As a child I loved to write. Short stories, song lyrics, haikus. Writing brought me so much joy. It was a way to better understand myself, and the world around me, and to dream up a world of my own.

I never thought I would stop.

Five years ago, my family moved from London, UK, where I was born and raised, to reunite three generations of my family under one roof in Maine. When we flew across the ocean my notebooks were buried deep in boxes that would only arrive weeks later by ship.

A rush of new beginnings. New country. Schools. Friends. Life was exciting…but still unpenned.
Then March 2020, everything changed. The pandemic was here. A story we’d never experienced before.

My mother told us this historical moment would one day be a tale to tell. To pay attention.
I picked up my pen. Began journaling again. Grappling with the uncertainty of this unprecedented time.

Writing was a way to shape the page, in a world where so much was askew. And it also brought me comfort. A space to think about all the things in the world that were okay.

Even wonderful.

Remote schooling gifted me so many silver linings. All three generations sharing stories and laughing around the table daily at lunch, feasting off of my younger sister’s pandemic vegetable garden. Listening to my grandparents’ childhood stories of growing up in apartheid-era South Africa and Independence-era India. I learned so much more about my French/Belgian side of the family from my father, too.

Sorting through faded photographs with my Ma and Dada by the fire. Digitizing more than 2000 slides. Each picture a story. Their arrival in this country, starting a life, building a home here.

Each picture a journey.

And out of the house, much beauty to be found, too. Remote schooling allowed me to so often step into the magical Blueberries for Sal storybook setting of Maine. I explored and embraced the great outdoors. Snowshoeing through forest trails. October ocean dips. We replaced our calendar on the fridge with a tide chart. Spent hours outside with friends and family come rain, snow, shine, or mud.

Through all the changes in the weather.

All this time in nature—and journaling—deepened my love for the environment and interest in climate activism.

Fostered a desire to protect and nurture both our human stories and those of the natural world.
But how?

Then, in September 2021, I heard about the Young Emerging Authors fellowship at Portland, Maine youth literary nonprofit The Telling Room. During this rigorous year-long program four teen authors are selected to write and revise their own books. This process culminates in a book launch and publication through The Telling Room press.
I decided to apply.

When I first sat down I knew I had to write about the climate crisis—an issue becoming increasingly present in my daily life. The more I formed a relationship with Maine’s landscapes, the more I felt the urgency.

The challenging part was finding the voice to tell this story.

Originally I considered writing short stories told through the perspectives of endangered animal species.

But as time unfolded I realized there was another very familiar species with a story that remains largely untold.

Humans. Climate refugees.

This was the tale I had to tell. And the time was now.

Every morning I’d wake up before the sun rose and come downstairs, drink my Dadaji’s lemongrass chai, open up my document and write. Page after page. Chapter after chapter.

One paragraph eventually blossomed into 65 pages.

I was excited. My love for writing was reignited.

I clicked submit on my application, adrenaline rushing in, crossing fingers and toes.

And…I was over the moon to be accepted!

All year, I wrote daily. On my phone. Scrap paper. Even receipts!

*YEA Book Launch (courtesy: The Telling Room)*

I began by developing four protagonists, each with their own dilemma. Characters with struggles, hopes, and dreams of their own. Humans not unlike you and me. And as Isla, Ava, Xenia, and Natasha— my four protagonists—learned their way around their worlds…I figured out my own way around the page.

We all learnt how we could use our love for art, family, and community as a form of activism.
I worked closely with my cohort of incredible authors (now friends), my amazing mentor, fabulous lead teachers and, of course, the creative, collaborative, and caring Telling Room community.
Through the process I learnt not only the skills and craft needed to write a book, but also how to tell a story.

And statistics go to the brain but stories go to the heart.

Throughout, I was bolstered by endless support and love from all three generations of my family. Cheering me on. Celebrating all the victories.
Celebrating the process.

I read my story out loud as it developed to my Dada and Ma. And, after an intense and rewarding ten months, I shared my completed novel, Changes in the Weather, with them, reading my dedication:
To them. For being my home.

And now…I’ve begun to see how to create home on and off the page, too.

I’ve learned how to use my words to catalyze positive change. To advocate for myself. Especially as a young woman of color it is crucial for me to stand my ground. Make space for myself and others.

I better understand the type of person I strive to be. Someone dedicated to bringing marginalized stories to the center of the page.

On August 25th 2022, at the age of 17, I became a published author.

Yes, as a child I loved to write. I still do. As it did back then too, writing continues to be a way to better understand myself and the world around me, and to dream up a world of my own.

And now I see how—pen to paper, words to world—it’s a way to dream a better future for all of us, too.

Leela Marie Hidier was born and raised in London, UK, and now lives in a three-generational household in Maine. Changes in the Weather is her debut novel, which she wrote as part of The Telling Room’s Young Emerging Authors program. Changes in the Weather has received a Scholastic Gold Key Award, and was a Silver Finalist for Hindi’s Libraries international 2022 Females of Fiction Award. An excerpt from the novel can also be found in the Telling Room anthology Echoes from the Basement. Leela Marie’s essay “Weaving Home” was published in Amjambo Africa newspaper. She is currently part of the Telling Room’s year-long Young Writers & Leaders program and her personal narrative will be published in a YWL anthology this spring. Leela enjoys playing the piano and mandolin, reading historical fiction, discovering new swimming holes and beaches, baking without recipes, and, of course, writing. She hopes her words will humanize the issues we are facing—and help us face them together.

**About** Changes in the Weather
Four teenagers displaced by climate change.
For those coming of age in a time of uncertainty, it’s no longer a question of whether they will be impacted by climate change but when. In this ring of stories from debut author Leela Marie Hidier, four young people find sanctuary—and strength—in their families, friends, communities, and even strangers. Along the way, they learn to use their voices to create change and discover what home really means.

***WIND***
*How will Isla fix her family in a world that’s blown apart?*
***EARTH***
*Can a romance bloom for artist Ava, even in a land that’s parched?*
***WATER***
*Will songwriter Xenia find the words to express her flooding heart?*
***FIRE***
*How will Natasha put out the fire but still hold on to her spark?*

Photos courtesy of Leela Marie Hidier

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