Happy NEW Year!!

It's been an exhausting, eventful, educational, productive, AMAZING year. I'm looking forward to more of the same in 2014. Thank you so much for your encouragement and support. God bless your new year and beyond!!

The Danger of the "I Worked to Get Where I Am" Narrative

The next time I hear a celeb has passed out "due to exhaustion," I won't be so quick to cock a skeptical eyebrow. 

The past few months have been incredibly busy for me. Meeting copywriting and article deadlines into the night (and morning) during the weeks, zipping to different cities and states on the weekends shilling the book, and emailing countless pitches in between. Add appearances, fellowship and residency applications, and research for book number 3.

Last week, my body exacted payment for all this work.

Very dramatically, I collapsed. Blacked out and bumped my head. When I came to, like a movie, faces hovered over mine asking if I was okay.

I was rushed to the ER, strapped to an orange chair with wheels, rolled into the ambulance van, and given a battery of tests. The $5,000 prognosis? I was tired. Oh, and I need to drink more water.

I've spent the past few days doing major reassessment. I've always prided myself on "doing the work," and I've always believed the "I worked to get where I am" narrative. But I've come to realize that working yourself into the ground does not lead to success.

Work implies control. But the truth is, success is a confluence of so many factors, besides the work you put, in that are completely outside your control.

It's been tough for me to accept this. But I have to. I have bumped against this lesson my whole life, and particularly in the last year and a half as I've driven myself at dizzying speeds to get where I want to go faster. ("Faster," twin to "impatience," is my problem.) It's time to learn this lesson once and for all.

I'm working on it. Slowly.

DC, Matteson, Chicago, Detroit, Nairobi

the inn I stayed at in South Holland, Illinois

Back in June, I embarked on a "bookstore tour" of sorts with the goal of getting the word out about Powder Necklace in key markets. I'd been studying my sales and noted that my performance was best in the cities I'd actually been to so I found lists of African-America, African and Independent bookstores across the country and started pitching signings at their stores. 

Since I'm paying for these trips, I was focused on making these trips cost effective. I have a phobia of printed bedspreads, for example, but I decided to put away my princess tendencies and deal with a little pea for the cause. 

My first stop was DC which didn't require me to make any comfort sacrifice. My good friend has a spot  in the heart of Foggy Bottom right near the Whole Foods and she let me crash on her couch. 

Then there was Matteson, Illinois. I didn't know anyone in the area that I felt comfortable bunking with so I booked the cheapest hotel I could find online. I figured it was so cheap ($39/night) because they weren't inflating for cost of living. There was a printed bedspread in the photos, but I calmed myself down. "It's only one night, Nan." Plus, the room came with free wi-fi.

I landed in Chicago, made the 45 minute journey to Matteson's Lincoln Mall where I was to sign at Kevin Roberts' Azizi Books; and stood on my six-inch platforms for literally six hours pitching my book and signing copies. At the end of the day, I was so ready to tumble into bed.

When I got to the hotel, 20 minutes drive outside Matteson, the attendant at the desk registered shock when I told him I had a reservation. He tried to let me know I might have made a mistake.

"Why don't you go check out the room first. It's non-smoking, but you might smell smoke." 

Huh? I was so exhausted, I didn't argue. I went to look at the room.  It was dark and I didn't see any immediate skid row signs, though the room did smell of stale smoke. I told him it was fine but on my way back to my room, I got it when I saw two prostitutes exit the room next door.

I studied my room properly now. There were kick marks and dents in the walls, and there was a cigarette hole in the (printed!) bedspread. Also, there was a kick dent in the door. 

I tore the curtains across the double pane windows, bolted the door and pushed a chair up against it for good measure. I also pulled the bedspread off and prayed there weren't any bed bugs lurking. 

I got on the free wi-fi and literally prayed as I Facebooked and emailed--there was either a heated argument or a banging party going on next door. 

The following morning, I was up and at 'em and out. I called a cab and waited for it by the empty fountain in the parking lot. That's when I noticed the upstairs veranda lined with men. One approached me, asked where I was from. Another asked if I needed a ride. When I finally got in the cab, I promised myself, Scarlett O'Hara-style, I would never go cheap again.  

So when I returned to the Chicago area for the annual GhanaFest celebration a month later, I booked a relatively swank boutique hotel. Since I was in the center of town, public transportation was nearby and a short ride to the festival venue. Azizi Books agreed to be my book selling partner at the festival and  it was a successful day. My sister joined me for the trip and was such a huge help selling. 

Ten days ago, I flew to Detroit to sign books at Underground Railroad Reading Station Bookstore and Gift Shop. Again, I booked the hotel ahead of time and resisted the urge to go cheap. I was so focused on a hotel, I forgot that my dad's cousin lives in Michigan and I could have stayed with him. I text my dad for Uncle's number the afternoon I was flying out. 

The hotel was amazing. I think because I paid in advance, I got upgraded to an executive room. The bedspread was fluffy and pristine, and the bathroom was as big as my living room. The only thing that made me take pause was the directive on the door to deadbolt it whenever I was in the room. 

I was so bored though. I Instagrammed aimlessly, ate a lonely dinner in the bar and called my uncle. He wanted to pick me up that night, but I had already dropped all this money on the hotel so I declined.

The good deal was the hotel was a ten minute walk from my signing. I walked to the bookstore which happened to be inside not just any church, but one of the oldest black churches in the country, and a stop on the freaking Underground Railroad! As in Harriet Tubman's Underground Railroad. 

I thought the bookstore's name was a nod to the history, not an actual part of history. As people straggled in and out for the Saturday tour, I decided to join the tour before my signing. 

Ms. Bobbie, the bookstore proprietor and tour guide took us on a walk that started in 1837 in the old church building and ended in the church basement where my reception was. My uncle was waiting for me and after I signed the books and took a bunch of pictures, he took me to the hotel to get my stuff. I had to check out.

I would lose the money I'd paid, but my aunt had fufu and light soup waiting. He took me on a quick tour of a few spots in Detroit, including the waterfront that separates the city from Canada. I imagined the relief the passengers on Tubman's railroad must have felt when they made it to the other side.

It was a relief to wake up the next morning at my uncle's place. Even though I would have slept in, had I been at the hotel, it felt good not to be alone in a strange city worrying for my safety. Ironically, that was the morning I learned about the mass shooting at Nairobi's Westgate Mall.

For the next few hours, I was in Kenya's capital city as I read the horrible news of hostages held and dozens dead--Ghanaian poet and statesman Professor Kofi Awoonor among the fatalities. I had met Professor Awoonor last year when, on the referral of a mutual friend, he agreed to write a letter in support of a project I was working on. 

He was so cool. He was incredibly busy, but he took the time out to speak with me about my book and the project I planned, and recommended a book I should read. He told me his door was open to me anytime...

My uncle told me the same when we said our good-byes at the airport. As I waited in the terminal, I interviewed Ghana's High Commissioner to Kenya and began working on a story about the massacre. 

My journey resumes this month. I return to the Chicago area on October 19th at 2p for a book talk at Oak Park Library. If you happen to be in town, please come by. 

Trayvon Martin & Nelson Mandela

Rest in peace, Trayvon Martin

A few years ago, I was walking home from work. It was a warm night and a group of young black boys were crowding a narrow sidewalk. I crossed to the other side, anticipating harassment -- I was not in the mood for any "Yo, ma"s or "'Sup, Shorties" or "Smile"s which I believed they would harangue me with. As I expected, one of the guys called out to me, but what he said was completely unexpected.

"Miss, we weren't going to do anything to you," he told me.

"I know," I said, seeing my little brother in him at that moment.

My brother is a skinny kid (not really a kid anymore) with a ready smile who loves to travel, hates reality shows, and is entirely too loose with his life on social media as far as I'm concerned. But in that instant with the boys on the street, I realized my brother and any of the black men in my life could be pre-judged as a potential harasser or a threat just for standing outside with their friends.

I started to think about what it would mean to have people instinctively clutch their bags around you, tense up when elevator doors close, or cross the street when you and your friends are just chilling outside on a hot evening. And I started to understand, in a personal way, the many ways black boys and men are criminalized every single day. I promised myself I would never cross the street again.

It breaks my heart that 17-year-old Trayvon Martin and so many other young black men are routinely pre-judged to death. I believe George Zimmerman's own pre-judgment of what and who is suspicious led him to kill unarmed Trayvon last February. It's also part of what enabled the officers on the scene to accept Zimmerman's version of events, let him go home without arrest, and ultimately what led a six-woman jury in the resulting trial to acquit Zimmerman this past Saturday. 

Listening to Juror B37 explain her mindset in acquitting Zimmerman in the murder of an unarmed teen, and particularly what she had to say about the way "they" talk and the way "they" live in reference to Trayvon's friend Rachel Jeantel, whom she admitted feeling sorry for in her subsequent interview with Anderson Cooper, spoke clearly to me of a pre-judgment she didn't even realize she was admitting to. As did her converse empathy with George Zimmerman. 

The injustice meted in this case is even more depressing to me in light of recent history and the distant past. So many black men and women have been the victims of racist pre-judgment. 

But as Nelson Mandela turns 95 years old today, I am reminded that that which seems impossible to change can in fact become a thing of the past. The prejudices we all hold don’t have to outlive us. But things don’t change by themselves. We’ve all got a lot of work to do, from patient conversations with people who don't agree with us on this issue to opting not to cross the street.

On the Road Again

Hi! I'm going to be in DC, IL and MI over the next few weeks. If you're in the area and/or have peeps in the area, please spread the word!

WEDNESDAY JUNE 26, 2013 6PM
Sankofa Video, Books & Cafe
2714 Georgia Avenue NW
Washington, DC 20001
Store: 202-234-4755
Cafe: 202-332-1084
https://sankofa.com/videobookscafe/

SATURDAY JUNE 29, 2013 2-5PM
Azizi Books
258 Lincoln Mall Drive
Matteson, IL 60443

708-283-9850
http://www.azizibooks.com/

SATURDAY JULY 27, 2013 10-6PM

WASHINGTON PARK

Chicago, IL

SATURDAY SEPTEMBER 21, 2013 1PM
UNDERGROUND RAILROAD READING STATION BOOKSTORE & GIFT SHOP
461 Monroe Street
Detroit, MI 48226
313-961-0325

SATURDAY OCTOBER 19, 2013 2PM

OAK PARK LIBRARY

Main Library, Small Meeting Rom

Oak Park, IL 60301

708-383-8200 

I'm on Africa Art Daily!

Check out my recent interview on the site Africa Art Daily! It's part of an expansion to online destination for what's cool on the continent called Africa Style Daily. Founded by Huffington Post Style Correspondent Zandile Blay, ASD now covers everything from music to tech to business to travel and much more under the Africa Daily Group banner -- style being the flagship.

You're Invited: Poems & Previews - Jimmy's No 43 (43 East 7th St), Thursday May 30th - 7pm

Join Minda Magero, Ayesha Harruna Attah & me for an evening of poetry and previews of new work.