publishing while Black
(the statistics, the allies, and why representation matters)
First the statistics because publishing while Black comes with daunting statistics. Black authors make up less than 6% of US authors. It is statistics like these that make Substack a decolonial space where Black writers can share their work, build communities, and also create initiatives to support Black writing through collectives like Blackstack.
Additionally, the majority of folks who work in publishing are overwhelmingly white as well (76%), so this means having our works pass through a filter that has not been trained to see value in our stories.
The journey to publishing UNRULY was also no easy feat, and though I did not expect any red carpet to be laid out for me, the worst insult was when an editor turned down my manuscript because it had already been done by "sculptor/performance artist Doreen Garner." For context, in the fall of 2017, Garner's two-person exhibition and performance art piece, titled White Man On A Pedestal interrogated the ways medicine has put men like J. Marion Sims, or as I call him, Father Butcher, on pedestals. In the "performance," violence is instead done to his body. A ritual of transference. Or a ceremony to return to sender. Even though our works are different mediums, carry different intentions, and hold vastly different stories, my work was labeled as not doing anything new, or rather they didn't "see how this collection breaks out." I couldn't reconcile this response while there are 50-11 movies of Spiderman and X-Men. Okay.
So, publishing while Black often means finding your allies as one navigates the arid terrain of publishing, and I want to share two women who have been instrumental.
First, there's my publisher Jodie Toohey of Legacy Book Press, LLC. By the time I met Jodie, my body of work had been spoken to in much the same way as my physical body when I was navigating health challenges. "I just don't know what to do for this." However, I knew that Jodie was a real one because instead of immediately asking me to sign a contract, she shared the name of a different publisher that focuses on books written by Black and Brown authors. She shared this just in case I wanted UNRULY to have literary cousins by being in the family of this literary house. However, when I reached out to them they didn't even look at my manuscript because they didn't work with poets. (My work is more narrative than a typical poetry book.) I was happy to work with Jodie just because of her integrity. Throughout the publishing process she has trusted my eye and requests because she respects my voice and the community I center, even if she is outside of that community.
Second, there's Danielle Hartman Acee from The Author's Assistant. By the time I reached out to Danielle I half expected to get back that "I don't know what to do with this" response I so often received. Nope, not at all. Danielle shared authors she has worked with before and asked if I'd like to see particular examples of past clients and results. She gave me assignments to prepare for working together, and the assignments were doable, so I had no reason to go into overwhelm or to hide. (Publishing has often made me feel like hiding.) She also shared ideas and audiences that UNRULY would be a match for. In her presence I got to relax into the knowing that Danielle is skilled in marketing and we worked together for UNRULY's Juneteenth sale. In one category alone, UNRULY went from over 100 in the rankings to #7. This was possible because Danielle was part of my team.
All of this is to say that publishing has been a journey of others questioning whether my work should exist. Growing up as a little Black girl has been a journey of others questioning whether my people should exist.
Support my debut book UNRULY, Legacy Book Press, LLC 2025
Antoinette, it has been an absolute pleasure. It is such a powerful body of work, and I am honored to have a front row seat to seeing it reach a wider audience. Onward and upward!