My publisher has set up a book trailer for Secret Son. Take a look:
I had never even heard about book trailers when my first book was published in 2005, but with so much new technology, I’m sure there will be many more differences between that launch and this one.
Earlier this week, the Irish novelist Colm Toíbín told an interviewer for the Guardian (MJ Hyland, herself a novelist) that he found no enjoyment in writing:
“Oh there’s no pleasure. Except that I don’t have to work for anyone who bullies me,” he said in response to Hyland’s question about how writing makes him feel. “I write with a sort of grim determination to deal with things that are hidden and difficult and this means, I think, that pleasure is out of the question. I would associate this with narcissism anyway and I would disapprove of it.”
The only aspect of writing he liked, he said, was getting paid. Now other writers, including AL Kennedy, Hari Kunzru, and Joyce Carol Oates, are chiming in with their stories of what they like or dislike about their profession. I think AL Kennedy sums up my feelings when she says, “The joy of writing for a living is that you get to do it all the time. The misery is that you have to, whether you’re in the mood or not.”
As the publishing date for Secret Son comes closer, I find myself struggling to keep up with everything that is happening in the background: tour events, promotional trailer, advance reviews, foreign editions, and so on. Here, for instance, is the final cover for the novel, with bigger fonts and a more streamlined look:
You can pre-order it here, here, or here. And of course it will be in bookstores on April 21.
Meanwhile, I’m getting ready to do a couple of events at the end of this week in Washington, D.C., as part of the Arabesque Festival at the Kennedy Center. The events are free, but you will need to get tickets in advance.
I have a small piece on the Sudanese writer Tayeb Salih in this week’s issue of Time Magazine. Here is the opening paragraph:
When I was in college, a friend of mine pressed with great urgency a copy of a slim little novel into my hands, as if he were aware it would satiate a hunger I didn’t know I had. That book was Season of Migration to the North, by the Sudanese writer Tayeb Salih, who passed away in London on Feb. 18 at 80. I had been writing for some time by then, but Salih’s perceptive assessment of the relationship between East and West, his complex weaving of personal and political lives, and the beauty of his prose redefined fiction for me.
For those who are interested in the introduction I wrote for Salih’s Season of Migration to the North, an abridged version of the essay appears in this weekend’s National.
Apropos of Margaret Atwood. Earlier this month, the British novelist Geraldine Bedell, author of The Gulf Between Us, claimed to have been dis-invited from the Emirates Airlines Festival of Literature, where her book was supposed to be launched, because it contained a gay sheik character. She also claimed that The Gulf Between Us had been banned from sale in the, well, Gulf. Bedell protested; several authors rose to her defense and in support of freedom of speech; the venerable Margaret Atwood canceled her appearance at the festival; there was a major hoopla in London newspapers. Here’s The Times, for instance: “Geraldine Bedell’s novel banned in Dubai because of gay character.” And here’s The Telegraph: “British author Geraldine Bedell banned from Dubai book festival.”
Only now, after all this exposure and publicity, does the image get a little more complicated. If you read the articles linked to above, you’ll notice that the source appears to be Bedell herself and an email from the festival’s director, Isobel Abulhoul. You’ll also notice that the book is not due out until April, which makes it a little hard to claim that it was “banned” from sale. After the initial controversy, Abulhoul came forward to say that she was in fact approached by Bedell’s publisher for a possible launch of the novel at the festival. She read the manuscript, decided it wasn’t right for the festival, and said no. One can safely assume she wasn’t expecting her email to be leaked to the press. Margaret Atwood wrote a funny, self-deprecating piece for the Guardian, explaining how she was fooled into thinking this was a clear-cut case of censorship:
From reading the press, I got the impression that her book had been scheduled to launch at the festival, and that the launch had then been cancelled, for whiff-o’gay-sheikh reasons; and that, furthermore, it had been banned throughout the Gulf states; and that furthermore, Bedell herself had been prohibited from attending the festival, and also from travelling in Dubai. So said TheCelebrityCafe.com and other commentators.
This was a case for Anti-Censorship Woman! I nipped into the nearest phone booth, hopped into my cape and coiled my magic lasso, and swiftly cancelled my own appearance; because, as a vice-president of International PEN, I could not give my August Seal of Elderly Writer Approval to such a venue.
Well done, Anti-Censorship Woman! was the response. How stalwart!
But possibly not.
You can read Atwood’s response in full here.