Kauakanilehua Māhoe Adams, a Native Hawaiian (Kānaka Maoli) poet, debuts with an intense and lyrical verse novel, An Expanse of Blue (Heartdrum, May 19). Adams contributed a short story in verse to the multi-award-winning anthology Legendary Frybread Drive-In: Intertribal Stories, edited by Cynthia Leitich Smith (Muscogee). Her new work centers on 17-year-old Aouli, whose family is from Kona, Hawai‘i. She’s growing up near Seattle and navigating questions of cultural belonging and dislocation, feelings of betrayal and isolation, and the frightening emotional vulnerability awakened by Nalu, the boy she likes. Adams told us more about the book by email.
What led you to write this story?
I’ve been writing about teenagers since I was one! I suspect it has something to do with a desire to better understand my own adolescence. I drew inspiration from my own memories of growing up in the Catholic church, as well as my experience as a Native Hawaiian born and raised in the diaspora. It felt right that a story about one girl’s transformation takes place at what is universally a transformative time in life. My goal as an author is to authentically capture that for young readers.
I spent years trying to write this story in prose before finally deciding to explore verse. I already loved to write poetry; I just never considered writing a verse novel myself. When I told one of my advisors in my MFA program that I wanted to give verse a try, she suggested starting from memory by plucking out a strand of inspiration from my own adolescence. Writing that first poem unlocked something within me.
What was most challenging—and rewarding—about working on this book?
I think the biggest challenge was being brave enough to write it in the first place. So cheesy, I know! But telling this story required me to be extremely vulnerable in a way I hadn’t asked of myself before.
The most rewarding moments have been getting to see the book slowly take shape at each passing stage. Refining a poem is so satisfying. Writing a verse novel is like doing a puzzle—it requires a lot of hard work, dedicated time, and faith that it’s going to turn out.
The story has so many rich strands, yet it’s cohesive and free of expository infodumps. It’s both culturally specific and widely relatable.
Oh, gosh. Thank you! Aouli navigates a lot: love, heartbreak, betrayal, and faith—in oneself, in others, and in our ancestors. Honestly, I worried at times that I was throwing too much at her. But that’s adolescence! I think writing in verse was key. Writing poetry comes with built-in safeguards. The form demands careful consideration of each and every word—of the word itself and where it ultimately lands on the page. I used the form to my advantage, focusing only on weaving the most important threads of the story and then trusting the reader to fill in the rest.
Have you had any feedback that’s been especially meaningful?
A few early readers have really enjoyed the love story between Aouli and Nalu, which is extra meaningful since that aspect was my favorite to write.
What are you most looking forward to about having your book out in the world?
I am looking forward to Kānaka teens growing up in the diaspora getting their hands on this book. I hope that they find bits of themselves within it and that it might serve as a reminder to them that our stories are worth telling.
Laura Simeon is a young readers' editor.