beware of white-washing your fictional experience

Every other Monday, The New York Public Library hosts a series called "Mid-Sentence", where various authors come together with other authors to talk about their work, their lives, and what inspires them. The last one for the year, held on December 11th, was one called "Fantastic Fictions" and was a discussion between N. K. Jemisin, a speculative fiction writer, S. A. Chakraborty who just published her debut novel, City of Brass, and Victor Lavalle, author of The Changeling.



Since all of these authors live within the world of speculative fiction, science fiction, and fantasy, I wasn't sure what to expect from an evening of listening to them converse. Personally, I'm not normally a huge fan of science fiction or fantasy novels, but I wanted to attend the talk to step out of my comfort zone, to learn more about a type of genre that I don't normally gravitate towards.

Victor Lavelle was an excellent moderator, turning the conversation right towards what inspired the writers to create the worlds that they had, and then eventually, towards race in fiction - particularly the race of the author doing the writing.

N. K. Jemisin, talked about that while growing up, she loved reading science fiction, but she never came across main characters who looked like her or authors who looked like her. And she rarely ever came across a strong female lead. Talk about a double whammy.

I'm not naive enough to think that diverse voices in fiction are unimportant, but they are even more important than I had previously realized. Until this talk, I never thought that a person's race could be translated into a genre like fantasy or science fiction. But it does. I'm rarely ever conscious of the author's name and race when picking up my next read, and because of this, I might be in danger of completely whitewashing my fictional experience.

A few weeks ago, I blogged about Americanah by Chimamanda Adichie, a Nigerian author who is able to write about the immigrant experience and what being black in America means to someone like her. Prior to reading this book, I didn't realize how being black in America and being black in Nigeria were two entirely different things. And how could I? I've never been black anywhere. Yes the book is a work of fiction, but it is also filled with truth, as all fiction is in one way or another.


Which is why I urge readers to look outside their comfort zones, to actively seek out diverse writers, writers who are Asian, African, South American, Jewish, Muslim, lesbian, transgender, and a whole host of other variations in order to find bits of truth in works of fiction. Bits of truth which you would never find in a book by a white author.

Cheers,
Katie

Comments