Miscellany

Here's some video and photo footage from the Harlem Book Fair. I created this using the web-based Jumpcut. Upload video, photos, and audio and create your own product. It's pretty cool. The video includes images of Mary Morrison, Cong. Charles Rangel, Omar Tyree, Malaika Adero, Booking Matters, Relentless Aaron, Crystal Lacey Winslow, Zane, Brother Earl, Daaimah Poole, Troy Johnson, and Heather Covington.

Wood Paneling

At 1:15, Troy Johnson of AALBC.com, swings by my table. We're on a panel that will focus on the state and necessity of book reviews. As ad dollars shrink for print magazines and newspapers many are folding their review sections into the arts and lifestyles sections. Closing separate book review sections that once were a stable of many print media outlets. On the panel was Troy; Shunda Leigh, Booking Matters magazine; a publisher (whose name I'll fill in); and myself. Max Rodriguez moderated. The panel was held in the Countee Cullen NYPL branch library. It's always a challenge to build audience in this location because it's directly competing with panels being held concurrently at the newly renovated Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture.

The panel went well though I felt the focus was too heavily weighted on paid reviews. I think the greater concern is the democratization of opinions and reviews. The Internet and blogs have changed the ability for "gatekeepers" to filter who will be privileged enough to make it into the popular zeitgeist. Because of the popularity of blogs, that model has been flipped. Now, everyone can be a critic, have access to a wide audience, and influence choices. I'm all for it but I do think the new paradigm deserves examination. Particularly in the Black arts community, which only recently gained access to review media.

A Bright Sunshiny Day (Part I)

Yeah, it was one of those days. Stress free and (almost) everything went according to plan

Hopped in a cab by my place near Van Cortlandt Park in the Boogie Down, zoomed down the Deagan, and was at the Harlem Book Fair in 10 minutes. I was in line, awaiting my table assignment at 9:15. Then butterflies start to flutter as I get to the front of the line. I think to myself, "Please find my name, Guardian of the master list." And in two secs I'm found, pointed west, and headed for my table. In tow: two boxes of Mosaic (250 issues), two boxes of Exclusive by Yasmin Shiraz--she sent me some boxes to distribute to the crowd, a two-foot poster of the new issue, and a bag of goodies --tape, scissors, string, markers, camcorder, etc.--it's the equivalent of Batman's utility belt. Vendors were even given badges this year to prevent just any enterprising "go-getter" from setting up a table without first giving proof that he or she is a legit vendor -smart. The butterflies calm as I begin my walk, running into folks from BEA, ALA, past fairs --"we are family..." Table and chairs are there! First hurdle cleared. I settle in, set up, and wait for the literate hoards to start their besiege.

I usually need some help manning the table --this year I was also on a panel-- so I enlisted my buds Fred Douglas and Sharice Staten. Fred is committed to CPT the way Ossie was committed to Ruby. He believes deeply in it, and has mastered the Jedi mind-trick of convincing me I'm wrong for being timely. But low and behold, shortly after 10am, he appears, Sharice in tow.

Yeah, it's gonna be a bright sunshiny day.

Something celestial happens, every year, around the time of the Fair. There's always the threat of rain of day before. You think it may extend into Saturday, and, with the exception of one year, it's usually the most glorious day of the summer. Cloudless sky, 80 degrees, and a slight breeze. The throngs of booklovers quickly fill 135th between 5th and Adam Clayton Powell. It's days like this that are spiritually supportive. Helping to encourage you to keep on keepin' on in spite of the challenges.

By the end of the day, dying of thirst and pelted by sun, I finally had a chance to assess the day. Things are changing. Urban lit is by far the dominated form in the African-American genre being published today. The publishers are without relent and full of brio. I still have hope that there will be a realization that they are part of a continuum and must start to consider their place in it. There are new James Baldwins and June Jordans out there who, in 2007, may have a hard time finding a publisher. From the love and admiration I received I believe there is a market for literary works, and independent publishers have the necessary tools (income + guerilla smarts) to find and publish them.

Part II: I shot some video, talked to a lot of folks, took notes on my panel, introduced a Paul Robeson Jr. conversation on Sunday...

The Har(l)em Book Fair

For those who don't know, Friday, July 20 - Sunday, July 22, 2007, the Harlem Book Fair will take place on 135th St between 5th and Adam Clayton Powell Blvd. It's in its 9th year and I've been fortunate enough to attend every year. Thousands, tens of thousands attend this event every year -the actual fair is on Saturday. It's one of the few opportunities for folks to get together and wallow in Blackness, gain knowledge, and get burned by the sun.

I'll have a table somewhere in the midst of my Africans. Can't say where yet. It always seems to be a top secret and you never know your exact location until you get there. Once I get my number the butterflies in my stomach flutter as I search the streetscape hoping my table and chairs have not been commandeered. But I love it!

Logistics aside, the greatness of the day comes with the variety of readers who I will have conversations with throughout the day. I'm sure I'll receive some first-person reflections on Gwendolyn Brooks, article pitches, magazine reviews, business advice, on and on. But it's cool. It all comes from the heart.

And, if this year is anything like the past I'm sure I shall quickly reap what I have sewn. In my previous post I supported the idea of self publishers' prodigious marketing skills being adopted by all authors. The Harlem Book Fair is where skills are honed. As you are accosted by writers pushing newly-printed books at your face and midsection -bob and weave- you find yourself focusing more on the writer's verbal agility -a 10-second sales pitch can pack more information than the book actually holds. It is a sight to see (and hear).

Mosaic continues to publish in spite of financial challenges. I'll be out there with issues #18 & #19, which features Gwendolyn Brooks on the cover. It will be interesting to see how the issue will be received -Ms. Brooks being the first Black to win the Pulitzer Prize. I mentioned this previously, but I was somewhat shocked by the number of librarians I met at ALA who did not have a firm handle on who Ms. Brooks was. I'm sure my people will not let me down.

I'll also be on a panel. Come through!

1:30 – 2:45p The Book Review in Print: The Last of a Dying Breed?
Moderator: TK
Panelists: Shunda Leigh, Booking Matters Magazine; Troy Johnson, AALBC.com;
Ron Kavanaugh, MosaicBooks.com & Mosaic Magazine

Over the past five years, book coverage at dozens of newspapers has been cut back or slashed altogether, puffed up with wire copy, or generally treated as expendable. How does this impact the marketing of books targeted to the African American reader, which already suffers from paltry recognition in the mass media? Authors can purchase a review in some black book review publications. Is this an unethical abuse of reader trust or simply a necessary business tool for ad-starved publications?

Looking at the South Gate

Martha Southgates's editorial in the New York Times Book Review has been buzzing through the blogosphere. Her essay reflects on the glass ceiling Black writers face after publishing two or three novels.

"I am a 46-year-old writer of “literary” fiction. I’ve had three novels published — the first for young people, the last two for adults. All have won minor prizes, been respectfully reviewed and sold modestly. I’ve been awarded a few fairly competitive fellowships and grants. The business is full of fiction writers like me. With one difference: I’m black, born and raised in the United States. At the parties and conferences I attend, and in the book reviews I read, I rarely encounter other African-American “literary” writers, particularly in my age bracket. There just don’t seem to be that many of us out there, and that’s something I’ve come to wonder about a great deal. And so I got on the phone with some editors and African-American writers to talk about it."

She writes with heroic concern about the fact that writers such as Toni Morrison and Ralph Ellison (who I don't believe fits well into this because of his writer's block and self doubt was so devastating) for all their greatness, published sporadically and were in their forties before true success arrived. As I enter my mid-forties with hopes of writing I did take some offense at the thought that 40 was somewhat late in life. But I'll leave that for another post.

Martha, who I met once and seemed lovely, is doomed. Sorry, Martha. On one level there's an assumption that being published is a right and not a privilege. She buys into the myth of the traditional publishing dynamic that's dangled in front of her every time a White writer is published.

The old publishing world: I write, you publish. Success!
The new publishing world: I write, you, my German-owned-conglomerate publisher, find a niche that's comfortable for you, I work that niche until there's no hair left on it, all the while looking for traditional and new media options to help synergize and commodify my talent to help lift the marketing burden off you. Oprah, please call. Success!?

Publishers investing in writers based on talent is rare. As a magazine publisher, and potential publicity vehicle- the writers' mantra is, "but my publisher is investing no money in my book..." This is the Flava Flav era, Martha, and only a lucky few writers (Black or White) can escape this whirlpool. In this equation, talent, is at best, an innocent bystander. The world's attention span has so drastically shifted that the issue will soon be not how many books you publish but why should you be published at all.

"Though the publishing industry remains overwhelmingly white, editors say they are always looking for good, marketable work by writers of any background. Morgan Entrekin, publisher of Grove/Atlantic, which recently published Michael Thomas’s first novel, “Man Gone Down” — one of the few novels by an African-American to grace the cover of this publication of late — said: “I don’t tend to approach the black writers we publish as African-American. I see them as writers first.” "

Almost all people have an affinity for their aspirations or history, and no matter how open-minded we profess to be these provide safe spaces. White writers and publishers no longer belong to the proverbial country and private clubs, but they do inhabit the same mental space. Similar backgrounds, cultures, tastes bind us all into definable categories -for better or worse. It's what draws Black people together like red blood cells, clotting intimately in a party filled with Whites -trying to understand why Amy Winehouse plays over and over in the background. We stand on the periphery glaring -she's the queen of soul!?

Unlike most, I not only talk the talk but I walk the walk. So here's the solution:
Every writer who considers his or herself "literary" should take on a pen pal. Preferable a chick lit or urban fiction writer. Edward P. Jones teams with Vicki Stringer, Randall Keenan with Kwan, Martha with Relentless Aaron. To avoid the dreaded public interaction pretend your pal lives in Europe and you can only communicate via email. But you should form a bound and learn. Your future is in your hands. If you want to succeed -and publish books at your pace- you have to get up everyday and work twice as hard as you worked the day before. Get a table on 1-2-5, let people know who you are and why they should read your book.

"Hey Relentless!"
"Hey Merci [nee Martha Southgate but renamed Merciless Martha at a Yoruba/hip-hop naming ceremony] . I see you out here grindin' huh?
"Gotta make that paper, baby."
"No doubt, no doubt."
"Where you headed after this, Black?"
"I'm taking a box of books to the International Black Hair Symposium, Merci. Just goin' to hang see what's poppin'."
"I feel you, son. I'll roll with you..."

Filter out my silliness and the bottom line is Relentless Aaron publishes when he wants and is not overly concerned with waiting for others to bring success to him.

That no matter how hard you work, the "big house" with it's fresh whitewashed columns, open door, and Mint Juleps will rarely be a welcoming place. You have a plow strapped to your back and you must work, i.e., sell. The plow may be an exquisite piece of craftsmanship -forged steel, well-turned and polished wood, sinewy leather straps all working in unison. But it's still a plow created so the owner can better monetize his or her crop.

This issue, framed in publishing, has nothing to do with publishing and everything to do with empowerment. Until we realize that our water can be as cold as anyone elses there will always be a pall over our success and satisfaction.