By Silas Nyanchwani
It is usually the wish of every new writer to be famous as soon as his or her first book hits the streets. They yearn to have the ability to stimulate intellectual debate among scholars, as well as keep the critics busy and the ordinary man marvelling at their sheer ability to turn a phrase and tell a good story.
Clearly, the immediate challenge many writers are faced with is a diminishing reading audience. Beyond the not-so-voluntary readership in high school or university, it is hard to identify the critical mass that can read a novel on say, a modern-day technology-oriented crime thriller about the rampant ATM fraud cases. After all, a good business journalist long covered that.
In the past, censorship, jail and exile had the inadvertent effect of raising the profiles of writers. Ngugi wa Thiong’o, Chinua Achebe, Wole Soyinka, Alex La Guma and Micere Mugo are some of the writers whose works sent them to jail or exile.
Of course, they were good writers and already well known, but their outspokenness or opposition to oppressive regimes through their literary works ensured that they gained national and global fame. Think of Ken Saro-Wiwa.
Had the governments ignored them, I wonder how they would have turned out, for there are many writers who were great but forgettable since they kept it local and chose to go to bed with the regimes. Cameroon’s Ferdinand Oyono comes to mind.
Look at how the Education ministry ban has all of a sudden raised the profile of the play, Shackles of Doom.
Freedom of expression
In the past, jail or exile was an instant way to fame or gaining the requisite notoriety that made writers famous. Not that they wished it upon themselves. It was the result of their conviction and the regimes’ thinking that their works had pernicious effects on the rest of the citizens.
Sometimes, the authorities were overly paranoid, for when we read some books in retrospect, we wonder how they would have spurred a revolution. That aside, at least they stood up for something.
Many young writers are still struggling to gain the audience, fame and occasional award that will validate their book. They want something that can give them credibility, something that will have even the most rigid Literature professor pay some attention to their creative effort.
But it is not easy. Great books normally have that ‘X factor’ that more often than not converts them into a huge phenomenon, almost accidentally. I bet their authors, while writing them, have no idea these books will turn out great.
Currently, there is enough freedom of expression, and the noise against bad government practices has been snatched from writers and handed to the civil society and the odd journalist.
Therefore, a writer who sets out like the old greats has to go through a long, circuitous and torturous road of loneliness, rejection from publishers and even book reviewers before making it. Only a few who are exceptionally excellent have a big break with their first work. But even so, they need the benevolence of a good publisher (usually not a local one) and caring media to raise their profile.
Testing ground
Unlike in the past, when the reading audience was somewhat stratified and critical thinking was found in the universities, presently there are no specific book readers. In the past, university students were the best testing ground for writers as professors and students cogitated on the issues the writers sold. Nowadays, a university student is only interested in Google, photocopied class notes, a playstation and some intellectually-devoid Hollywood movie series.
I remember as a freshman, some six years ago, we were given the group task of reading Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart for a Communication assignment. Few students attempted to even read the first chapter, saying the book was too slow. How ironic.
Creating a market
A new writer somewhere in Kakamega has the intimidating task of garnering readership, other than being published. In a continent where appreciation of arts oscillates between low appreciation and non-appreciation, it is little wonder that our best talents are recommended to us through Oprah (consider Binyavanga) or are giving talks at TED (Technology, Entertainment, Design), like Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.
I dare say that their primary audience is not African. Their routine talks locally happen in exclusive hotels. To prove this, check the venues of their conferences and ask if a young man or woman from Korogocho who has literary ambitions has a chance of ever attending them.
So, any young writer has the task of creating his or her own market. With no censorship, jail or exile, there is no guaranteed way to fame. Notoriety can gain one some readership, like, say Miguna Miguna or Salman Rushdie. But it does not always work, and you must have a certain amount of clout to generate some controversy. That means there is only one way left to get the numbers: Excellence.
Excellence sells.
