One Book Winner Cassie Premo Steele Leads Community Discussion on Her Novel Beaver Girl

On Tuesday, August 27th, Cassie Premo Steele will offer insight into her 2023 novel Beaver Girl during her author’s talk at All Good Books (734 Harden St). 

The Jasper Project, in conjunction with One Columbia, and All Good Books, announced Steele’s novel as the selected community reading for the 2024 One Book project earlier this year.

One Book was first adopted by Columbia in 2011, modeled after the One Book, One Community project that started in the Seattle public library system in 1998. The goal is to highlight literary art by South Carolina authors and to emphasize a sense of community around storytelling. 

Beaver Girl is “set against the backdrop of a post-pandemic and climate-collapsed world” as it follows 19-year-old Livia through a journey with a beaver family in Congaree National Park. The story both reveals the unique role of beavers in the world’s ecosystem and the “redemption, resilience, and interconnectedness of all living beings.” 

Next week’s Community Book Discussion will give readers of the book a chance to pick Steele’s brain and interrogate the themes of the story. Even locals who have not had an opportunity to read the book can take advantage of the evening to get to know a local author and learn more about this community-oriented project. 

Jasper talked with Steele ahead of the event to find out just why this event is so vital—both as part of this project and beyond.

 

JASPER: Why does this discussion matter to you as an author?

STEELE: For the past five months, the 2024 One Book Project has hosted events giving people the opportunity to read and learn about the themes in Beaver Girl. I’ve led workshops on beaver ecology and ethics from Congaree National Park to Oregon and Washington State. I’ve engaged in panel discussions about the novel with beaver scholar Emily Fairfax online and a host of scholars and activists here in our community at the Nickelodeon Theater. And I’ve given classes on writing “the code of the water way” to writers and science educators from across the states of Oklahoma and South Carolina. 

Tuesday’s discussion, though, will be a homecoming, returning back to the local bookstore where the Jasper Project, One Columbia for Arts and Culture, and All Good Books chose Beaver Girl for this year’s community reading selection. And as the characters Livia and Chap learn in Beaver Girl, there’s no place like home. 


JASPER: Why might people want to get a behind the scenes look for this book specifically? 


STEELE: The community book discussion will be an opportunity for people to share stories about their fears about environmental disasters and the losses the pandemic and political upheavals have caused — themes addressed in the novel— but also their [positive] experiences with the natural world, their strategies for self-care and connection, and their hopes for a future where we enjoy the abundant richness of diversity in our human and more than human communities. 

 

JASPER: Why should people take the time to meet local artists? 

STEELE: We have a rich, diverse city filled with creative people, and we live in a unique biosphere region that is unlike anything else on earth. The book shows us how we can learn to live together in harmonious ways — and what can happen if we do not. 


JASPER: Why should the community be excited for this event, specifically?

STEELE: In the end, Beaver Girl is really a book about family and community. Who do we love? How can we learn to trust again after great trauma? What members of our community need care, and how can we be open to communicating with those who are different from us? The moderator of our discussion, Ruth Smyrle, took care of my stepdaughter when she was a baby, so there’s an element of family woven into the event itself. I hope people will feel that reading and discussing Beaver Girl gives them an opportunity to feel part of a beautiful and diverse community. 

 

The Community Book Discussion will be Tuesday, August 27, from 6:00pm—7:30pm at All Good Books.

If you can’t make it on the 27th you can also meet Steele at one of the following events:

  • Monday, September 9 at 6:30-7:30 PM - Queer-Themed Book Discussion with Cassie Premo Steele, Author of Beaver Girl, Moderated by Maggie Olszewski, Queer Poet and Employee at All Good Books, to be held at The Hoot, 2910 Rosewood Drive, Suite 1, Columbia SC

  • Saturday, September 7 at 10 AM-12 PM - Summer Forest Journaling with the Author of Beaver Girl and Earth Joy Writing at Congaree National Park : Free but space is limited. Register here.

  • Tuesday, September 17 6:00-7:30 PM - All Booked Up, the S.C. Sea Grant Consortium’s Coastal Reading Club for formal, non-formal, or homeschool educators, discussing Beaver Girl. Online. More info here.

  • Sunday, September 22 at 3:00-6:00 PM - ONE BOOK 2024 Round-Up Party and Potluck Dinner with BYOB. Music, Art, DJ, Poetry, Cozy Conversations and Hugs! One Columbia Co-Op, 1013 Duke Avenue, Columbia, SC

 

Congaree National Park Spring Forest Wellness Journaling w/ ONE BOOK 2024's Cassie Premo Steele, author of Beaver Girl

Saturday, April 27, 2024

10:00 AM 12:00 PM

Harry Hampton Visitor Center - 100 National Park Road - Hopkins, SC, 29061

Cassie Premo Steele - author of Beaver Girl, the selected novel for ONE BOOK 2024

Journaling With Cassie Premo Steele, Author of Beaver Girl

Join us for our FREE Forest Wellness Program with Cassie Premo Steele, the author of the new novel, Beaver Girl, an environmental novel set in Congaree National Park. Relieve the stresses of your everyday life by taking the time to reconnect with nature and learn more about the importance of this special ecosystem. The program will include a 2-mile (round trip) meditative walk and a journaling workshop. In this workshop, participants will have the opportunity to participate in mindful reflection, meditation, and journaling.

No previous experience is necessary, and all writing will be kept private. A free Congaree National Park journal and pen will be provided to registered participants.

Please meet at the Harry Hampton Visitor Center. All you need to participate is yourself, a water bottle, comfortable shoes, and comfortable clothing. Space is limited, so please sign up ahead of time. For questions or more information please email e-mail us

Pets are not permitted on this program, but service animals are welcome.

Registration is limited to 20 and opens March 26 on Eventbrite

Check out the Jasper Project’s ONE BOOK 2024 page for more info on additional ONE BOOK 2024 events

REGISTER HERE!

Cassie Premo Steele's BEAVER GIRL is the ONE BOOK 2024 Selection!

The Jasper Project, in partnership with One Columbia for Arts and Culture and All Good Books, is delighted to announce that Cassie Premo Steele’s novel BEAVER GIRL has been chosen as the community reading selection for the ONE BOOK 2024 Project.

Set against the backdrop of a post-pandemic and climate-collapsed world, Beaver Girl follows the journey of Livia, a 19-year-old confronting the aftermath of environmental upheaval. As wildfires encircle her, Livia seeks solace in Congaree National Park, where an unexpected alliance with a beaver family becomes a central theme in her fight for survival.

Steele skillfully intertwines elements of a morality tale, shedding light on humanity's role in climate disaster. The novel delves into the ecological significance of beavers as keystone species, emphasizing their ability to shape landscapes and create sustainable water sources.

Beaver Girl  transcends traditional genres, offering a narrative that explores themes of redemption, resilience, and the interconnectedness of all living beings. Anxiety and Outcast Press, through this joint venture, bring forth a powerful story that challenges readers to reflect on the consequences of environmental negligence.

Jasper, One Columbia, and All Good Books have joined hands to provide a summer-long celebration of the project with programming, readings, an arts competition, and a culminating project party in September.

Pick up your copy of BEAVER GIRL,* read along, and join us for the following free events!

*Beaver Gril is available at All Good Books, Liberation is Lit, Amason, Barnes & Noble & Bookshop.org

Poetry of the People with Cassie Premo Steele

This week's Poet of the People is the indomitable Cassie Premo Steele. Cassie is an Earth mother to many poets and writers. Her poetry invites you to take a walk with her in a forest to her safe place for an intimate poetry salon with the denizens of nature. A Daughter of Light, she leads you back to the city refreshed and remade.

~~~~

Cassie Premo Steele is a lesbian ecofeminist poet and novelist and the author of 18 books. She will be reading from Swimming in Gilead, her seventh book of poetry, at Simple Gifts on November 7, and the launch party for her third novel, Beaver Girl, will be at All Good Books on November 16. Her poetry has won numerous awards, including the Archibald Rutledge Prize named after the first Poet Laureate of South Carolina, where she lives with her wife. She is currently running a Kickstarter project to fund the Beaver Girl Book Tour:

Poems from Swimming in Gilead, Yellow Arrow Publishing, 2023

~~~~~

Let Us Begin Again

 

Be very quiet. Make it dawn.

Rise from bed. Walk on the lawn.

Wait for it. The sun is coming.

It’s a new one. It’s beginning.

You don’t believe me, you say

this happens every day, there’s

nothing new under the sun and

certainly not the sun itself.

Put your doubts on a shelf,

I say to you. Hush now.

Listen to the birds singing.

Watch the blue ones feeding

their babies. See the heron

heading south for fishing.

Look at the egrets catching

pink light in their white wings.

Faith is made of things like

these, everyday movements,

sights and sounds that you

usually ignore, and today,

since you’ve told me you’re

tired of life and wanting something

more, I’ve shown you how to do it,

and now that you know,

come, let us begin again.


The Woman Speaks of Bicycles 

I’ve known bicycles:

I’ve known bicycles new as my skin and older than my dried blood

from my womb.

 

I’ve known bicycles:

Reliable rubber and metal bicycles.

My body has grown strong like bicycles.

 

I rode along the Minnesota roads when constant motion was my freedom.

I got off my bike and walked the sugar bluffs, puffing with each step.

I looked upon the Mississippi and had a vision of finally flowing away.

I heard the wheels of my bike whizzing downhill at the end of the day.

 

I’ve known bicycles:

Reliable rubber and metal bicycles.

My body has grown strong like bicycles.

 

I rode in Carolina when children waited for me back home.

I got off my bike and walked the hilly edge of Covenant Road.

I looked upon the Congaree River and knew I would always stay.

I heard the music of my own voice saying I could live a different way.

 

My body has grown strong like bicycles.

  

This Is How We 

I once knew a Native woman,

Eastern Cherokee, who taught me

that in order to fix a rip in a basket,

you can’t just go in after it.

You have to unwind the fibers until

it’s pinestraw and sweetgrass again.

This is how we begin again.

 

I once injured my left knee

and the physical therapist,

a Latina from Texas, showed

me how a lack of stability

in my right hip had caused it.

The body crosses like this,

she said. It’s all connected.

This is how we heal again.

 

I once lay on my bed for hours

on end, as a child in Minnesota,

reading book after book while

my body disappeared, and so

did the pain and fear, until

I was just a mind in a story.

It took me years to invite

my body back into the party.

This is how we move again.

 

I once stayed in endless motion

of serving and cleaning, cooking

and feeding, wiping and washing,

drying and folding, until my mind,

always so strong, broke hard

and long, and for the first time,

I told the truth in therapy.

This is how we feel again.

 

I once heard a song that felt

like it was singing all that had

gone wrong, and I thought

it had been written just for

me, and then a pandemic broke

the globe and I realized everybody

knows the melody of tragedy.

This is how we begin to be together for the first time really.

 

Sun Loving 

Just before the day ends, I look up

and the sun is in drag, orange lipstick

and purple fingernails, red hair,

peach high heels, and I say, Hey, girl,

Where you headed? And she says,

Off to bed. Alone? I ask. You know

better than that, she laughs, and

as she sashays away, I see the moon

and stars take her by the hand

and lead her downstairs to a ballroom

for a final dance before kisses and

all the love she has ever deserved.

 

Under a Full Moon 

What must be done is a gathering

of women under a full moon,

each one holding in her hands

a leaf or bud or flower, blade

of grass, and together we say

the names of these plants,

and the list transforms into

a poem, a prayer, a spell, an

incantation, a chant and belief

in peace, peace, peace, peace.

 

And when our throats go sore

and voices tire, we take our

empty hands and make a chain

to keep the violence from crashing

into bodies any longer, and

dream that war will cease.

  

Seeds 

I spent years diving and digging

and bringing coral and diamonds

up into the light with my palms,

but the sun had dimmed so much

that my gifts were invisible, and I

mourned the bodies and voices

of women and girls I’d wanted

to crown with orange and bright

jewels who had all gone down

underground in a collective action

of mutual survival, and so I let

what I wanted to give away

drop to the ground and walked

so long up a mountain that I could

look back and see the seeds had

buried themselves back into the

earth to be trees. Tall were their

trunks and the leaves sang green

songs to bring the girls and woman

back to me and back into the castles

and courts we ruled over again in

this land where we’d always belonged.

  

Tuesday Afternoon 

I walk with my fingers on the page and

I dance with my hips on the stage I have

made in my room where bluebirds take

turns with me playing the parts of star

and audience and I hear the silence filled

with breath and electric hum and a neighbor’s

rake and I touch my dog’s fur and think

about origins and species and know that

nothing the mind does brings as much joy

as an animal can and I laugh while

remembering my grandson’s voice after he

knocked my chin with a stick in the garden

and asked me, Are you okay, Gaga?

and I wonder what would have happened

if God had been more like this boy in Eden

and instead of rules and banishment, we’d

been met in our mistakes and our pain

with a question and compassion.