You Can Help make Sugar's 10th Anniversary - HISTORICAL

Dear Book Lover:

You may not know me or my novels, because I am a member of a growing band of African-American writers of literary fiction who are slowly disappearing. And not because I am lacking in talent and credentials; in fact I have already published a number of books with major publishing houses and have been reviewed by national newspapers and well-respected literary journals, and have received critical acclaim and awards for my efforts. My work has been hailed as vivid, thought provoking and brilliant. I have been compared to Toni Morrison, Alice Walker, Zora Neale Hurston and Gloria Naylor.

The fact that my novels may disappear is not due to the downward spiral of the economy or the pound of flesh it has taken from the book-publishing industry. No, my demise began long before the floor of the housing market began to rot away and the stock market crashed through.

Why?

I don't rightly know why publishers market fiction written by African-Americans ONLY TO African-Americans - but it has become common practice. And by doing this, they've placed all AA authors in one box forcing them to compete for the attention of ONE audience.

The word that has been coined to describe what is happening to AA writers is: Seg-Book-Gation

Segregation is an abominable practice no matter how you slice it - but when you apply it to art -- it becomes a sin. Art of any medium should transcend color, race, class, religion and ethnicity, but alas, that is not the case in the publishing world.

AA literary writers like myself are being pushed out of the industry all together as we are no longer able to secure book deals, because publisher claim that AA readers are only interested in buying books about sex, street-life and drugs. We know that this is not the case. We are a diverse people, interested in a variety of subjects.

On January 9th, 2010, my debut novel, SUGAR will celebrate its 10th anniversary. In order to commemorate this occasion It is my great hope that this moving story of friendship and acceptance will sell 10,000 copies between now and the anniversary date.

Please try your best to purchase from an independent bookstore. It was the independent bookstores that made SUGAR the instant success it was 10 years ago. But if you're unable to do so, then place your order with AALBC or Amazon.com

It is my dream that the surge in sales for this decade old novel, will send a message to the publishers that we readers desire ...crave and DEMAND a variety of literature from our AA writers because our stories are just as riveting, thought-provoking and universally appealing as the stories coming from our non-African-American counterparts.

Please purchase at least one copy of SUGAR for yourself, a friend or family member. Cut and paste this message into your email program and send it out to your list. Tweet, Blog, Facebook and Myspace it.... !!

Thanking you in advance for helping SUGAR make history!

P.S.

Send a picture of yourself purchasing a copy of SUGAR and I will post it on my blog: www.firstborngirl.blogspot.com
Send your photos to: bernicemcfadden@hotmail.com and please include your name and the name and location of the bookstore.

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A Year of Doubt...a story of Faith...

A little over a year ago I was sitting at my computer (as usual) working on what, I don't remember - when - I was suddenly stricken with a weird, pain on the left side of my head. I went to lay down and when I got up again I was completely off kilter. I would come to learn that I had vertigo.

Have you had it? I would not wish it on my worse enemy. Okay...maybe I would.

What followed the vertigo was the publishers decision not to renew my Geneva Holliday contract and the fact that my manuscript (Glorious) had been submitted to the who's who of editors and none were biting. Each rejection letter chipped a little bit of me away.

Okay.

That was all back in July. By September I was spinning in one spot, putting together proposals for shit I didn't even want to write. All of this as I shook my fist at the heavens and damned my guides for bringing me a story that know one seemed to want to ...buy.

I went to Jamaica and had a come to Jesus session. I stood at the waters edge and apologized to the universe and my guides. I had behaved shamefully. Like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum. I returned home and sat down to work on another draft of Glorious.

By November i was done and apparently so was the the list of editors my agent thought was best suited for the book. My doubt returned because the feedback seemed to suggest a general consensus where my career was concerned: My career needed to be resurrected (Resurrected!) and Glorious wasn't the book that would do that.

Imagine my surprise...I didn't even know my career had died. Did someone bury it and not invite me to the funeral?

(smile)

Moving forward -

The winter was suddenly upon me and with it came the short, dreary, cold days that are so typical of the season. I escaped again, this time to Barbados.

Ten days in the sun and surf can do wonders! I was reinvigorated and back at home I started on another book. While writing it I was hit with what seemed to be a avalanche of bad luck - this combined with the Vertigo and the havoc the market was wreaking on my portfolio - was not a great mix - nevertheless, I marched forward.

By May I'd completed the sixth and final draft of the new manuscript and it was ready to be shopped. I sent out twenty query letters and within a few days I'd received five "please send the entire ms" from agents. A good sign -- which meant I had basically nailed the query letter.

Since then two agents have come back to say that the book was not for them.

Why?

One said: The story is great, the writing solid -- but the AA literary reader market would not support the story.

Why it got to be supported by the AA literary reader market? It's not even AA literary story - It's an African story for chrissakes...

Someone else said the story moves too slow at the beginning. So? Did you read Life of Pi...that was fifty pages of *yawn* -- but then it exploded!

This business is soooooo subjective!

Anyway, it's still with three agents who have yet to come to a decision..

*No news is good news.*

Anyway - I still continued to look for a home for Glorious and in the midst of doing this - that and everything else - I had a dream about Zora Neale Hurston, which I took as an omen. Why wouldn't I when she was one of the "guides" who brought me GLORIOUS in the first place?

The dream encouraged me to remain committed to the book and I did...and I still do -but there are those days...you know the ones when you walk around with a stupid smile on your face even though you're screaming like a lunatic on the inside and the feeling of abandonment is like teh weight of a gorilla riding your back?

By the end of May I was mentally and emotionally exhausted and so the twenty-one days of rain that drenched most of June - was quite okay with me - I could use the less than optimal weather to
throw myself into the YA novel I had started late last year.

SIDEBAR: I ALWAYS TAKE A VACATION BETWEEN PROJECTS - BUT IT JUST WASN'T POSSIBLE THIS GO AROUND

And so I soon found out that I did not have the emotional or creative capabilities to write anything other than a post for this blog. I was crushed and the more upset I became the worse the vertigo got.

A small voice in my mind said: "It's okay - all will be well."

But I ignored it.

On June 26th - nearly a year to the day when my life turned topsy-turvey - I boarded a flight to Memphis (Murphy's Law Saga).

What happened in those 12 hours was a culmination of a year of what may have seemed like one pitfall after the other, but I now realize was just growing pains. Change is always good - but sometimes it smarts - *ouch!*

When I woke up on June 27th - my vertigo was gone. Poof - like magic! And what followed over the next few weeks was a rush of ideas that left me scratching my head and asking: Why in the world hadn't I thought of that before?

It was like a veil had been lifted and a door opened. The worry that kept me up at night was gone and now I slept well pass sun up. My anxiety had been replaced with a feeling of calm that was almost...scary.

Last week I spent some time in Sag Harbor. A change of scenery can alter your perspective on things. Who knew a pool full of chlorine water could offer up an idea, just as exciting and well rounded as what I usually received from sea water? Well it did! And I think ya'll are going to love it!

Now mind you, my situation (on paper) still hasn't changed - but I know that it's about to 'cause the universe didn't bring me this far to drop me.

This past weekend a book club member hugged me and as she did she asked God to continue to bless me -

And I have no doubt that he will.

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Slaves in the Family

I am a student of history, often wiling away days and weeks researching items that are of interest to me. I have been researching my paternal history for more than a decade now. Every now and again I unearth some new jewel which more than makes up for the years of bumping into the same six foot high, concrete wall that is common place in the search for AA ancestors.

There are many variations of McFadden - MacFadyn, McFadyn, McFaddin - and so one can be a McFadden on the 1890 census and then magically transform into a McFadyn on the 1900 census - depending who is doing the recording.

Anyway, it seems that most AA McFadden's are descendants from a clan of McFadden's in the Carolina's. I have never found one piece of evidence to link my family to that clan.

My great-grandfather, Isaac McFadden was born in Texas in in 1860. His death certificate states that his mother Lizzie was also born in Texas. The birthplace of his father, Mingo, is unknown.

There is an 1870 Census with a nine year old boy named Isaac McFadden. The census is for Beaumont Texas, a town practically owned by the wealthy cattle rancher, William Perry Herring McFaddin, who had come from Louisiana to Texas with his parents in 1823. He moved to the town of Beaumont in 1833.

Isaac's parents are listed as James and Milla, both born in Kentucky. But we know the inaccuracy of historical records. Especially where AA records are concerned. So Im going to finally give myself permission to believe that the little boy on that census is indeed my g-great grand daddy.

Anyway, there is quite a bit of documented history on WPH McFaddin and his offspring. In fact, the family mansion still stands and is a museum known as the McFaddin-Ward House.

During my research I stumbled on another Beaumont, Tx census that I found very interesting. Teh year is 1880 and it lists Martha McFaddin, as a 38 year old negro woman who was born in Arkansas. She is a laundress and the head of her household. Her status is single. She has five children:

Harriet McFaddin - age 17 - negro - born in Texas - father born in Louisiana (she is also a Laundress)

Eliza McFaddin - age 12 - negro - born in Texas - father born in Louisiana

Roxey McFaddin - age 10 - mulatto - born in Texas - father born in London

Bashaba McFaddin - age 8 - mulatto - born in Texas - father born in London

Dallas McFaddin - age 4 months - mulatto - born in Texas - father born in London

There are three black male boarders who work in the saw mill.

Interesting that the last three children retain the McFaddin name and not the name of their white father. And is it just me, or do you feel like Harriet was a kept woman in a fairly nice sized house?

What does Harriet have to do with my g-grandfather? I don't know yet, but I suspect that they are kin.

Back to WPH McFaddin - I found a picture of him ( I love the Internet!) and I immediately saw my father's face in his face - do you see it?

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Do You Boo...

In 11 days I will be sitting on a panel at the Harlem Book Fair entitled: Killing Me Softly - how publishing is killing the black book market.

It's no secret that we will be discussing the fact that publishers are blatantly ignoring AA authors whose novels do not fall under the street, urban or erotica lit umbrellas.

(Know one ever told me life was fair.)

*shrugging shoulders*

I'm sure that on July 18th the discussion will be a passionate one complete with finger wagging, finger pointing, slander slinging and wailing - and that's just from the audience! LOL

*sigh*

Some of these urban lit authors think that we literary authors are "hating" on them. Maybe some of us are. But what I think most of us are calling for is BALANCE - an equal share of the marketing dollars and shelf space.

*hands thrown up in the air*

Let's keep in mind that one genre could not exist without the other. It would be like trying to grow a flower without a seed.

There would be no R&B, Hip-Hop and Pop, if not for Gospel & Soul.

Get it?

Nevertheless, aspiring urban, street and erotica authors - remain encouraged, and don't take our rants personally. It's not you we're upset with, its the industry and it's practices.

So, Do you boo and don't let anybody deter you from reaching your manifest destiny. I know I'm not going to let anybody deter me from reaching mine.

*peace sign*

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How Did I Become The Wicked Witch of the West?

As the wicked witch of the west once cried:

"Aaaah, you cursed brat! Look what you have done! I'm melting...melting...melting...!"

I am a member of a growing band of African-American writers of literary fiction who are slowly disappearing. And not because we are lacking in talent and credentials; in fact we have already published a number of books with major publishing houses and have been reviewed by national newspapers and well-respected literary journals, and have received critical acclaim and awards for our efforts. Our work has been hailed as vivid, thought provoking and brilliant. We have been compared to Morrison, Walker, Hurston and Twain.

That we are disappearing is not due to the downward spiral of the economy or the pound of flesh it has taken from the book-publishing industry. No, our demise began long before the floor of the housing market began to rot away and the stock market crashed through.

Why? I don't rightly know why Publishers over-look quality works of fiction written by people of color and prefer instead to acquire and publish novels that glorify long-standing cultural stereotypes.

Does that make publishing the last strong hold of the racial divide? The cursed brats?

If AA literary novels were sold across the color line and as a result got some of dat Arab money...I mean non-black dollars - would that be the same as taking possession of publishing's ruby slippers?

Why dey do us like dis, huh?

On July 18th at 12PM at the Harlem Book Fair, myself, authors Margaret Johnson-Hodge and Gloria Mallette will be deliberating this matter on the panel entitled: Killing Me Softly - How Publisher's Are Killing The Black Reader Market - moderated by author and educator, Elizabeth Nunez.

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4 drafts and 73 Rejection letters ago..
originally posted: May 3, 2009

....I was thinking about self-publishing my novel SUGAR. I'd given myself until my birthday and if I hadn't sold it, I was going to publish it myself. That was ten years ago and here I am having the same exact thoughts again about my novel Glorious. And so I'm going to give it till September and then self publish. What else can I do after four years and seven drafts? Let it sit forgotten at the bottom of my dusty desk drawer? I don't think so! (hand up in the air and head spinning on neck)

Yesterday, I spent the latter part of the day strolling down memory lane. I re-read my journal and found that I have been complaining about the same things for ten years! I came across an email from an old boyfriend that I'd printed out and stapled to one of the pages in my journal. It was a poem about love -- yesterday was the first time that I noticed that the email was originally sent to his attention and he had added some of his own sweet sentiments and then forwarded it on to me. I don't know why I never noticed that - blinded by love I guess. Anyway, he's now married to that woman who'd poured her heart out to him in poetry. C'est la vie, right?

While I was digging through my past (which by the way is kept in a blue plastic bin) I stumbled across four different versions of SUGAR.

The original, a 17 page short story.
Opening line: "I was crying again today. I know it's silly 'cause my husband tells me so. But even though its been 10 years I can still feel the pain of loss." (*cringing*)

Version 2, 192 pages.
Opening Lines: "The winter was something unlike anything the residence of Toshtown had ever see. Monday through Wednesday, sometimes Thursday, the temperature drop way below freezing and suddenly sky rocket into the 80's" (Pretty bad, huh?)

Version 3, 220 pages.
Opening Lines: "In a place where cotton once grew for as far as the eye could see, mother's who did not speak the same language as the white men that whipped and spit on them, looked up at the sun and wondered how it could shine so brightly and still allow this thing called cold to chill their bones..." (getting a little better - but still no cigar!)

Version 4, 290 pages:
Opening lines: "Jude was dead. On a day when the air held a promise of summer and people laughed aloud, putting aside for a brief moment their condition, color and where they ranked among humanity..."

The final version was sold ten years ago this month. But before it was sold, I received 73 rejections. Yeah, 73, I counted the letters this morning.

Even with all of the blah going in my personal and professional life, I woke up feeling GOOD, thankful, positive and encouraged. Things get better, dreams come true, doors close and windows open....

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