It was barely two years ago when author Kalisha Buckhanon and I were chilling here at the lodge discussing the future of the book business. It's a common talk amongst our tribe, as once the lavish and somewhat exclusive world of African American authors has quickly become a third world marketplace filled with hustlers of every kind. As printing up books will only cost you a few grand, anyone with even minimal grasp of the English language has been going for broke. This resulted in artists like myself being trapped between a corporate system that embraced us until there were easier games in town in terms of sales and a mass arena of competitors where the work I did had been all but swallowed by the flash flood of content hitting tables and shelves each week.
I thought this was a bad thing. But right about now I'm to see the error of my doubting ways.
There was something about getting my first royalty check for GOT, and making the decision that any real living as a writer that I'm going to make will now be centered in Hollywood that got me to thinking on a number of fronts. As an author, there were a lot of things that I could've have done for myself marketing-wise that I didn't. A lot of this had to do with the fact that I all I wanted to do was write. I could have done without the multi-hour staff meetings and the scheduling and making my own travel arrangements. I liked the four-star hotels and the predetermined itineraries. It didn't hit me until it was almost too late that what I hadn't managed to do was branding, making myself and my work into a commodity that the world at large wanted a piece of regardless of who was publishing me, etc.
It was in the rebuilding of my site and my participation in a number of unrelated activities that served as my moment on the road to Damascus, when the white light of the future of the creative marketplace became all too clear. Just as I hustled to get article assignments to keep a roof over my head, I'll have to do the same in keeping my work in the mix. Being an artist with plenty of artist friends, I have an arsenal of talent more than equipped to do the job. This understanding, and the hope that it brings for me to create a business that just might outlive my time on this planet, makes me smile.
When you're a real partner in something, where you see the efforts of your work result in a check with your name on it that wasn't written to keep you appeased, you why it's important to not sell out, to not hand over your creations to a machine that exists only to store them, like the artifacts in that Raiders of the Lost Ark warehouse, until such time that they'll be sold to the highest bidder. Fuck that.
But just because I'm determined doesn't make it any less scary. While I'm happy to be free of the passive aggressives that once controlled my future as an author, I'll now be up against a flooded field where few know how to expand the market share. We, however, have a better shot. So I'm gonna take it.
Last night, I stood with a godbrother of mine in a tiny kitchen. He told me a story about how he too was on the verge of throwing in his towel as a master thespian to become radiology technician. But just like me, whenever he tried to throw the switch, the hands reached out from the the other side and stopped him. When the road ahead seemed dry and desolate with no water or rescue in sight, he was told that he had to continue walking, just as I have been. That gave me a certain comfort that I can't describe. When you're surrounded by folks who live in other worlds, worlds that many of them believe are more difficult than yours, it's easy to let them get to you after awhile. It's just as easy for those that support you to see why you're so ready to throw the towel in.
The good thing about these decisions is that they'll keep me busy. I've got one novel to finish, an author's novel to edit, scripts to keep writing, and whatever job's I'll need to pay the bills, all packed into one life. And I'll manage, because I always do. Nightshift and Uptown Boys in 2009. Be ready ya'll! Out.
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