When I first started my MFA program back in 2005, I was very aware of being one of very few black faces in the crowd. It had been that way for me as an undergrad, but with my MFA, I was concerned that my professors and classmates wouldn’t “get” my work because they didn’t know my life. And I was kind of right.
After I moved back to NYC, I made it a point to only write with “my own people” to avoid what I experienced while in grad school, and that was/is fine, but here’s a new development: by staying in these smaller groups, I inched myself out of the mainstream.
I want to tell myself “So what? The mainstream is for suckers and sellouts!” But the mainstream is where other brown girls, seeking stories about themselves, will find me faster. Representation matters. Why continue to marginalize ourselves?
I mean, yes, being in control of your project is great. I know that feeling of extreme accomplishment when a book is done and you send it out to the world knowing it’s amazing and that you did it yourself without any of the Big Houses helping you. However that also means your book probably won’t be in the window display of your local bookstore. And it probably won’t be reviewed by Publisher’s Weekly or The New York Times Book Review, which in turn means not that many people will hear about it so you’ll have to work extra hard to get it into the hands of the readers. Probably. There are exceptions, but not enough.
There’s this constant debate in my head these days, self-publish or seek an agent? Small boutique publisher or one of the mega-conglomerates? Hire a PR team or buckle down and do it myself? I HAVE QUESTIONS.
In the meantime, I’ve decided to inch my way out of my comfort zone and occupy spaces where writers don’t always look like me. Because, dammit, I’m here, too. I’m writing, too. And I will not be set aside or labeled or ignored. I worked too hard for this to be my fate!
xo
Raquel Ivelisse