You have to admit, a good story is a good story — although Khadijah VanBrakle never set out to become a writer.
In her own words, “Writing books was never on my to-do list.” Born to American parents and raised in Canada, she built a life in New Mexico as a mother of five, earning a degree in accounting and nearly completing an MBA before discovering her true calling. It was only in 2012, inspired by a New Year’s resolution and encouragement from her daughter’s teacher, that VanBrakle began writing — at first, a middle-grade fantasy, then picture books, and finally, stories for teens. She joined her local chapter of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators, where she found her community and gained the confidence to pursue her new passion in earnest.
VanBrakle’s journey, though, was about more than just finding her voice as a writer. As an African American Muslim woman raising three daughters who share her dual identity, she was acutely aware of the stories missing from library shelves — especially those featuring African American Muslim teens as main characters. In 2017, a visit to her local library confirmed what she already suspected: Not a single traditionally published, contemporary YA novel featured a protagonist like her daughters. That absence was more than a statistic; it was a call to action.
VanBrakle’s debut, “Fatima Tate Takes the Cake” (2023), answered that call. The novel follows 17-year-old Fatima, an aspiring pastry chef navigating the push and pull of family expectations, faith, and her own dreams. Fatima’s journey is universal in its coming-of-age themes but deeply specific in its exploration of identity, culture, and the challenges faced by African American Muslim teens. VanBrakle’s commitment to authentic representation shines through: “It’s amazing and sometimes surreal when I realize that characters who share my dual marginalization are living within my stories and others are able to read about them,” she said.
Now, with her second YA novel, “My Perfect Family,” releasing on Aug. 26, 2025, from Holiday House, VanBrakle continues to break new ground. Like her debut, this novel centers an African American Muslim teen protagonist facing both everyday adolescent struggles and the unique pressures of dual marginalization. Both books are more than stories — they’re agents of change, expanding the boundaries of who gets to be seen and heard in young adult literature.
Here is an excerpt from “My Perfect Family” by Khadijah VanBrakle, releasing Aug. 26, 2025:
Copyright © 2025 by Lee VanBrakle. Reproduced with permission from Holiday House Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved.
I pace around the living room, picking up stray pieces of lint while I wait. After grabbing a mini water bottle off the counter, my mom joins me. “Ready, Leena?” She’s wearing a knee-length denim dress, and her dark auburn hair is slicked back into a tight bun.
Dazed, I follow her out the door and into the ten-year-old Subaru parked in our driveway. My heart’s thumping in my chest. I click the seat belt around me and sneak a glance at my mom.
She still won’t meet my eyes. “I got a phone call from Samira, my father’s sister. He had a heart attack and was rushed to Presbyterian in Rio Rancho.”
Blinking back confusion, I stare at the woman who gave birth to me.
WHO?
She’s checking all her blind spots, even glancing up at the rearview mirror — except she never looks at me. We back out of the driveway and speed down Comanche Road. I hear only a dull ringing in my ears. “W-why?” Numbness spreads across my body, but I get one word out.
We merge onto I-25 before my mom answers me. “I don’t understand your question, Leena.” Her fingers have the steering wheel in a vise grip.
My forehead throbs. A developing migraine. I push past the pain. “I have a grandfather and great-aunt? In this town? That I’ve never met? You told me — you said my dad died when you were pregnant with me. Was that a lie?” Anger shakes my hands. “You told me you didn’t have family. You came up with our motto No secrets, no lies, but you’ve been keeping this from me?”
We pass each mile marker in total silence.
It isn’t until we merge onto the Paseo exit that she answers. “I’m … I’m sorry. My childhood wasn’t a happy one. I ran away from home at sixteen. It’s been more than a decade since we’ve seen each other.”
Water clouds my vision. All I can hear is the rush of cars racing by us in the left lane. “WHY? Why did you keep them a secret?” Nothing she says will make a difference, but I’m owed an explanation. “Whatever happened, I still had a right to know. How did your aunt find you?”
Mom’s voice is stiff. “Samira saw one of my daycare flyers at the food co-op in Nob Hill. They don’t really live in town, Leena. They live in Santa Fe. To be honest, I never thought I’d ever see them again.”
We make a quick right into the hospital parking lot, and she pulls into the first empty space. “Leena, you’re right, okay. I should’ve told you a long time ago. But right now, we need to get inside. My father is very, very ill.”
My childhood dream of a big family fades like the setting sun. I had one, but I didn’t know about it, and now it’s losing a piece.
“Your dad passed away a few months before you were born. That is the truth. I decided to bring you up alone. Now … can we postpone the verbal flogging for later?”
With my stomach churning and my heart bruised, I follow my mom through the emergency room doors. The strong smell of cleaner wrinkles my nose. I plop down into the closest chair and stare at a silver gum wrapper on the floor. She leaves the registration window and takes the chair to my right.
Silence is the only thing we share.