Poets & Writers Magazine welcomes feedback from its readers. Please post a comment on select articles at pw.org, e-mail editor@pw.org, or write to Editor, Poets & Writers Magazine, 90 Broad Street, Suite 2100, New York, NY 10004. Letters accepted for publication may be edited for clarity and length.
Letters
Feedback from readers
After reading Jonathan Vatner’s “Healing From Helene” (March/April 2025), I reflected on the striking parallels between that story and the recent tragedy in my hometown. On January 7, 2025, a fire ignited in Eaton Canyon in Altadena, California. Within twenty-four hours, fueled by hundred-mile-per-hour winds, the small blaze surged west and south, scattering embers that set the town ablaze. Watching helplessly from my home in the Bronx, New York, I was devastated as my beloved hometown was reduced to ashes. I know the pain of fire all too well. Twenty years ago I lost my sister, Shennea, in a fire in Los Angeles. Now I grieve alongside my community as friends, classmates, and neighbors face unimaginable loss—some losing their homes, others their loved ones. The Eaton Canyon wildfire didn’t just consume landscapes; it incinerated memories, homes, and the dreams of a town close to my heart, including my first two childhood homes near Loma Alta Park. Though I have lived in New York for the past decade, my heart and soul remain in the foothills of the San Gabriel Valley. In late January, driven by grief and a deep sense of duty, I returned to Altadena to comfort friends and family. While visiting a place I no longer recognized, despite feeling lost and confused, I gathered community members to contribute essays to “Our Beloved Altadena,” an anthology dedicated to capturing our shared loss and resilience. This collection is a tribute to the African Americans who migrated from the South and settled in Altadena in the 1950s and 1960s, overcoming the barriers of redlining. It will serve as a historical record, honoring the fire victims and the strength of our community—one that many consider a paradise. Over a dozen community members and two politicians have agreed to contribute essays. As someone who has spent thirty years navigating unimaginable pain and loss, I have learned that writing and storytelling are powerful tools for healing. Through writing I hope to help my community process our grief, preserve our history, and find strength in sharing our stories, transforming devastation into a legacy of resilience and joy.
Nahshon Dion
Altadena, California
The interview by Emily Pérez, “Stewart Battles Book Bans at PRH” (March/April 2025), is so compelling. As senior manager of public policy at Penguin Random House, Rosie Stewart is the very person we have needed for the difficult task of fighting book bans, and it sounds like she is doing everything possible to combat this problem. As we all know, some of the best works of literature are banned books. I read the beautiful picture book And Tango Makes Three by Justin Richardson and Peter Parnell to my grandchildren. It’s about two male penguins sitting on an abandoned egg until it hatches, based on a true story that happened at New York City’s Central Park Zoo. To learn that it’s a banned book is appalling. We want our children and grandchildren to grow up in a society where they can have access to every kind of literature. And I believe that Stewart is our person to make a big impact on this issue.
Teresa Grabstein
Mercer Island, Washington
Reading Aaron Gilbreath’s “Writers With Day Jobs: Earning a Living Outside of Literature” (March/April 2025) reminded me of the statistical probability that most of us, no matter how good, will not be John Grisham or Danielle Steel and that we’ll have to find another way to keep the wolf from the door. In my case, it was teaching English as a Second Language in the adult division of the Los Angeles Unified School District, which I did for twenty-eight years. It was part-time, but coupled with a bit of freelancing, it gave me the money I needed to pay my bills, put a little away, plus there were benefits and retirement. To my astonishment (I’m not comfortable being onstage) I enjoyed the work and especially the immigrant students, whose aspirations I greatly admired. And I had mornings, early afternoons, and weekends free for writing. Teaching used a different part of my brain than writing, so it didn’t drain my battery. I also made several friends among my colleagues. The trick is to find a part-time gig that doesn’t interfere with your writing and keeps you afloat. But it can be done.
Jon Krampner
Los Angeles, California