There are so many reasons I feel grateful to have been longlisted for Discoveries earlier this year. I doubt there’s any other writing prize in the country that supports its longlisted writers quite as much. From providing 1-2-1 sessions with literary agents so we can hone our query emails, to presentations demystifying publishing contracts, nobody champions female writers quite like the Women’s Prize Trust.
On the first Monday of November, Discoveries alumni from the past five years congregated at Hachette UK’s Head Office for a day of connection, knowledge sharing, and inspirational talks. My personal highlight of the day was when judges Dorothy Koomson and Irenosen Okojie spoke to us about their individual journeys as writers. Both authors dropped some necessary truth bombs and I was grateful for their honesty. Being a part of the Discoveries community feels awesome – a positive bubble of encouragement and validation. However the flip side is that we aren’t quite prepared for the (inevitable) rejections – which are the only certainty in this line of work!
Dorothy articulated exactly how so many people of colour feel: that the discourse after BLM about amplifying Black voices can sometimes feel as if it was a performative act. It was sobering but backed up with real talk about how we need to be strong willed, keep independent publishing in mind and advocate for ourselves with dogged perseverance. Needing to work twice as hard as our white counterparts isn’t anything new to me, but the discussion was a good reminder that this industry is like any other: if the bottom line is profit then how can we work within those parameters? I came away with a strong sense that I need to be more resilient, prepare myself for knockbacks and to persevere regardless. Not because my story is weak, but because the gatekeepers of the next steps to publication are often seeking what they know best. If my characters aren’t middle class and white, then the truth is that my novel is far less likely to see the light of day through the traditional publishing route.
Irenosen spoke about the importance of mentorship and being part of a community of supportive writers. Staying curious while enjoying the process is key to a writing career, but nobody does this alone. I’m now prepared to be much more vocal in asking for help from someone I see as a mentor and will continue keeping the faith that there are lots of readers like me out there. People who enjoy stories that introduce them to new cultures or ways of living, and are excited by protagonists who live on the edges of society. I’m interested in both reading and writing about the inner worlds of people who ordinarily don’t have a voice, and I know I’m not alone in that.
I came away from the session feeling that although we have a fight ahead of us, it isn’t unwinnable. Writers of colour can help change the industry for the better, so future generations can see themselves in the pages of the books we write. Both authors talked about how it is a collective responsibility to uplift one another. I hope that by actively reading more female voices, in particular those from ethnic minority backgrounds, (helped by the fantastic Women’s Prize longlists) we will start to see change within the industry.
I feel incredibly lucky to be a part of this inspiring and diverse community of writers. As I look back on the day I’m so grateful for all the women at different stages in their careers who are supporting, empowering and uplifting one another. The writing journey is far less lonely because of them and my imposter syndrome is slowly being replaced by confidence. With the encouragement of the Women’s Prize Trust, so many more women like me – with an unreserved belief that our stories need to be told – are working towards sharing them with the world with increased clarity and determination. Bring it on.
Suman Sandhu is a British writer of Punjabi-Sikh heritage. Her debut novel Luxury Choices is a powerful multi-generational family saga exploring the immigrant experience, what it means to be second gen and the effects of inherited trauma. She lives in London with her husband, son and daughter.
