On "American Fiction" and Being a Non-white Writer
Who are we writing for?
A friend of mine told me about this movie last year. We had made plans to watch it together in the theatre. For some reason or another, it never happened.
I finally watched it yesterday at home with my husband, even though he initially said he had no interest in watching it. But it was so well-made that even he was glued.
I won’t ruin it for others who haven’t seen it, because I really do think it’s worth a watch. But I do want to share a few reflections based on some of the issues the film really brilliantly grapples with.
While the story surrounds a Black writer and the expectations white people have about the “Black Narrative,” I think there’s a lot of applicability to other non-white writers, as well.
There’s a lot of gatekeeping in the publishing industry. Traditional publishing is predominantly white. Luckily, there are some literary agents and even some acquisitions editors who are not white, but from what I have found, very few Muslims.
What does this mean for a Muslim woman such as myself who still has the naive goal of getting traditionally published by a Big 5 publisher?
It means I “have” to write for a white, non-Muslim audience in some ways.
I had submitted a sample of my manuscript in progress for an assessment to a writing coach a couple of months ago. The section I had submitted mentioned terms most Muslims should be at least familiar with. Her feedback was to give more context, specifically to explain what I meant by “Sufi” and “Salafi.” Me being the novice in comparison, I took her advice and reached for some books on my shelf I could reference to elucidate the terms.
I re-read this passage a few days ago. I didn’t like the way it read. The section went from being a budding narrative to sounding like an undergraduate research paper. Encouraged by a video Hajera Khaja had posted about no longer feeling the need to explain basic Islamic terminology in her writing, I removed the recent contextual sentences I had added. I rewrote the passage in a way so that most readers (I think) would be able to piece together the basic message I am trying to convey.
I’ll have to revise this section even more, I’m sure.
But watching the movie yesterday made me grapple with the reality that at some point I will have to decide who I am actually writing for.
Is it for other Muslim women?
Is it for children of South Asian immigrants?
Or do I want to reach a wider audience?
I do think my story has something new to add to complicate or problematize the narratives about Muslims that permeate mainstream US culture.
Is it not possible to write for all of these audiences?
I am curious to know what others think. Please do leave a comment and let me know!
This is really thought-provoking for me. The question of who we are writing for is really important. I also feel, when you get deep enough, there's a level of human that speaks to everyone. It's the opposite of bland writing for the masses. It's going so specific that the truth of what we are saying can be felt. By anyone.
Not everyone knows the definition of "Sufi" or "Salafi" not even all Muslims, but everybody knows the conflict of who they are on the inside not matching up to what people expect on the outside. Everybody knows the pain of realising they were wrong. Everybody knows fear, loss, and fragile hope .
Whoever we write for, I think it's really important that it's not a publisher...
Just my two cents