Hi Leanne, I sometimes write about disability. I have adult twins with complex disabilities since birth. One of them doesn’t have language. I always imagine what she might say. So I have considered some of the things that you write about. And I want to learn more more and more.
I shared your post and it seemed like many people are interested in your efforts.
I haven't finished reading this yet, but do have strong opinions as a writer of color. I like what I'm reading, and I do agree with that M.G.'s quote. I think it's good you got talked off that ledge.
White writers getting color wrong is similar to when men write women poorly--it's just so obvious when it happens, and filled with tropes . . .
And yeah, representation still isn't happening enough. But that's not a you problem. That's a gatekeeper problem, especially on the literary side with its narrow gateway where many white editors are making choices, leaving a lot of folks of color out, forcing them into becoming genre writers where they can write more freely about their color . . .
I like this piece--really shows the grit with which you care for the cultures you write about. Thing about Chico and the Man--a lot of brown people loved that show. Isn't like medical procedurals gets their stuff right. Or birds--should hear me rattle on about birds in novels or TV shows. But I hear you. Getting culture wrong when those writers could have got it right. That's a hard pill to swallow. But that's the problem with assimilation. Means the white screenwriters were in charge for the longest time. Still are at times. Either way, didn't stop me from having a Chico and the Man scene in my novel AMERICAN FADE, where the character Érick (based on one of my uncles) is pondering a scene while watching the show, and also thinking about his murdered brother Renzo, because Érick gets something that goes beyond the show, into the very actor himself . . .
He watched Chico slam a truck hood, the man not listening to him. “Didn’t I tell you?” Chico said. Always that Didn’t I tell you? That old man never listening. Everyone trying to get the barrio moving again, and the man saying like some asshole, “Why don’t you move it south of the border?” Érick laughed at that racist bullshit, that old man never using his ears, but warming up to Chico, slowly, so slowly over each season. Such funny motherfuckers, and that irony of it all, reminding him of Renzo dying on that loveseat, because that actor who played Chico had been killed by the man, the man being some psychiatrist overprescribing medications, and so when Freddie Prinze’s wife left him and he’d just taped his final-episode-of-all-fucking-time episode, he put a gun to his head and ended it right there. That pendejo was always playing with guns, Érick read somewhere. Just another torn, misfit, displaced half-Latino, probably like some of the kids in the Torres family trying to make sense of the mix of whiteness and brownness.
Wow, Nick. That makes sense to me that a lot of brown people loved the show but that a lot didn’t. The representation wasn’t great, but it was some kind of representation, I suppose, and before I researched this piece, I had no clue there were people who didn’t like it. I loved the show, and I’ve been haunted by Prinze’s death. This is such a good scene you’ve written. We seem to think about a lot of the same things, and I love how it shows up in both of our writing but from our individual perspectives.
Many gems to digest in this article shared with an abundance of conscientious honesty. Thank you. As a white, older, male writer the burden of responsibility to our characters and our readers must exceed my own sense of being within the written work. To be humble enough to learn, open enough to accept criticism, and brave enough to write your truth are the bones of being, and the ethos of writing.
I wrote a short story about a black South African quantum scientist but it was set in the future where culture would have changed... I think it’s important to recognise humans aren’t defined by skin colour or even by culture.
I will definitely make sure to do my research but I struggle to know where to find people who will help me get sensitivity right. Id like to write about an aboriginal character but that’s even more tricky.
I just completed my second, unpublished novel about a biracial orphan girl. Your essay inspired and influenced my approach to writing this story, which has now been named a finalist in the ACFW Short Novel category. Thank you for your guidance!
As a mixed person who looks SUPER white unless you stare real hard, I’m so sick of people trying to dictate what authors of *perceived* skin tones can and cannot write. My level of melanin does not establish my life experience. My family—being mixed not only by birth but also by marriage—has confronted far more racism than most of what I see slapped up in Threads/X/etc. I’m so glad someone spoke up to help you ignore the “you can’t write this” mentality that is, tbh, way more damaging than helpful to society.
I mention in this essay, which is about writing outside our own experiences, that I didn't grow up immersed in the experiences of people of color or other cultures. I did, however, grow up in a patriarchy, immersed in a male-dominated society, working in a male-dominated profession, and surrounded by men--fathers, brothers, husbands, boyfriends, friends, teachers, employers, co-workers. I grew up reading male authors. As I said to NYT best-selling author Tod Goldberg when he complimented me and told me I write men well, "Well, I knew a guy or two."
Every word of this essay is a guide to aspects of writing that I’ve never even thought about.
Thank you so much. I’m gonna come back to this and check your references.
You are doing beautiful powerful conscious work with your writing. I feel it thank you.
Thank you so much, Prajna. It’s an ongoing, lifelong process. I hope it helps.
Hi Leanne, I sometimes write about disability. I have adult twins with complex disabilities since birth. One of them doesn’t have language. I always imagine what she might say. So I have considered some of the things that you write about. And I want to learn more more and more.
I shared your post and it seemed like many people are interested in your efforts.
I haven't finished reading this yet, but do have strong opinions as a writer of color. I like what I'm reading, and I do agree with that M.G.'s quote. I think it's good you got talked off that ledge.
White writers getting color wrong is similar to when men write women poorly--it's just so obvious when it happens, and filled with tropes . . .
And yeah, representation still isn't happening enough. But that's not a you problem. That's a gatekeeper problem, especially on the literary side with its narrow gateway where many white editors are making choices, leaving a lot of folks of color out, forcing them into becoming genre writers where they can write more freely about their color . . .
Looking forward to reading the rest!
Thank you for reading and for your feedback, Nick. ♥️
I like this piece--really shows the grit with which you care for the cultures you write about. Thing about Chico and the Man--a lot of brown people loved that show. Isn't like medical procedurals gets their stuff right. Or birds--should hear me rattle on about birds in novels or TV shows. But I hear you. Getting culture wrong when those writers could have got it right. That's a hard pill to swallow. But that's the problem with assimilation. Means the white screenwriters were in charge for the longest time. Still are at times. Either way, didn't stop me from having a Chico and the Man scene in my novel AMERICAN FADE, where the character Érick (based on one of my uncles) is pondering a scene while watching the show, and also thinking about his murdered brother Renzo, because Érick gets something that goes beyond the show, into the very actor himself . . .
He watched Chico slam a truck hood, the man not listening to him. “Didn’t I tell you?” Chico said. Always that Didn’t I tell you? That old man never listening. Everyone trying to get the barrio moving again, and the man saying like some asshole, “Why don’t you move it south of the border?” Érick laughed at that racist bullshit, that old man never using his ears, but warming up to Chico, slowly, so slowly over each season. Such funny motherfuckers, and that irony of it all, reminding him of Renzo dying on that loveseat, because that actor who played Chico had been killed by the man, the man being some psychiatrist overprescribing medications, and so when Freddie Prinze’s wife left him and he’d just taped his final-episode-of-all-fucking-time episode, he put a gun to his head and ended it right there. That pendejo was always playing with guns, Érick read somewhere. Just another torn, misfit, displaced half-Latino, probably like some of the kids in the Torres family trying to make sense of the mix of whiteness and brownness.
Wow, Nick. That makes sense to me that a lot of brown people loved the show but that a lot didn’t. The representation wasn’t great, but it was some kind of representation, I suppose, and before I researched this piece, I had no clue there were people who didn’t like it. I loved the show, and I’ve been haunted by Prinze’s death. This is such a good scene you’ve written. We seem to think about a lot of the same things, and I love how it shows up in both of our writing but from our individual perspectives.
All the more reason why I'm looking forward to your forthcoming book.
Incredibly thoughtful and insightful essay, Leanne! I’ve bookmarked to share with writing clients.
Thank you, Heather.
Truly insightful, Leanne. I love that you're sharing your experience on this important topic.
Thank you for reading, Wendy.
Many gems to digest in this article shared with an abundance of conscientious honesty. Thank you. As a white, older, male writer the burden of responsibility to our characters and our readers must exceed my own sense of being within the written work. To be humble enough to learn, open enough to accept criticism, and brave enough to write your truth are the bones of being, and the ethos of writing.
Thank you for sharing, Kevin.
I wrote a short story about a black South African quantum scientist but it was set in the future where culture would have changed... I think it’s important to recognise humans aren’t defined by skin colour or even by culture.
I will definitely make sure to do my research but I struggle to know where to find people who will help me get sensitivity right. Id like to write about an aboriginal character but that’s even more tricky.
I love to recognise all cultures
I like your comment about sensivity readers. They are an important part of the work. Try https://thespunyarn.com/ and for resources try https://writingtheother.com/. I also recommend book coach Karen Parker https://www.karenaparker.com/.
Thank you very much!
I just completed my second, unpublished novel about a biracial orphan girl. Your essay inspired and influenced my approach to writing this story, which has now been named a finalist in the ACFW Short Novel category. Thank you for your guidance!
I'm so glad you found it helpful, Linda. Thank you for reading.
As a mixed person who looks SUPER white unless you stare real hard, I’m so sick of people trying to dictate what authors of *perceived* skin tones can and cannot write. My level of melanin does not establish my life experience. My family—being mixed not only by birth but also by marriage—has confronted far more racism than most of what I see slapped up in Threads/X/etc. I’m so glad someone spoke up to help you ignore the “you can’t write this” mentality that is, tbh, way more damaging than helpful to society.
Thank you for sharing this, Nikki. You are so right—we never know what another human being has experienced in their lifetime.
Do you have men in your stories? What makes you think you can capture the male experience?
I mention in this essay, which is about writing outside our own experiences, that I didn't grow up immersed in the experiences of people of color or other cultures. I did, however, grow up in a patriarchy, immersed in a male-dominated society, working in a male-dominated profession, and surrounded by men--fathers, brothers, husbands, boyfriends, friends, teachers, employers, co-workers. I grew up reading male authors. As I said to NYT best-selling author Tod Goldberg when he complimented me and told me I write men well, "Well, I knew a guy or two."
It’s not that hard to make friends from people of different backgrounds though in this day and age!
I agree, but that's a different topic and isn't my point. Thank you.