The Hidden Guidelines for Literary Fiction Written By African Americans

The site All About Romance had an interesting blog dealing with guide lines for literary fiction. Robin Uncapher suggested in her article that while everyone likes to pretend there is no formula for writing literary fiction, everyone who publishes literary fiction knows exactly what the rules are. Read the full article here

Black people and women of all colors please take note of Ms. Upcapher’s first rule of the literary fiction formula.

“If possible the book should be written by a man and have a male voice, a white male voice. Women and minorities will be published but with the exception of a few designated hitters, they will not be eligible for the big prizes and kudos. If the narrator is African American she should sound like one and, if possible, write something historical. Writing about slavery is good but anything set prior to 1950 is okay. For example, an AA female writer who wishes to write a book about a female black lawyer in Boston involved in a major civil suit, should make sure the suit has something to do with being African American. Otherwise, she should forget about literary fiction and write romance or Chick Lit. If a female author is white she should write the way John Updike would write if he were a woman.”

The truth is funny but it hurts. If you are black and writing literary fiction you have to be aware of what is driving agents and editors choices of your work. Think about this folks. Go to books stores and check what’s on the shelves in the African American section especially in the category of debut fiction. See for yourselves what narrow portions of the black experience is allowed to be published. What new literary fiction there is by African Americans, and there is not a whole lot of it, fits this hidden formula and it’s a darn shame. What to do about it? I really don’t know. The novelist Bernice McFadden put on her blog a fictitious letter from publishers. Read it here unfortunately it is the absolute truth.

True Patriotism

On July 5, 1852, Douglass gave a speech at an event commemorating the signing of the Declaration of Independence, held at Rochester's Corinthian Hall. It was biting oratory, in which the speaker told his audience, "This Fourth of July is yours, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn." And he asked them, "Do you mean, citizens, to mock me, by asking me to speak to-day?"

Within the now-famous address is what historian Philip S. Foner has called "probably the most moving passage in all of Douglass' speeches."




What, to the American slave, is your 4th of July? I answer; a day that reveals to him, more than all other days in the year, the gross injustice and cruelty to which he is the constant victim. To him, your celebration is a sham; your boasted liberty, an unholy license; your national greatness, swelling vanity; your sound of rejoicing are empty and heartless; your denunciation of tyrants brass fronted impudence; your shout of liberty and equality, hollow mockery; your prayers and hymns, your sermons and thanks-givings, with all your religious parade and solemnity, are to him, mere bombast, fraud, deception, impiety, and hypocrisy -- a thin veil to cover up crimes which would disgrace a nation of savages. There is not a nation on the earth guilty of practices more shocking and bloody than are the people of the United States, at this very hour.



In his time Fredrick Douglas was often called unpatriotic. This man who worked hard to convince President Lincoln of the necessity of the Emancipation Proclamation. This parent who sent his own son off to a Civil War that gave no guarantee there would be freedom for African American slaves. This man who gave so much for so litttle respect in return during his life time was often considered unpatriotic.

So, This is what I will rembert this July 4th: Sometimes patriotism is being able to love your country so much that you know it is your sacred duty to point out it greatness flaws and faults so that things will be better in the future for everyone .



Happy Independence Day everyone.

THE ROAD TO PUBLICATION IS PAVED WITH CREAM CHEESE.

My agent Anita Diggs has posted on her blog the steps on the road to publication

Here is her description of the first step.


After the agent sends a contract for representation, it will take anywhere from one week to a full year to get a firm offer from a publishing house. It is a tension filled period for both agent and writer.


I’m on the first step, which may explain why I’m in the kitchen cooking for my writers groups. When I’m nervous I cook or I quilt. I should be working on the next novel but that’s another story.

One of my favorite things to bake is cheese cake. There is nothing more soothing than watching a pound or so of cream cheese smack and swirl around a mixing bowl. A favorite of my writing groups is my Cheesecake with Chocolate Glaze.

Next week we’ll talk about how to make my mother’s Peach Cobbler and the strangest and sweetest conversation I ever had with a man about how to cook something his deceased mother use to make for him.


Cheesecake with Chocolate Glaze

Makes 1 nine-inch cake

(Make sure all ingredients are at room temp)


7 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 -1/2cups graham-cracker crumbs

1-1/4 cups sugar

2 pounds cream cheese, room temperature

4 large eggs, lightly beaten

1 cup sour cream

Pinch of salt

6 ounces semisweet chocolate, chopped

4 tablespoons heavy cream


1. Heat oven to 350°. In a small saucepan, melt 5 tablespoons butter. In a medium bowl, combine graham-cracker crumbs and 1/4 cup sugar. Stir in melted butter until crumbs are moist. Pour mixture into a 9-inch springform pan; press firmly, forming a 1/2-inch crust up sides of pan. Bake until set, 12 to 15 minutes. Transfer to a wire rack.


2. Reduce temperature to 275°. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat cream cheese until smooth. Slowly add remaining cup sugar. Beat until well combined, about 3 minutes.


3. Drizzle in eggs, one at a time, stopping occasionally to scrape down bowl. Beat in sour cream and salt. Pour batter into crust.


4. Bake cheesecake until sides have set but center appears soft, about 1 hour 45 minutes. Transfer pan to a wire rack to cool. Run a paring knife around the outside of crust, loosening it from pan. When cool, cover tightly with plastic; let set at least 4 hours or overnight.


5. To serve, place chocolate, remaining 2 tablespoons butter, and cream in the top of a double boiler or a heat-proof bowl set over a pan of gently simmering water. Stir occasionally until melted. Remove from heat; let cool slightly. Pour chocolate glaze over cheesecake; spread into a circle, leaving a 1/2-inch border. Chill just until chocolate has set, about 10 minutes.

Stuff My Agent Made Me Take Out For Very Good Reasons #1

I love this prayer I wrote for my novel Act of Grace, but my agent said it was to much, and she's right, but I still love it. My Buddhist friend, who I thought would be really offended, loved it so much she asked for a copy.

My sister says this is how we pray when we know we have to forgive but we are still too angry to do it the right way. She says God understands but the expectation is that we have to do better in the future. That was my thought about the charater Grace when I wrote the prayer. At this point in the novel she knows she's suppose to forgive, but she's still too angry to do it right.

A Prayer for Our Enemy

Forgive all our enemies, those who can still be helped as well as all the abominable and evil ones who still be hating on us and wishing evil on us and just being dumb and ignorant by lying and deceiving and judging and damnming us. Holy One be as honey to my enemies. Holy One be as the moon and the sun and the stars to them that hate us. Holy One please take from me my desire to beat my enemies’ lying, deceitful and judgmental asses.

Amen

To My Mother Dorothy Jean Vancatledge Simpson

My mother is a poem I'll never be able to write, though everything I write is a poem to my mother.
~Sharon Doubiago

Thanks mom for everything. You died too young but all your little birds are doing well.

Love Karen

Memories of Race Horses Past

Paparouna also known as Poppy

I love horses and horse racing. When I was young I read nothing but horse novels and dreamed of learning to ride. Horse love got me into quilting but that's a story for another time. I use to be more addicted to the sport of racing than I am now. Once upon another lifetime I could spout off racing stats and quote pedigrees like scripture. I was the only African American teenager I knew who could read and use the Daily Racing Form.

About eleven years ago I was involved in a group called Virtual Owner Partnership where for 500.00 ( yes 500.00 ) a person could participate in the ownership of a racehorse. We were a group of folks who came from all walks of life to indulge in our obsession via the Internet. It was one of the most interesting thing I've ever done.

The first horse I was a part of was a wonderful filly named Papaprouna. Paparouna was a beautiful flaming red daughter of the great Kentucky Derby winner Unbridled, a grand daughter of the immortal Secretariat. The only reason our cash poor group got her was because during the auction a bird pooped on the head of the other high bidder and by the time he came back from washing the poop out his hair our group had her. There was almost a fist fight in the parking lot about that.

Paparouna was big ( 17 hands), strong and freakishly fast. Fillies and colts from the Unbridled bloodlines tend to come that way, they also tend to be rather unsound. During her racing career Paparouna was constantly sore or coming up lame. As a three year old she was on track to be nominated for the Kentucky Oaks (the filly's version of the Kentucky Derby) . Unfortunately she came up sore before the big race. As bad as we wanted to go to Kentucky- I mean it is the dream of a lifetime for any owner- our group had enough sense and horsemanship to send our baby back to the farm to rest and recover. Other horses in racing aren't so lucky. Horse racing in America tends to be about money and speed even it hurts the horse.

We raced Poppy for a while and then sold her to become a broodmare. While we received a lot of money for Poppy, several of the small time partners, including me, couldn't help but think that we were helping to past those unsound genes to the next generation.

Perhaps you have heard by now of the filly Eight Belles who shattered both front legs after finishing second in this years Kentucky Derby. It was a blessing that the camera was on the winner Big Brown when it happened. Eight Belles was huge, strong and freakishly fast and it didn't surprise me when I checked her pedigree that she was out of those fragil Unbridled's Although the winner of the Kentucky Derby is a great story, I'm still heartsick over Eight Belles. May she rest in peace in the great lush pastures of the sky.

Horse racing needs to do some deep soul searching. Information about this year's Kentucky Derby and the Eight Belles tragedy is available on NPR.

My First Meme - How Quirky Am I ?

Carleen over at the Pajama Gardener tagged me for my first meme.

Here are the rules:

Link the person who tagged you.

Mention the rules in your blog.

Tell about 6 unspectacular quirks of yours.

Tag 6 following bloggers by linking them.

Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger's blogs
letting them know they've been tagged

My problem is that most of my friends don’t blog so I’m just going to link to the one that does. So, Stehanie Feldstein you and your lovely pitbulls come on down.

My quirks :


I have a terrible sense of direction meaning I couldn’t find my way around a small paper bag. I am the last person in the world you would want to ask for directions to anywhere. I navigate around my home town almost solely by landmarks. Don’t ever ask me what street something is on because I probably couldn't tell you. Thank God for Map Quest and cars with GPS units .

I’ve been to Ghana, Nova Scotia and Ireland but I have never traveled to the Upper Peninsula of my home state of Michigan, which is pretty strange

I’m very picky about the kind of yellow pads and mechanical pencils I use to write my first drafts of fiction on. I didn’t use to be like this. The first draft chapter of Act of Grace was written on small post it notes because the story just felt too big and scary to write on larger sheets of paper. ( My sister says that writers are just so damn weird)

Nobody and I do mean nobody uses my large quilting scissors,especially the ones I use to cut fabric with. I have found that a lot of quilters are like this about their personal sewing equipment.

Like Carleen I too have to keep everything I use within eyesight, especially for the book I’m writing ,or any quilt I’m working on. It leads to piles of stuff on all my tables and my desk.

One of my favorite foods in the world is chocolate covered matzo. I don’t like to use salad size forks to eat with. I truly believe that okra is a disgusting, useless vegetable. An added extra bonus quirk - I leave the Television on to keep my dog Nyla company while I'm at work.( Yes I know it's wasteful but I worry that she gets lonely.)