Signing and Sinning

A question I’m often asked by readers, young writers and perplexed older Nigerian relatives alike is “what exactly does your average day look like, as a writer?”. Well friends, the truth is, it involves existential anguish, brief flits of inspiration, staring at a blank document and approximately thirty five open tabs*. These include but are not limited to: The Outnet, flights to Mexico, a Doreen St Felix article (to make me smarter), a tinydesk and a house-tour of some bohemian Black couple in Brooklyn which will remind me that I still haven’t bought curtains for my living room despite renovating my house over a year ago. Also, a tab open on curtains. Anyway, you can imagine how excited I get when I actually have the opportunity to leave my hovel of half-drunk cups tea and cans of Coke Zero to go to my publisher’s office comprised of glass and steel and Leon boxes! It’s contextualises the labour, and wearing a bra and my nice little kitten heels and doing a little commute reminds me that this is a very real job.

Forgive me if you’re already au fait with the process, but once the final post-edit draft of the book is handed in (and when I say edits, I mean, narrative, structural and copy, a process that can take up two-four months), then comes the pre-publication period. Early copies are sent to journalists, authors and book bloggers whilst you wait to see if they will read it/like it, and hopefully share that they like it. It’s a process that honestly, is excruciating. You’re giving these kind people homework. You know everyone is extraordinarily busy, and yet, you are asking them to use their precious time to read your book and give a verdict whilst you stave off a descent into anxiety induced mania. I am completely humbled and grateful to everyone who does this, it truly means the world, and I do not take it for granted. In the mean time, I have staved off anxiety induced mania by disassociating and having the kind of serene outlook maybe matched by a suburban North Carolinian wealthy white woman on Lorazepam. I am not on Lorazepam, however, I’m running on matcha, the knowledge that I did my best so if everyone hates it they are simply wrong, and, unrelatedly, delusion.

Whilst this is going on, the author has interim work to do. You may, for example, write a letter to the vanguards of literacy- booksellers, talking about your book and the craft of writing it, the process. On the surface, a book is a book, and I think people often connect more when they understand when/why/how it came about and the context of which it came from- the coconut tree, so to speak. Booksellers are crucial in the infrastructure of publishing. They ensure a book reaches the right audience, they are champions of the craft, and connecting a book to the right hands is an art in and of itself. It involves an intuitiveness, psychology, and a vast understanding of literature to say, “ah, I have just the thing for you” or even a “I know you like this, but why don’t you try this? Discover something new, grow. You may surprise yourself.” Booksellers are a great way to reach your audience.

Another great way, is book signing. Which is what I did last week. Armed with a blueberry matcha, and my editor and publicist to unleash all my yapping to (we talked about wedding planning, WHITE LOTUS and Hugh Jackmans’s affair) I signed 2000, of what are rather wonderfully called “tip-ins”, the title page of the book that is to be “tipped in” to the novel as a whole. Particularly fun to say when you’re a romance author. Anyway, 1000 of those are going to a book shop in Nigeria which is particularly important to me! Signed copies, are me reaching out to readers, saying, “hey, I’m risking carpel tunnel to let you know that I care about this reaching you”, to say thank you for their support and patience, to say “you reading this makes it all worth it.” Here is photographic proof that I did this:

Oh! I also got to see what the actual cover of SWEET HEAT would look like. Isn’t she glorious? So much thought goes into colours, the type, the feel of the cover- to make it feel like an experience, complementing the texture and atmosphere of the book- and it’s surreal to see it manifested. To be honest it’s actually surreal that I wrote a book. Every time I finish writing a book I’m quite awed by the fact that I finished writing a book. I’m not the kind of author who brushes the endeavour away. What’s the valour in that? It’s hard! And glorious! And painstaking! And magical! It’s obsessive, careful, loving work, and finishing it is a triumph.

The shirt was thrifted from a stall from Portobello Road. It’s fun when I get to say what non-Londoners think Londoners say.

This week, I also had the pleasure of going to the European premiere of SINNERS. I will perhaps, say more when it’s released, and don’t worry- there are no spoilers here- but I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you that it is truly the most stunning film I have experienced- not seen, experienced- in a long time. A whole body experience. Ryan Coogler’s brainchild is visually beautiful, sumptuous even when chilling, but the storytelling is gorgeously unfurled- at turns a Western, a Southern gothic, hinting at a crime caper and a searing love story. There’s music, there’s humour, there’s warmth, there’s even afrofuturism. Horror almost seems a reductive way to frame it- although it does embrace classic vampire lore. However, even if you’re squeamish like me, the jump-scares almost seem like a byproduct of a gorgeous, heartbreaking tale, that still deftly manages to be hopeful, still maintains a light within the darkness of a post Jim Crow America- indeed in today’s world. It’s a film that professes: there are things that they cannot take from you, no matter how hard they try. I promise, if I can handle it, so can you.

And the cast! Of course, my ex Michael B. Jordan ** did a stellar job portraying gangster twins Smoke and Stack, respectively menacing, playful, prowling, ambitious, cautious and impetuous with barbed, large soft hearts that have the capacity to care deeply. But my goodness, my country-woman Wunmi Mosaku with her stirring wisdom, steely softness and sensuality? Also Hailee Steinfeld, forgive me girl, I wasn’t familiar with your literal game. Sharp-tongued, sexy and vulnerable. Uncle Delroy Lindo was excellent, and newcomer Miles Caton is a revelation, the breakout star of the film. Ryan Coogler has truly crafted something brilliant, but he was quick to remind us during the introduction of the film, that his vision was buttressed and finessed by his producers, Sev Ohanihan and notably, Zinzi Coogler who he always referred to, in the context of the film, as his producing partner, not his wife. This stuck with me. He deferred to her expertise and her knowledge without the need to contextualise it within her relation to him. Yet, the affection was present without self-insertion- the never leaving the stage without her hand in his, carefully, gently, removing a fallen lock of hair as she answered a question during an interview. Let me be clear: I don’t know these people, but I can, like all of us, surmise from outward demonstration. It just seemed to me, to be so quietly tender, so lovely. I am always actively searching for the romance in reality and that’s part of what it is, I think; ceding space but being present.

Speaking of romance in reality, stay tuned, because after deep talks with my team I have got the all clear to share a little snippet of SWEET HEAT with you all before anyone else as a token for my undying appreciation and adoration. Keep an eye out in the next couple of weeks for it.

Juicy Bits

I am currently watching RIVALS on Disney, the black comedy period romp based on the Jilly Cooper novel. It’s sexy, silly, camp, melodramatic, dark, delightfully British, with a well done eighties flare. What I particularly enjoy is that whilst it has fun playing in the eighties, it doesn’t do what a lot of period shows fall victim to, which is evade the darkness of the period in order to maintain lightness. It addresses the sexism, racism, classism and homophobia of the period, without being didactic or making excuses for it. It says, “sure we have a glamorous, black female character who runs shit, but we aren’t going to pretend it was easy for her. We also aren’t going to let that be the sum of her character”.It says, “This is how it was, and no, it wasn’t right, but we aren’t going to run away from it either”. All whilst people are shagging in the bathrooms of concords and getting eaten out on their desks, etc. It can be done!

• I’m obsessed with the Peckham Pimps and will watch every single video of them. In fact, I may get them to perform at my wedding.

• *I can go more in depth into my writing process if you have specific questions!

• ** I went to the SINNERS afterparty and my fiancé, who is well versed in my lore (because I told him all of it on our first date), quipped, ‘Is it awkward, for you? Me being in the same room as your ex, I mean?’. I replied that we are all grown ups, and I’ve clearly moved on even though he might not have. Poor Michael was so overtaken with emotion, he couldn’t even bear to look my way. Probably overwhelmed by how good I looked. He’ll be okay.

Lots of love and speak soon,

B x