Thirteen-year-old Jarett Ross has been no more than a ghost for months, crying alone in the darkness where no one can hear him. A drug-dealer put the moves on his mom, got her addicted to heroin, and now rules their small apartment in a rotting Victorian house. Jarett's only refuge from the man's brutality has been his tiny room, its door locked by a skeleton key. Then, late one rainy night, even that protection fails him. After a nightmare of cause-and-effect, Jarett is battered, near death, and running from the police. He finds himself at the iron gates of an ancient graveyard where he waits to die, to be delivered from this world without hope. That's when Robbie, a homeless boy who lives in a crypt, arrives. Hounded by the police that have never helped him, but driven by his desire to save his mother, Jarett is exhausted by life. Robbie encourages him to try to build a future from the bones of his past. But wouldn't it be easier to just stay in this peaceful place of the dead forever?
"After almost forty years of working with kids and raising four of my own, along with a few strays -- none of whom are in prison or collecting Welfare -- not to mention over twenty years of writing books and stories for and about kids, I've found that it's a lot easier for people to be "pro-child" about some kids than it is for them to care about and champion "other" kids. Perhaps, like the animals in George Orwell's Animal Farm, some kids are more equal than others?
"Almost all my stories and books are for and about black kids, who are not always cute and cuddly. My characters often spit, sweat and swear, as well as occasionally smoke or drink. Just like their real-world counterparts, some are "overweight," may look "too black," or are otherwise unacceptable by superficial American values. Like on the real kids, they often live in dirty and violent environments, and are forced into sometimes unpleasant lifestyles.
"And virtually no one writes books or stories about them -- at least seldom in ways that don't exploit them, and/or don't glorify gangs, guns, drugs and violence. I've learned from experience that few publishers, including black ones, will publish positive books about these kids... books that don't portray them in stereotypical roles, and thus only reinforce the negative aspects of their lives.
"The result is that there very few positive books about these kids. This leaves them with no role models except stereotypes of gangsters, rappers or sports figures. Worse, virtually the only books that "white" (or more fortunate) children have to read about most black kids are also filled with these negative stereotypes. About the only exception are books in which black kids play a supporting role to a white hero.
"I have devoted my career, such as it is, to writing positive but realistic books and stories, not only for and about black kids, but also for "white" kids so they will understand that the negative stereotypes aren't true... that most black kids have other interests besides guns, gangs, drugs, violence, becoming rap stars, or playing basketball.
"When I first began writing I wanted to write many different kinds of books; adventure novels, magic, ghost stories. These were the kinds of books I grew up reading, though I often wondered why there were no black heroes, such as ship captains or airplane pilots... no black Indiana Joneses, Hardy Boys or Hobbits. But mainstream publishers only want the stereotypes: if not blatantly negative stereotypes, then only stereotypical positive images. Only what "good black kids" are "supposed" to do. What the mainstream white world expects them to dream about and aspire to be.
"I often write about violence because the U.S.A. is a violent country in a violent world and pretending it isn't doesn't help anyone. Most of my kids aren't angels, but they are being as good as they can be... which is a lot better than most people seem to think they are.
"To me, being pro-child includes all children, even kids whom it may be hard to like... especially kids who are hard to like."