This is dedicated to the incomparable Wanda Coleman

 

Did you have a favorite teacher, either as a kid or an adult, that had major influence on you as a writer?

I never knew writing was a possibility for me until my 30’s, which is also when I started college. Let me explain.

Growing up in the inner city of Cleveland, Ohio, life wasn’t so much about dreams, well not the kinds of dreams that most people associate with growing up. We dreamed of having enough food, staying safe, and having a permanent home. But I loved books. Books were my safe space. I spent hours at the library in whatever neighborhood I was living. I didn’t know then but as I was reading all those stories and envisioning what it would be like to be any of those characters, I was training myself to write. And I was dreaming. I just didn’t have the words to express that yet.

As soon as I graduated high school, it was off to the Air Force, where I continued to read, but never even considered that I could be a writer. After my military career was over, I came home and was a little lost, a lot of sad, and for the first time had no one to tell me what I needed to be doing. So, one day, on a whim, I started writing. The result, a 600-plus-page book written straight from my heart without the benefit of anything even close to technique. I knew nothing, no formatting, no silly writing rules whatsoever, just straight story. That book eventually became my first three novels, Fat Chance, Chasing Navah, and Maria’s Song. I didn’t know it then, but I had written a whole trilogy in one beautiful, award-worthy masterpiece (I kid).

But the universe is weird. Around this same time, thanks to my military service, I got to college, where I met friends who became my writing group, the almighty, Literary Llamas. That was in 2005 or so, and we’re still rocking today. They, along with a lot of professors from Cleveland State University, taught me how to take my voice and all those words and turn them into an actual book. And for that I am eternally grateful.

But the moment that made me seriously consider that I could become an actual writer was meeting the incredible American poet, Wanda Coleman. She was a moderator during my very first writer’s conference, put on by Cleveland State University. She was like no one I had ever seen before. She was big, Black, bold, and did not hold her tongue. But she was kind in her honesty as she gave everyone their feedback.

 When my turn came, she looked around the table before looking me dead in the eye, and told us all. Some stories you can write for yourself and leave in a drawer, but not this one. This one needs to be written and shared with the world. I couldn’t believe she was talking about me and my story, Lily White.  She passed away November 22, 2013, but I still think of her words often.

Since then, I’ve gotten a lot of critiques, both negative and positive, but it was Wanda Coleman, American Poet, who made me believe that I could be a writer. One day Lily White will find its way into the world, whether traditionally or by my own hand. When it does, I already have the dedication.