‘The aim is simply to give each writer two things: 1. A way forward with their writing, and 2. The confidence in themselves to take that step forward.’
Perhaps the greatest thing about being a writer is the communities you discover – a group of fellow debuts, your trusted Critique Partners, genre peers … or writers who are similarly marginalised. It is an uncomfortable truth that while the community is wonderful, institutional change leaves a lot to be desired. We all know the stats and have heard enough anecdotes to suspect the stats are only the tip of the iceberg. Marginalised writers are confronted time and again with proof that the publishing industry should value us more. Instead, it often favours habit and comfort over uncomfortable change, and even those ‘like us’ who have succeeded can still be on the outside the moment the wagons circle. This can be deeply hurtful, and makes it hard to keep trying to write, especially if you feel alone. I believe the world of books needs us. Readers need the unheard, the unfamiliar and too-often-erased. What does not change stagnates, and the stories of the marginalised are the oxygen this system sorely needs. And so, I was propelled into action.
What could I, a new author with a very small platform, do to be part of positive change in publishing? I can write stories, creating characters and exploring themes that matter to me. And I can support other writers who are a rung or two below me on the ladder. Last autumn, after wrestling briefly with imposter syndrome, I took a deep, rather angry breath, and launched Rewriting The Margins.
Rewriting The Margins is my mentorship scheme for under-represented writers. I offer critique and advice, for free, to two randomly selected applicants every month (almost; it depends on my health). The free and the random are key. Financial constraints and other marginalisations are often intertwined, and too many opportunities for under-represented writers function on a competitive basis, which inherently disadvantages those who are already the most disadvantaged. What I critique varies depending on what the mentee needs, and I have had mentees at every stage from novice to prize-winning. The aim is simply to give each writer two things: 1. A way forward with their writing, and 2. The confidence in themselves to take that step forward. These two are equally important because as I said above, navigating a publishing industry that is difficult at best and downright hostile at worst can chip away at your self-belief. Everyone experiences that, of course, but multiply it many times over for those whose voices are made to feel intrinsically unwelcome.
One of the most wonderful and most heartbreaking things about running Rewriting The Margins has been the number of mentees who have told me my feedback made them cry, for all the right reasons. I am profoundly glad and honoured that my critique has given them insight, direction and validation; but I am also so sad, and so angry that their confidence has been torn down to the extent that just one person believing in them can mean so much.
I know what that feels like, but I’m lucky enough to have writerly friends who pick me up and remind me that yes, I do belong in this space and yes, there is a readership for my stories. Not-entirely-tangentially, I have recently fallen in love with the term ‘third culture person’ for those of us who are mixed-race or children of immigrants or both. We are often, I think, shaped by rootlessness; by the question of where we belong, and who gets to decide that. Perhaps it is not surprising then that these questions influence my writing, with themes of identity, the inheritance of trauma, and belonging threaded through my novels. Where my debut This Is Our Undoing explored personal agency and the legacy of loss, my upcoming second novel, The Way The Light Bends, looks at the consequences of being rootless within your own family. Very different books but they both hopefully represent a safe space for readers too used to seeing themselves erased or stereotyped in fiction.
We should not need safe spaces as readers or writers. But the brutal truth is that we do. Readers need positive representation; writers need sanctuary where our peers can support us, understand us, and empower us to come out fighting. Prime examples are the amazing work of the SoA’s new Authors with Disabilities and Chronic Illnesses group, and, of course, the wonderful Scottish BPOC Writers’ Network, and I’m lucky to be involved in both of these groups. I see my mentorships as another way of providing a safe space and a helping hand. It’s not much in the grand scheme of things, but it’s my small contribution to the rising tide of change. And I do think change is happening. The industry might resist but those who want change are manifold and determined. And, crucially, there is a demand for our stories. Look at the success of The Hate U Give. Or Douglas Stuart’s Shuggie Bain, N. K. Jemisin’s record-breaking Broken Earth trilogy, or the success of Leigh Bardugo’s Grishaverse TV adaptation.
Now, most of us are unlikely to scale those particular heights. But that does not make our stories, and the diversity that we create in those stories, any less important. There is space for the marginalised in this industry; not least because we are carving it out ourselves. Every writer who perseveres, and every book that includes positive, thoughtful representation, is one more necessary step forward. Whether you are marginalised or not, whether you are writing about that marginalisation or not, every story that presents diversity as the norm and not ‘other’ is a step towards diversity being perceived as normal, and not ‘other’. Which can only make publishing a richer, stronger world.
Having spent many years working as a conservation scientist in remote corners of the world, Lorraine Wilson now lives by the sea in Scotland writing stories influenced by folklore and the wilderness. Her short fiction has appeared in (amongst others) Strange Horizons, Forge Lit, The Mechanics’ Institute Review and Boudicca Press. Her debut novel, the dystopian thriller This Is Our Undoing, was released in 2021 and has been shortlisted for several prizes. A second novel, The Way The Light Bends is a dark folkloric tale coming out in August 2022. She runs the Rewriting The Margins mentorship scheme for marginalised writers, tweets @raine_clouds and her books and website can be found at https://linktr.ee/raine_clouds.
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