Guest post written by Rowan and Gemma author Sally J. Pla
Award-winning children’s author Sally J. Pla includes neurodiversity, humor, empathy, compassion, joy, and acceptance in her books. She is the Schneider Family Award winning author of THE FIRE, THE WATER, AND MAUDIE McGINN, the Dolly Gray Award winner THE SOMEDAY BIRDS, and many other acclaimed novels and picture books. Her books have been translated into lots of languages, have starred reviews, and appear on at least 27 state awards lists and many “best book of the year” roundups.
About Rowan and Gemma: In this new middle grade novel by Schneider Award-winning author Sally J. Pla, two neurodivergent tweens, one of whom is nonverbal, forge a friendship against the backdrop of their feuding families. Releases October 20th 2026.
I have a new book out. Some people are calling the title Rowan PLUS Gemma, others Rowan AND Gemma. Either way is fine—once a book is out in the world, it belongs to the reader. But there’s kind of a funny story about that plus sign.
In my texts and emails, I typically use the ‘+’ key as a shorthand for the word ‘and.’ So, while working on the details of this new book with my publisher, I’d short-handed the title to ‘R+G’ in my email subject headings, etc. The cover artist noted the ‘+’ sign and assumed it was an intentional title choice, and used it in the cover design. Which I love. I think the cover is incredibly beautiful.
Anyhow. The other day, I got a Google alert: a new podcast had reviewed my book. I clicked the link, gave it a quick listen, and realized to my horror/amusement that this was an AI-generated podcast—a very sophisticated one. Two pleasant cyber-hosts were discussing the “ingenious use of the plus” in the title of Rowan Plus Gemma. They thought the choice of a plus sign beautifully summed up the relationship between the two main characters. Which they called “a bond that adds up to more than the sum of its parts.”
Hmm. That was ingenious. Or sounded ingenious. Too bad I didn’t think of it! Furthermore, is it weird to feel grateful to reviewers who don’t exist? To a computer program that made an assumption about a typography choice made based on assumption?
The modern world is bewildering.
Rowan and Gemma is a story about assumptions—the wrong assumptions we make about each other. And how there can be terrible fallout from that. Rowan and Gemma’s parents are engaged in a feud based on misinformation. It’s a public, political feud, with news bias and vitriol and nasty exchanges that almost tears apart the town—and casts a terrible pall upon our young couple’s lives, and their bond.
I am so interested in the power, and sometimes the powerlessness, of words. Gemma is non-speaking autistic. Rowan stutters and has learning delays. These two truly know the weight and value of finding the right word. They both struggle with it daily.
As an undiagnosed autistic kid, I often went mute for days. The struggle to say the right thing at the right time, to choose the right word, was too much for me. I think it’s why I became a writer. Because of all the live interactions I’d bungled, I’d learned early that I could make sense of the world only after retreating to the quiet of my room, at the end of the day, where I’d rehash all the chaotic and bewildering sensory data. I’d rewrite the botched conversations. I’d take my time to find those right words. The ones I couldn’t say at the moment.
I’d summon those precious right words, each one carefully considered and chosen. And I would put them to paper. If I couldn’t say them aloud at the right time, then at least I could write them out later. A little Wordsworthian “recollection in tranquility.”
We live in strange times, when what is real and fake and true and false is all whipped up in a digital whirlwind, a tornado blur that whirls constantly around us, blinding us.
Rowan and Gemma—or Rowan PLUS Gemma—is an innocent young love story that will hopefully convey to readers the potency and value inherent in their own words. How the right words—ones of kind intent, honesty, truth—can help to cut through the bewildering blur of bias we are all stewing in, 24/7.
Rowan and Gemma have a secret room where they go to take a breath, calm down. Maybe we all need something like that—a way to step back, recollect our thoughts, suss the truth from the noise. Hear ourselves think, again.
