The Laddership Solution: A Tale in Eight Lessons
Writers, generally, are reserved people, but there's a single word we can't stop fussing about: rejection. We all face it. Stephen King did. Same did the almighty Harry Potter. William Golding's Lord of the Flies was famously rejected eighteen times. Our beloved Purple Hibiscus isn't an exception. The list is endless, and we know them, because this knowledge inspires us.
What we don't often talk about, despite its significance in our quiet writerly lives, is resources, how difficult they are to come by, and how they could boost our chances of acceptance and make us better writers. Editors can be picky, subjectively so. There are always limited spots for so many brilliant pieces of work. Sometimes rejections come because the work isn't good enough, not always—as they love to put it—“not right for this magazine/issue”. Granted, some of us are not patient enough to grow with our stories. Some either do not know how to, or they dare not delve deeply enough into character psyche and stuff. But some of us do these things—at least, we try—yet when the mails come, there are the histrionic apologies followed obediently by unspecified reasons why our beloved stories can't be published “at the moment”.
We are beyond average writers (we should sometimes give ourselves that, right?), but maybe the problem is that we lack the resources to thrive. Things like:
information about the conventions of our chosen genre (most resources online can be too generic, and lack the affinity that comes with personal interactions)
literary platforms or support (services such as proper beta-reading, editing, criticism, even a small community of literature enthusiasts are both expensive and difficult to come by)
funds (some magazines ask for submission fees; for some, you are required to buy previous issues to have a feel of what they publish—how does a struggling African writer afford any of it?).
These were some of the concerns Suyi Davies Okungbowa, the Nigerian-born speculative fiction writer, identified that prompted the “Laddership solution”: the birth of the Literary Laddership for Emerging African Authors, of which I was a beneficiary. Here are eight insights I gained from Suyi Davies Okungbowa; guests Ukamaka Olisakwe, ’Pemi Aguda and Sussie Annie; and co-fellow Davina Philomena Nnassozi-Kawuma during the course of the fellowship:
1. A Career Goal Is Worth A Thousand Words:
I know what I hope to achieve with my work, but I have never really made a list of career goals. During my interactions at the fellowship, I learnt that, to build stronger motivations and get over with the “writer-existential questions” (eg. Why do I write? Am I passionate about it enough? Can I really tell the story, or I'm being moved by some random extrinsic force?, etc), I need to set up and interrogate career goals.
We discussed these in the first meeting with Suyi. Davina hoped to find a good editor. To clarify things, Suyi asked if she preferred having one while she writes or when she is done with the work. She chose the former, because she wouldn't want to waste her time, and would like to get feedback while she worked.
I would read accounts of writers finishing a whole manuscript only to thrash it because they were just testing the waters, or the work wasn't good enough, or it ended up no longer representative of their ever-evolving ideologies, or because someone read it eventually and identified major structural and character problems (see “A Journey of a Thousand Miles Begins with a Single Character”). Stories like these would both intrigue and scare me; intrigued at such a level of hardwork and perseverance, and scared because I could never do that: waste, say, a full year testing the water and whatnot. But I couldn't share my skepticism aloud because other upcoming writers, brimming with the “rules” of the craft acquired from masterclasses and online how-tos, would call my ideas “unwriterly”.
Proper planning and goal-drafting help you figure some of these things from the beginning. At this stage of my career, I think time is the most important resource at my disposal. I can't afford to waste any of it.
One of my goals is to create awareness for albinism, to push for stories featuring albinism in its raw realities, to possibly encourage others, albinos or not, to share stories they think no one will be interested in. Sometime ago, I was chatting with someone reportedly vast in ‘issues affecting albinism’ online; while he was armed with an array of critical albinistic discourses, such as the adoption of the more politically correct ‘people with albinism’ rather than the often derogatory ‘albino people’, he was completely unaware of the ritual killings of albinos in Malawi and Tanzania and Burundi. He needed proof, he said, and I forwarded links. After his week-long research (he probably had to roam the web himself, to find materials himself, because who knew if I'd just forwarded him articles written by my wailing self-victimised friends?), he returned, heartbroken, even sharing links I hadn't previously seen.
It was a pleasure to discuss these goals with like-minded people. One of the miracles with shared dreams is their transformation from bathroom fantasies to achievable goals.
2. Only The Tenacious Writer Sees The Light At The End Of The Tunnel:
Writing is not as glamourous as we think. Being a bestselling author is different from being a critically acclaimed one. It can be difficult to achieve either, and close to impossible to achieve both. Often, we encounter a critically acclaimed writer giving a TED talk, or autographing their book, or just posting IG stories in a spacious room of bookshelves and potted plants, and there we go, wondering when we would get there, or what the secret of their success is. There's no magic, I have learnt, just luck and a ton of hard work.
Some writers are lucky; their first books usher them into the limelight. For others, it's the second, third, or even tenth. You can't really tell unless you keep writing. We must never take writing as a hobby, or like a second job. We should get to know our (prospective) audience by studying previous works in our chosen genres to know what works and what doesn't, what is conventional and what isn't, and if need be, when and to what extent convention can be broken.
3. Too Many Characters Spoil The Broth:
During our second meeting, I went on and on about this new character in my story whose invasion altered the trajectory of the plot. While Suyi didn't think it was bad for one's work to stray off its original course, too many (planned or accidental) characters and narratives in a single book could lead to problems with plot, character engagement, and a host of other complications publishers avoid.
I loved creating lots of characters for my stories, too many complicated subplots, just because they seemed to make the story more intricate. In October, in a masterclass taught by the South African writer Zukiswa Wanner, my work was analysed. Zukiswa praised my deep understanding of the human psyche, but suggested I ‘take out’ some characters. They were necessary, she said, but only superficially; if I could really scrutinise them and I was willing to substitute relevance for aesthetics, I'd understand what she was saying. I understood, but I couldn't eliminate these people I'd painstakingly created and treated like nextdoor neighbours. The need to, however, became clearer at the Laddership.
Sometimes it could be two or more characters doing the same job, or one of them taking space, not contributing to plot at all, or it could be subplots smothering the story so much that the main storyline is lost. It could be too much description (is it too flowery? Is it relevant to plot or character development? Does it tend to slow things down too much?). Too much of everything is indeed bad.
4. A POV That Glitters Is Not Always Gold:
We were asked to come with writing challenges to the second meeting. Davina reported having issues with POV, and Suyi was happy to help. The first-person works if you want your story close and personal, if the narrator has been equipped with the tools to properly tell the story (you can't write a story supposedly narrated by someone else in your own voice!), if there aren't too many narrators (in case of more than one, they mustn't talk alike either, since they are different persons). There are limitations though: while in the head of a first-person character, it will be impossible to relay the thoughts of another character (the narrator cannot just get into anyone else's head) unless the omniscient POV is used.
There wasn't much dwelling on the second-person. We unanimously agreed it required much skill to accomplish (especially in a full-length work). The third-person, however, is easier to execute. You don't have to worry about how a narrator sounds—convincing or not—because the narrator is the author themself.
About choosing the best POV for a story, Suyi said, sometimes, it's intrinsic; other times, one has to manually work for it. You should train your creative ear and read your work aloud to see if the chosen POV is the right one for the particular story. Does it sound natural? Does it feel like something is missing? In some instances, writing a part of the story in different POVs helps.
5. Characters Don't Fall Far From The Tree:
I've come across a lot of writers who say they start the story and watch the characters take off. This only happens, they say, when you create three-dimensional characters. When flat characters are forced to drive a story forward, the story soon hits a dead end and stops evolving.
So when we were talking about characters in one of the meetings, I mentioned that I had a new character that had gone out of my control. This character was complicating the romantic arc around which the story revolved. Suyi acknowledged that complicated love stories had more depth and people could relate better to them, but was it that I couldn't really control this character, or their intrusion and the new developments would contribute to the story?
Was it literally possible I created a character named Odion and they decided, from the sixth chapter, that they wanted to be Emma instead? Or, was it that calling them Emma, instead of Odion, meant well for the story? Does it offer deep insight into character? Does it advance the plot? Does it shed light on the setting?
6. Let's Call A Label A Label:
We discussed labelling with Ukamaka Olisakwe, our first guest. Davina's first question was about the relevance and profitability of the novella in a market built for full-length novels. Ukamaka, as well as Suyi, didn't see her story being a novella as a problem. In this era of technology and resultant reduction of the human attention span, short-form writing was making significant waves.
My question also bordered on marketing identity. Last time, when Suyi suggested locating your audience through genre comparisons, I'd toured the internet, but I didn't find anything helpful, because I didn't know what exactly to look for. Reincarnation stories? Was that even a subgenre? Gay literature? Didn't that feel prejudicial, ignorant even, as literature in itself isn't a living organism with a sexual orientation? But then, what should it be called? Literature peopled by gays? Wasn't that a mouthful? Didn't it sound like vain propaganda for respectability politics?
I summarised my story to Ukamaka, with emphasis on its distinction from other works about queer people (at that moment, even the main character wasn't aware he was gay!). Ukamaka said to just write. Labels matter for marketing purposes (Suyi had explained this in the past when I expressed my disinterest in publishing) but sometimes, it wasn't for the author to decide. As the book was being prepared for publication, the publishers would figure these stuff out.
Publishing is business. Publishers look for manuscripts with market potentials, not necessarily the best or most intelligent. Would the industry’s primary audience pick, for example, a well-written book she isn't sure is romance or fantasy or historical fiction? Would she invest in a book whose genre is either obscure or undefined? Would she be interested in a book filled with a block of endless paragraphs and no breathing white spaces?
These are some of the things publishers consider before they decide to invest in a book. Writers mustn't limit themselves to market demands, of course, but they ought to understand how these things work. This way, they are better informed and make clever decisions on time.
7. A Journey Of A Thousand Miles Begins With A Single Character:
In the final meeting where we had ’Pemi Aguda and Sussie Annie, we were discussing second drafts. I'd always wondered, whenever writers talk about writing second drafts, if they mean totally discarding their first attempts and starting from scratch, or revising. And here's the shocker: it doesn't always mean deleting the first draft and starting afresh; well, unless the problems are draft problems. Draft problems include character believability, motive, consistency; narrative arcs; and whether or not the framework of the story is built around character actions and their consequences.
The story has to be so character-driven it will be difficult to separate plot from character. A good plot is one whose directions are determined by its characters. This happens when characters are well-rounded, made to have strong motives and motivations, and given flaws.
Revision problems, on the other hand, are problems that can be fixed without a complete rewrite. They include POV inconsistencies, description, dialogue, pacing, and narration.
8. The Pen Is Mightier Than MFAs:
Davina asked ’Pemi and Sussie to bust some myths about getting an MFA in Creative Writing. One, getting an MFA does not give you the license to be a writer, nor does it make you better qualified to write. There are a lot of writers who are doing well without MFAs. Among other personal considerations, MFAs are often mostly necessary if one wants to teach Creative Writing professionally, or require a like-minded community of writers with whom they want to work on their craft. On the con side, MFAs can provide literary support and a sense of community while you work on your manuscript. But if one already has all that in place, considering the expenses (scholarships are available in some cases), it is probably not the best idea.
MFAs are graduate programs, which means those with Bachelor's are eligible. But it doesn't have to be in English or Literature or in any related discipline for that matter. In fact, some institutions admit students without Bachelor's, as long as they are able to demonstrate talent and promise in their work. What matters is the sample one submits alongside their application, and the statement of purpose. Once the sample demonstrates talent and the statement of purpose is powerful and convincing, the chances increase.
Bonus: Biggest Takeaway
Good writing takes time. It's not the amount of time invested that matters, neither is it always the end result, but the fact that you're writing. A word today, a sentence tomorrow, a paragraph the day after tomorrow, a chapter in a month's time. Whatever. However. As long as you're writing, you're good.
The fellowship wasn't set up to pressurise anyone into completing their work in three months. Not once did Suyi request to see how much we'd achieved in terms of word count and stuff. Hey, how's it going? What chapter are you working on now? Tell us what you're gonna do tomorrow. Good job, good job.
Davina and I had one or two issues that delayed our work at some point, but Suyi created a friendly atmosphere where we talked about them, where he shared similar experiences and possible solutions.
That's it. Deadlines will never make me anxious anymore. I'll never push myself to the wall when I'm stuck in the middle. I'll take all the time in the world to work on my manuscript, and send it out only when I'm ready.
Nigeria, after all, wasn't built in a day!
If you're an emerging African author who is looking to take your writing to the next level—especially continental writers from underrepresented communities—we strongly encourage you to submit your work for consideration. See eligibility and application details below.