover is a 65 Ford Mustangfastback and it's this is an
homage to my family's incrediblerepair skills and repair across
(22:52):
feeling, time, harm and literalphysical cars.
So I have two short poems Iwant to read from that 69 Chevy
Impala.
What I learned from my father'shonking is that women on the
street are just like everyone'smom leggings and long t-shirts.
They shoot him dirty looks.
(23:14):
I tell him to stop.
They shoot him dirty looks.
I tell him to stop.
Slink into the back seat, covermy face with my hands.
We're all in the car with him.
Chuy.
My brother repeats what I saidin a whiny voice.
Our baby brother is asleep.
Watch the road, pinche viejoAma says she sucks her teeth.
(23:34):
She sucks her teeth, sighs.
Dad laughs, twists his mustache.
He's waiting for the greenlight.
There's nowhere to go.
I want to run out of the car toChris's Burgers with my friends
or to the Toys R Us on Eastern.
Dad always says the same thingto me Ponte, trucha, mija.
(23:56):
Look out.
He bobs and weaves, punches theair.
He tugs his bottom eyelid.
Watch everything.
My dad can make you laugh evenwhen you're mad.
He's a real hit.
He can get a job, a drink, alook, anytime.
You can drop him anywhere inthe world and in two days he'd
(24:17):
have a job and a woman to chase.
But he's a crooked accountant.
His math's messed up, hidesdebt in too much information.
Be careful, he says there's alot of locos out there.
He points out to the world withhis chin, to the world with his
(24:43):
chin.
Okay, up by, say whatever.
But I am a great student.
He teaches me to look out, togive men nasty looks, but also
that fools can honk at anythingin a skirt and get to drive away
.
That sounds good to me.
Do whatever you want, gowherever you want, and no one
tells you shit.
Mario J. Novoa (25:00):
Thank you.
Thank you for sharing that withus.
You've been a powerful part ofa writing community.
Bona Macondo, canto Mundo.
What does community play inyour creative process,
especially when writing can besometimes isolating?
Vickie Vértiz (25:22):
As writers, you
cannot hone your craft without
other people, withoutconversation, without knowing
who your audience is orpicturing them in your mind and
so sharing as an implicit partof writing.
I'm a really social person andso I learn better in groups and
(25:47):
have been really lucky to haveseen the path of writing via
community and different groupsof writers.
So workshops are one way tomake new friends, learn about
craft, build community and buildyour networks.
And so I came to writing assomeone in her 30s who had
(26:10):
already had several careers andmuch experience in the world.
So I applied everything I hadknown and learned from those
jobs and experiences to writing.
So I already knew that yourconnections, your friendships,
all of that influences andnurtures and nourishes who you
(26:30):
are.
Yesterday I was reminded thatwriting only thrives and is
nourished when you talk about itwith your fellow writers, and I
was having lunch with a fellowwriter and talking to her about
this YA novel and realized thatas I was describing what this
book is about, that you know theending should be.
You know this really beautifulscene that I described about
(26:54):
going into this queer women ofcolor space in San Francisco in
the early 2000s and I wouldn'thave been able to see that had I
not had that conversation.
So your relationships, yourconnections, sharing are
integral parts of writing, andI'm reminded of that every time
I get stuck or every time I missmy writing community.
(27:17):
And I've begun to miss thembecause, as a parent of an
infant, I've had to give up alot of what my former life as a
writer looked like.
I was frequently traveling,frequently sharing my work in
many places all over the world,all over the country, and with a
toddler it's just not possiblein the same way, and so I've had
(27:40):
to really figure out how torecreate what a writing life
looks like for myself at thisstage in my life.
But I know and greatly value myconnections to other writers,
and so I'm part of a group ofwriters called the San Gabriel
Valley Food Club, and we gettogether, we eat and we talk
about writing too, right.
But so I value that greatly, Inurture it as much as I can.
(28:04):
You really can't be a writerwithout it.
Yeah, you need your community,you need your people.
Lydia Otero (28:10):
Thank you, vicky.
That writing group sounds cool.
So to end the show, I know thatthere's some people listening
to the show today, some maybeyoung folks but they don't have
to be young but queer brownfolks trying to write, trying to
create.
(28:30):
So share with us something, andin the form of advice,
something that you wish somebodyhad shared with you or told you
when you started out as a poetand a writer.
Vickie Vértiz (28:42):
I feel like
there's there's a few things I
think.
The first one is to read aswidely as you can and really use
that library card to the fullextent.
Use those books that you readas places to start and then find
out who the teachers of thosewriters were, who are their
contemporaries.
Read books written outside ofthis country.
(29:05):
There are incredible legaciesof literature and poetry from
all over the world that ourcountry doesn't acknowledge,
recognize, know of, but theworld itself does.
And so really go read as widelyas possible, right?
So that's the first advice.
And the second part of thatadvice is that when you do that,
(29:28):
and you then should look up whothese writers are, where
they've gone, where they'vestudied, where they might be,
you look up their interviews too.
So we need to get to know thewriters and their craft, to have
a map for ourselves, to seewhich parts we connect with and
(29:49):
which parts we don't.
And just because people aregreat writers doesn't mean
they're great teachers.
That's my other piece of advice, right, like you might find
this fantastic writer who's gotall these awards, but they're
terrible teachers.
So you have to do a little bitof homework, you have to be a
detective and a writer and then,if you're thinking about
(30:10):
writing, put the stories downfirst.
That's what Shirdi Moraga toldme.
She's like don't worry aboutthe genre yet, write down the
stories first.
And so find places or ways towrite down your stories, right.
So there's classes, there'sworkshops, there are things
online that you can watch.
The amazing writer, arianaBrown, and Alan Pelaz Lopez have
(30:34):
a whole series on YouTube thatare prompts for writing.
These Black, latina and queerwriters and these incredible
YouTube videos.
So there are all theseresources that I, you know, a
lot of us didn't have when wewere just starting to write.
So find ways to get yourstories down and the last part
is just to share.
(30:54):
Find places to share, findthese classes, find open share.
Find these classes, find openmics, find library events.
To be a writer, you have to beproactive.
I feel like that might be theadvice for any career.
Like, you have to be curious,you have to be brave and you
have to be persistent and alittle bit of a detective, and
(31:16):
with writing, with more thanthan anything, sharing is so
important.
The sharing is how you connectwith others, how you see how
your audience reacts to whatyou're writing.
Maybe I know that I've readsome things in spaces where I
realized maybe that was toosarcastic and that wasn't
actually what I was trying to do.
So, like you have to reallytest out, if you do not read
(31:36):
things out loud, you don't knowhow they are going to land and
you actually don't know how theysound.
So that's a lot of advice.
I teach entire classes where Icontinue to give advice, right,
but those are the first ones,right?
I think, like putting thestories down, reading widely and
sharing that will really setyou on on a path.
And also, ultimately, what iswriting?
(31:59):
There are lots of differentwriting lives to have.
Not everybody's going to beStephen King and not everybody
should be, and we have so manydifferent writers in the world
to to look to, for differentpaths.
Gabrielle Seville is a um, thiswonderful, uh, black writer who
writes about Black time, blackspace, beauty, liberation,
(32:22):
possibility, and you know I onlyfound her through a class that
I taught.
So one link leads to anotherand you have to keep following
them in order to be able to seeyourself and to explode.
What you think is possible andwhat Gabrielle Seville explodes
for me is the idea of like.
Being a writer is is also beinga performer is also looking for
(32:45):
joy and community and can onlyfind those things through
performance and writing.
So writing offers like so manydifferent ways of being, and so
just encourage anyone who'sinterested to really just
experiment, be a detective andbe courageous, like just get it
down on the page and then findother people who did the same
(33:05):
thing.
Rita Gonzlez (33:07):
Thank you, that's
great advice.
Now, how may our listenerscontact you or find out about
you?
Vickie Vértiz (33:16):
Listeners can go
to my website, vickyvertizcom
for updates on events, for linksto my books.
I'm also sometimes on Instagramat vickyvertiz, but my website
is the best place to find outabout events and about where to
get my books.
But yeah, they're available atbookstores and libraries and
(33:38):
anywhere books are sold.
Lydia Otero (33:40):
Once again we've
been talking with Los Angeles
poet, writer, educator andadvocate, vicky Vertiz.
I'm Lidia Otero
Mario J. Novoa (33:48):
Mario J.
Novoa.
Rita Gonzlez (33:50):
And I'm Rita
Gonzalez.
Radio Q Glue is a segment ofthe Out Agenda and we want to
hear from you.
You can like us on our Facebookpage or email us at
theoutagenda at gmailcom or youcan visit our website on
Buzzsprout under Radio Q Glue orthe Glue Archives.
(34:13):
Thanks for listening and have awonderful week, and remember
that being out is the first stepto being equal.
Now stay tuned for this Way Out.