Being a writer in two countries
I thought I could be a writer in two countries. Published, giving readings, my whole career, in two countries. It didn’t seem so out of reach. It’s the same language. Many of my friends have published in the UK without ever stepping foot in the country, but I live here. I knew it would be hard work, but if there’s anything I’m known for, it’s my persistence.
But as I kept sending out my work, it kept being accepted by American literary magazines but not by British ones. My novels were bought by American presses, but not by British presses.
We got some feedback. When it came to Naamah, British editors said no one would be interested in a Bible story. When it came to Clean Air, British editors said there wasn’t much of a market for magical realism. They also said mediums hadn’t captured the British imagination as they had the American.
There’s nothing I could say back. They know their markets. They have to go pitch the book to a team of people who have their own ideas about the market. All of these people have to agree on an idea of the market, and then they make their choices from there. Sometimes I wonder how risky books get published at all.
I’m still hopeful because of the book club I joined in my small town. They’re the most incredible readers. They read so widely. We all go out to see movie adaptations together. We go on trips to see authors speak. We tackle silly reading challenges set by the local library. Overall, they’re passionate, joyful, and open readers. Maybe one day, the presses will understand that the market looks more like my book club. But who knows.
All I can do is write the books that I want to write. And the books that I want to write seem to come out distinctly American. Okay then. I had to adjust my mindset. Maybe I couldn’t cultivate a career in a new country while also maintaining a career in my old country. Maybe that was a lot to ask.
What I didn’t realize was how difficult it would be to maintain my career in the US. I didn’t want to realize it. I still don’t like to admit it to myself. But the truth of it came up and slapped me in the face this June.