Strange but True: Tales from Author Silvia Acevedo

Author Silvia Acevedo takes us for a spin with her intriguing strange but true author tale.

In this episode of Strange but True: Tales from Authors, I am pleased to welcome my long-time critique partner and award-winning author Silvia Acevedo who shares how her obsession with a childhood toy has made its way into her storytelling!

A Childhood Toy as a Talisman for my Writing

A strange sort of bewitchment takes place in writers’ minds as our word count rises. Long forgotten memories bubble to the surface from the recesses of, well, who knows where? We’re suddenly aware of life-long patterns and recurring themes. This is especially true, I believe, of writers for children’s books.

I write stories for kids and teens. If I hope to ring true to children, I have to transport myself mentally back to my childhood. I travel in time. I “go there,” whether the moments are lovely or painful, to write authentically from a child’s perspective. I don’t want to sound like a lecturing adult.

Recalling my youth means experiencing all sorts of surprising recollections rising from the depths. They call out to me and eventually kick in the door. Most of these memories make it onto the page. Whether they’re allowed to stay on the page depends on how they advance the story, if at all, or whether they provide insight into a character’s psyche.

My latest work, MAIL-ORDER MONSTERS: CRASH COURSE, triggered more memories of childhood and more youthful sentiments than any of my other works so far. In MAIL-ORDER MONSTERS, a 10-year-old boy is so desperate for a new best friend that he orders monsters from an ad at the back of an old comic book. The monsters arrive, create chaos, and definitely change his life.

Surprise! I am not a 10-year-old boy. Nor did I ever find myself in need of ordering friends through the mail. Nonetheless, I could BE Marco, my main character. I could go back to my own childhood to experience the loneliness that comes after a friendship breakup. Some may ask, “Can’t adults feel that too?” Of course they can, but we all know the emotional sting isn’t the same. When we’re kids, problems seem to have higher stakes. As kids, we may enjoy more confidence that solutions are simple and within grasp, but the emotional roller coaster of our youth sees higher rises and dips, twistier twists, and more raging thrills and devastation, all stemming from our inexperience.

One memory that percolated and bubbled to the surface was of an excellent grade school teacher. She was tall and block-shaped. She often took watch duties during recess. At our school, that meant standing at a tall, second-floor window beside a chimney stack. In that window, she could reign over the playground with a bird’s eye view. I liked this teacher, but when she stood at the window, I feared her. Why did this memory pop up? I can’t say, but it was therapeutic to write. I eventually cut her from the story for pacing, but she will appear elsewhere, I’m sure.

Which brings me to my Strange but True moment. In developing the character Maite, a budding soccer phenom who is also Marco’s first crush, I found myself wanting to give her something contrasting with the fast pace of sports. She needed a contemplative moment. Without fully realizing what I was doing, I had her pull a spinning top from her jeans pocket and spinning it on the lunch table. It stopped all conversation. I described the top, its spin, its wobble, its fall. I allowed Maite and others to focus on it throughout, appreciating something lovely.

The easy, almost throw-away line of a spinning top could easily be cut for pacing. In fact, I did did shorten it and gave the top to her little sister. Maite had a different quiet moment later on. But the “spinning top scene” was a darling I couldn’t shake. I’ve become obsessed with spinning tops. And I realized, strange but true, I’ve always been obsessed with them. I’d merely stifled the obsession and forgotten the joy through the practical needs and focus of adulthood.

I was gifted a gyroscope at, oh, probably, I’m guessing, age six? At the time, I didn’t understand its scientific significance. Wikipedia calls a gyroscope “a device used for measuring or maintaining orientation and angular velocity. … When rotating, the orientation of this axis is unaffected by tilting or rotation of the mounting, due to the conservation of angular momentum." To a kid, a gyroscope is simply a spinning top that won’t lose its stand-up-ability when you move the base.

Even earlier, I got a blue plastic spinning top that you can activate by blowing on it. I don’t remember ever not having it, and I don’t remember who gave it to me. But I know I’ll never part with it.

Strange but true, as a present to myself after finishing my manuscript, I bought the lovely red and black spinning top you see on this page that has become the talisman to my writing. I now regularly set it to spin on my desk to set my focus onto my manuscript, whatever I might be writing at the time. I look over occasionally and smile. I listen to the hum of the point against my desk’s surface. I automatically set it to spin again when I hear the topple, scrape, and silence of the end of its journey. I kind of wonder how I ever faced the page without it.

Did you know spinning tops have been enjoyed since antiquity? Did you know they’ve been used for divination, for meditation, for contemplation? For enjoyment of the random nature of the spin. For beauty. For science. Across the arts. There are hundreds of style, made of all types of materials, set to spin in myriad ways.

There’s a metaphor here somewhere, that the spinning top is the creativity within. It’s lovely, fragile on its course, ephemeral in its journey. It falters and stops but can always restart with a helpful push. Or perhaps we writers simply ascribe profound sentiments on objects that capture our fancy and help us through the tough business of writing.

But I don’t really think so when it comes to tops. I’ve always loved them. I’m happy to be back in their company. And I’m on my way to becoming a creator who’s associated with an object. Tom Hanks had his typewriters. Hemingway protected his cats. I’m ready to begin my small but varied collection of interesting spinning tops, thanks to some make-believe time with mail-order monsters.

Biography

Silvia Acevedo is a children’s book author and co-founder of Fantasy Art Workshop’s Illustration Intensive, a week-long illustration workshop. Her newest book, MAIL-ORDER MONSTERS will release on August 26, 2025. She is honored to represent Wisconsin in the the spooky anthology THE HAUNTED STATES OF AMERICA, (Godwin Books/MacMillan 2024). Her previous novel, GOD AWFUL REBEL, won the Spark Award for excellence from the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators.

Silvia’s worked in New York City in traditional publishing at Scholastic, Writers House literary agency, and Inkluded, a non-profit championing diversity within publishing. She simultaneously led the Wisconsin chapter of SCBWI and sat on the Board of Directors for the Wisconsin Writing Association.

Previously, Silvia enjoyed 25+ years in news reporting, covering everything from presidential candidates to state-fair-food-on-a-stick. She reported national and international stories for CNN, local TV, radio, and newspapers, in English and Spanish. Some of her favorite times were guest hosting a television morning talk show for Milwaukee’s NBC station.

Visit Silvia at www.silviaacevedo.com.

Follow her writing adventures on these platforms:

YouTube * Facebook * LinkedIn

Goodreads * Amazon