Calling all southern African writers: the PEN Studzinski Award is now open for entries

Great news, the short story award sponsored by the South African Centre of International Pen is back ... the PEN/Studzinski Award 2011 is now open for entries. There is a change: last year, it was open to all writers from every country in Africa, but this year, it is open only to SADC nationals. If you are a SADC national, do consider entering. This competition planted the seeds of my success, or watered the seeds I had planted, and I will tell you how.

The PEN website misidentifies me as an "early winner", I did not, in fact, win this competition: in 2007, I came second to the South African writer Henrietta Rose-Innes, whose story went on to win the 2008 Caine Prize for African Writing. What this competition did do for me, even without me actually winning it, was to boost my confidence tremendously. It showed me that I was on to something, it was only my second ever short story that did so well. It also provided me with a quote from the judge, JM Coetzee, which I used for all it was worth. The month after I received my award, I sent an audacious email to Prospect magazine with the subject title: "Coetzee-approved Writer Would like to be Published by You". They published my story in June. The story was spotted by someone at my current literary agency who "head-hunted" me and the rest you know.

The competition also gave me, through the good people at SA PEN an introduction to JM Coetzee, who generously gave me a blurb for my book. For all his reputation as something of a grumpypants, JM Coetzee is one of the few literary grandees who consistently goes out of his way to help new writers. Being read by him is a real honour, so do consider entering this, if you are eligible. Do remember though, his observation in last year's judge's report that "a competition meant to bring to the fore young and emerging writers is not necessarily a competition for stories about childhood". Heh! So get to it, just go easy on the child narrators. Unless, of course, they are in the league of Scout Finch or Holden Caulfield in which case, go to it!

Why the present crisis in Nigeria reminds me of "Weekend at Bernie's"

If you have not been following the extraordinary events in Nigeria, you need to do so, stat. This is the story so far: President Umaru Yar'Adua falls sick and is flown to Saudi Arabia for treatment. He is away for more than 60 days. He does not leave a formal letter to say he is on sick leave. The Nigerian constitution demands such a letter before his deputy can take over.

An official deputation is sent to Saudi Arabia but is unable to see him. The general conclusion is that his wife Turai is denying access to him because she does not want Nigeria to know just how sick he is. The newspaper Next publishes a story to the effect that he is either brain-dead or significantly incapacitated. The President, or, as Next put it, a man purporting to be the President (snap!) speaks to the BBC's Hausa News Service to say he is recovering and he wishes the Super Eagles luck during the Africa Cup of Nations.

The Attorney General issues an extraodiary statement to the effect that the President can rule the country "from anywhere". (This man, by the way, is considered one of the leading villains of the piece: he speaks like one those lawyers you find hovering at the maintenance court in Harare, trying to impress single mothers by saying stuff like res ipsa loquitor and other legalese.) Anyhoo, one court action after the other is initiated by different groups to no avail. The cabinet dithers. The Senate meets and dithers. The Governors dither. There are protests in Lagos, in London and New York and other places.

Then finally, the Senate issues a resolution to the effect that the deputy President can take over. Yar'Adua is hoist with his own petard: the Senate uses the phone call to the BBC as the requisite notice required by the Constitution. Snap! The deputy President takes over. The deputy President is a man with a friendly, open face who loves his trés dapper hats, and goes by the very Zimbabwean name of Goodluck Jonathan. So Mr. Jonathan is now the acting President of Nigeria, acting, as you will have gathered, in a web of conspiracies and counter-consipiracies. As the Economist said in its last report on Nigeria: Good luck, Jonathan!

This is where we were until Wednesday, when a most extraordinary twist occured. President Yar'Adua is flown to Nigeria under cover of darkness! Reliable sources say he was led out of the plane on a stretcher! Turai Yar'Adua will not allow anyone to see him! His cabinet has not seen him! The acting President has not seen him! No one has seen him! Sing asimbonanga, asimbonang', uYar'Adua thina! Laph'ekhona! laph'ehleli khona! Hey wena! He is guarded by a battalion of soldiers! The acting President's office has been ransacked! Guards are standing over the seat the acting Presiident is supposed to occupy when presiding over the Executive Council! Allegedly!! I repeat, allegedly!! (By the way, I have enjoyed Next's coverage on this issue, but they really need to use that most useful word "allegedly" much more liberally than they currently do.)

Now two things spring to mind, firstly that this problem could be very simply solved by Yar'Adua speaking into a camera into the homes of all Nigerians. The secrecy is astonishing. It is mind-bogglingly extraordinary. It is astounding that an entire nation of 150 million can be held hostage like this. It is simply extraodinary. If I am using the word extraodinary a lot, it is because it is. Extraodinary. The second thing that springs to mind shows me that, alas, that I am a victim of pop cultural trivia. One of my favorite really bad movies of all times is Weekend at Bernie's. If, like me, you are a child of the 80s, you will remember the movie about two guys who think they have killed their boss, and spend the rest of the movie trying to convince everyone that he is still alive, covering his eyes with shades, using his corpse as a prop, plonking a cocktail in his lap at the beach, waving his dead arm around and so on.

The situation in Nigeria is just as absurd, there are elements about it that are comically funny. It is the ultimate good bad movie. Unlike in Weekend at Bernie's though, the supposedly-dead man who is a prop for the ambitions of others happens to be the leader of one of the world's titans, and suddenly, it is really not that funny.

Some news on translation and the Los Angeles Times Art Seidenbaum First Book Award.

My good news streak continues ... If you live in Serbia, you will soon be reading An Elegy for Easterly in Serbian. The Serbian rights have been sold to Samidat B 92, the book arm of B 92, a large media company. Samidat B 92 also publish Art Spiegelman, Alexander McCall Smith and Ali Smith among others. I am really happy about this. When I agreed last year to go to the Kikinda Short Story Festival and to do readings in Belgrade, Srdjan Srdic, the festival organiser, told me that lots of good luck came to the writers who took part in Kikinda. This may be some of that luck.

More translation news, and this time from Zimbabwe: Charles Mungoshi and Musa Zimunya have agreed to edit a collection of short stories for Weaver Press. Here is the super-thrilling bit: the anthology is in Shona. They have chosen to include The Mupandawana Dancing Champion which will be translated by Musa Zimunya. I have said many times that Charles Mungoshi is my favourite Zimbabwean writer, and that his books in Shona are, to me, the finest in Zimbabwean literature. So it is wonderful to be spoken of in the same breath as him. I completely adore Musa too, he gave the keynote address at my book launch in Zim. I had lots of fun translating the thoughts and language of my characters from Shona to English: I hope Musa has as much fun translating it all back.

Finally, here is some more award news. My book is a finalist for the Los Angeles Times Art Seidenbaum First Book Award. I am beyond thrilled about this. The other finalists are Paul Harding, for Tinkers, Philipp Meyer, for American Rust, Daniyal Mueenuddin, for In Other Rooms, Other Wonders and my doppelganger Wells Tower, for Everything Ravaged, Everything Burned. To read about the finalists in other categories, including a special award to be given to Dave Eggers, click here. I have been invited to the awards ceremony on 23 April, and will also take part in the Los Angeles Times Book Festival at UCLA. I am definitely on a lucky streak with newspaper-sponsored awards ...

In which my President turns 86 and I contemplate the joys of living in a gerontocracy

In all this award excitement, I forgot that today is a most august day as it marks the birthday of President Robert Gabriel Mugabe, the Head of State and Government of the Republic of Zimbabwe, Commander of the Armed Forces and Chancellor of the University of Zimbabwe and about ten or so other universities. He is 86 years old today. I had been worrying that he might feel it is time to hand over power at the next election, but I am reassured to hear that he is considering running again in 2013, when he will be 89. Now me, I have always believed Zimbabweans are special, and what can be more special than being a citizen of one of the world’s leading gerontocracies? Now you know to take Wikipedia with a lot of salt (that’s right kids, Wikipedia is not always your friend) but it is there, it is handy, and this is what it says under "gerontocracy":

"Countries with leaders in their 70s or 80s have included Albania (First Secretary Enver Hoxha was 76 at death), Czechoslovakia (President Gustáv Husák was 76 at his resignation), East Germany (General Secretary and head of state Erich Honecker was 77 when forced out), Hungary (General Secretary János Kádár was 75 when forced out), Laos (President Nouhak Phoumsavanh was 83 at retirement), North Korea (President Kim Il-sung was 82 at death), Romania (General Secretary and President Nicolae Ceauşescu was 70 when executed), Vietnam (President Truong Chinh was 80 at retirement), Yugoslavia (President Josip Broz Tito was 87 at death."

Now, if President Mugabe runs and wins in 2013 (as he will, of course, because the land is the economy and there will be no reverse and no surrender bhazi rekwaMusanhi), and then runs and wins again in 2018 (because we are for 100% total empowerment and the land is the economy etcetera etcetera and the economy is the land) that will beat all records, that will. He will be 94! And if he runs again in 2023 he will be 99! And in 2028 he will be 104. Then he can beat the wimpy short-lived communists and Kamuzu Banda! Hands down! All without a fly-whisk or Mama Kadzamira! So happy birthday Mr. President! You hang in there!

Photo: Reuters.

Ex Africa semper aliquid novi, and this week it was Lola Shoneyin and Billy Kahora

This week, I had the honour and pleasure of reading Lola Shoneyin's novel, The Secret Wives of Baba Segi's Wives. My friend Molara Wood, the writer and critic, told me about this novel two years ago and I was intrigued by the title. So when Lola asked me to read it with a view to "blurbing it", I was delighted. It is a wonderful novel, Lola is a poet, so the writing is lyrical but not cloying. It is also very, very funny ... she upends the traditional assumptions about polygamy to amusing and moving effect. Watch out for Baba Segi, coming your way in April. It is published in the UK by the edgy indy Serpent's Tail. The book will also be published in Nigeria by Cassava Republic and in the United States by William Morrow.

More great reading this week came from Kenya, from Billy Kahora, who is one of my favourite writers. I am a little mad at him because he has been working on a novel for a while and I want it to burst into light. I love the muscularity of his prose, and his serious commitment to engaging with the contemporary multiple realities of our times, or, as he would put it, his commitment to producing "the defining texts of the here and now, (so) that they are written down and not just talked about". If you can find it, you need to read his stunning story on David Munyakei, the Goldenberg whistleblower. It is published in Kwani? 3. If you can't find it, no fear, here is his latest work, an absolutely brilliant short story called The Gorilla's Apprentice, published on the Granta website. Granta, by the way, just gets better and better. If you missed it, also check out Martin Kimani's searing piece on the work of killing in the latest issue of Granta. Kimani's piece appears in the magazine. Billy's story is part of Granta's "New Voices" feature. Billy also gave Granta an interview in which he gave a characteristically trenchant riposte to the increasingly irritating question about whether writers should stop "stereotyping" Africa and write positive stories. Says Billy:

"Tough as it is to accept that people take machetes against one another, I can’t as a storyteller worry too much about repainting that picture. I leave that to governments seeking aid, tour companies wooing Western visitors, African ‘entrepreneurs’ looking for investment, and all those who profess to ‘love’ Africa. I cannot afford to worry about that just because of a whole bunch of hand waggers flinching at Africa’s ‘realities’ – despite the sad fact of a whole slew of parties on the other side of the divide waiting to jump on those very facts of famines and genocides and make a meal of them and ignore similar things going on elsewhere…"

Attaboy, Billy. Read The Gorilla's Apprentice here, and Billy's interview with Granta here.

In which Lucian Msamati and Chipo Chung read from An Elegy for Easterly

Now here is the most fantastic news: two of Zimbabwe's finest thespians, Lucian Msamati and Chipo Chung, are going to perform three of the stories from An Elegy for Easterly! I am really excited about this, in fact, I cannot stop grinning. The stories will be broadcast on the BBC's Radio 4. Lucian is a brilliant actor who was first bitten by the bug as a schoolboy (he was raised in Zim but his parents are from Tanzania). He went on to do a number of productions with the comedy troupe Over The Edge and has done a lot of theatre both in Zim and in the UK . He currently has a wonderfully meaty role as Mr. JLB Matekoni, the love interest of Mma Ramotswe in The Number One Ladies' Private Detective Agency drama series on the BBC. I cannot imagine anyone better suited to narrate two of my most jaded male characters.

Chipo Chung is one of the most strikingly unforgettable actresses working today, like Lucian, she started acting in Zim, I have distinct memories of seeing her in some Reps productions and I have followed her career with interest. She is RADA trained, has done masses of theatre and has lit up the small screen in some small but significant roles, particularly as the poor doomed alien Chantho in the Dr. Who episode Utopia. Her boss in that episode, Prof. Yana, was played by the brilliant Derek Jacobi. I read somewhere that Chipo was so impressive that the Dr. Who team decided to have her back on without all the make-up she wore as Chantho and she subsequently appeared in the pivotal episode Turn Left.

So you can imagine how proud and happy I am to have these two blazing talents reading and performing the words that I wrote. Radio 4 will transmit the stories as follows:

16 March 2010 - The Mupandawana Dancing Champion

17 March 2010 - My Cousin-Sister Ramabanai

18 March 2010 - Our Man in Geneva Wins a Million Euros

Liz Allard who is producing the broadcasts has promised me some pictures of the recording sessions so watch this space.

Photo of Lucian Msamati: BBC. Photo of Chipo Chung: chanceprojects.com.

A new writer and a new book: meet Nadifa Mohamed and "Black Mamba Boy"

Here is a book you are likely to hear a lot about in coming months: Black Mamba Boy is a debut novel by Nadifa Mohamed. Set in the 1930s, it is the story of a young boy's search for his father and his journey from Somalia across Africa. I love the premise, so I will definitely be buying this. I also enjoyed hearing Nadifa speak about how she came to write the book. I can already see the
WriteOnlyPositivelyAboutAfrica Brigade sharpening their knives, but sheath your weapons, worthy gentlemen, stay your hands, worthy sirs ... the novel is based on the true story of Nadifa's own father and is as much about love and resilience, sonhood and fatherhood as it is about the dark and horrible things that have happened in Somalia. I love that she and her father worked on this together, mining memories to produce this labour of love.

I must say that I am a little uncertain about the title, but this is my own prejudice: I don't like to see books set in Africa with references to nature or animals or Africa in the title, especially when accompanied by a picture of a cute little black boy or girl. Another new novel, set in the Horn of Africa, raises the same issues for me, I am talking here about Maaza Mengiste's debut novel, Beneath the Lion's Gaze. It is true that sometimes marketing departments recommend titles to their authors, I imagine the calculation here is that some titles make you think oh, this is something set in Africa ... but such books tend to have the opposite effect on me ... they remind me of the Spanish red in one of David Lodge's novels - with an image of a flamenco dancer and a bullfighter accompanying the legend "Made In Spain" , the wine proclaimed a little too loudly its Spanish origins and thus put into question its provenance. Hee hee. But back to the book: if any of you have read Black Mamba Boy or Lion's Gaze for that matter and want to talk about them, do drop me a line.

UPDATE:

Thanks J for your thoughtful comment below ... I would never presume to tell any writer how to name their books, and I certainly hope that is not the impression I am giving in this post. The last thing I will ever do, and you can count on this, is to be prescriptive about stuff like this. I am merely commenting on my perhaps irrational prejudice, as prejudices often are. I agree with you of course that in some instances, the "animal" or "nature" reference is intrinsic to the story, Half of A Yellow Sun is a good example ... the title is a reference to an image on the flag of the defeated Biafra Republic. And possibly, Under the Lion's Gaze refers to Mengistu, "the Lion of Judah", as you say. And you are quite right to recommend a book by book approach. It is perhaps because I so dislike this AfricaEqualsOnlyNature cliché that I react so viscerally to books with titles such as these ... a reaction which, as you say, may actually blind me to the appropriateness of some of these titles for the books they name. Some of my favorite novels set in African places are novels with titles that could be about anything: No Longer At Ease, Things Fall Apart (I dislike Anthills of the Savannah as a title even though the novel is my favourite Achebe) Nervous Conditions, Reading the Ceiling ... I suppose I like titles that intrigue me, not those that hit me in the face with sometimes cheap and obvious references to Africa. Thanks again J, for stopping by, and don't be a stranger.

Achille Mbembe on donor-funded art and development in Africa

At the African Literature Week in Oslo in November last year, Tsitsi Dangarembga, the writer and filmmaker from Zimbabwe, told us that she considered only one film to be the film she wanted to make, the rest of her ouvre was made up of films she had to make to get donor funding and put bread on the table. This is yet another example of what I have long believed, that the problem with donors is that they often fund what they consider to be your priorities, and not what you consider to be your own priorities. And priorities and funding fads, as we know, change from decade to decade, year to year. I am also a little queasy about donor-funded art, or donor-funded publishing. I don't think art flourishes when the artist has to be accountable to a donor, or when the donor sees the funded project only from the narrow view of the priorities it has set as part of its development policy. Here, to articulate this better than I could, is Achille Mbembe who says:

"Most Western donor agencies come to Africa with a simplistic idea of what 'development' is all about. They consider Africa to be a zone of emergency, a fertile ground for humanitarian interventions. The future is not part of their theory of Africa when such a theory exists. Africa is the land of never-ending present and instant, where today and now matter more than tomorrow, let alone the distant future. The function of art is to subsume and transcend the instant; to open horizons for the not-yet. Such is too, at least to me, the task of cultural criticism. In circumstances where millions of people indeed struggle to make it from today to tomorrow, the work of culture is to pave the way for a certain practice of the imagination ... This struggle to write one's name and to inscribe one's voice in a structure of time that is opened to the future is a profoundly human struggle."

For the rest of this excellent piece, click here.

On the BBC world debate, the Africa Progress Panel and why Botswana is so great

Last week, I participated in a discussion entitled "Will the real Africa please stand up?" The debate was organised by the Africa Progress Panel, as part of its recently-ended Annual Meeting and hosted by the BBC's dazzling Zeinab Badawi. The panel leading the discussion was made up of three APP members: Kofi Annan, General Olusegun Obasanjo, the former president of Nigeria and Linah Mohohlo, the governor of Botswana's central bank. The fourth panelist was me. Yes, me. Really, me. That's me in the purplish turbanish thing in that picture. Quite how I got onto this panel is a story in itself. The short version is that I was invited in my dual capacity as a lawyer who has advised developing countries, including African countries, on trade issues, and also as a writer who has written a book set in Zimbabwe.

The event took place here in Geneva before a star-studded audience of people like Valentine Rugwabiza, the Deputy Director-General of the WTO, Michel Camdessus, former head of the IMF, Peter Eigen, founder of Transparency International, Bob Geldof, and many professionals from Geneva and beyond who are engaged with issues of African and international development. I was delighted that we moved away from the usual aid aid aid mantras and found ourselves talking about trade and how to facilitate trade and regional integration and culture and all sorts of other things. I had some great compliments after the event and emails from people who caught the debate on TV this weekend, thank you dear people and perfect strangers, for your kind comments. You make Castle great.

And why did I not inform the rest of you about the broadcast, I hear you ask? Well, I was quaking through most of it, and terrified that I would make a fool of myself, so I thought I would keep it to myself in case I had people rolling on the floor (and not in a good way). At one point during the debate, I started to sweat a little when I found myself saying, "Well, I agree with Kofi." We had agreed to use first names, you see, but when I found myself actually saying "Kofi" to the world, it felt a little strange. After the thing was over and the cameras had stopped rolling and we had a little party thing and I could relax, it was great fun. I met some fantastic people, really fun, smart and engaged people. I am madly in love with Linah Mohohlo, by the way, she is one of the reasons Botswana is such a great country. I have never hidden my criticism of Africa's leadership, but I have always stated my faith in its people, and looking around that room confirmed yet again that the future is very bright indeed.

Photo: APP

An Elegy for Easterly up for a National Merit Award

Some really great news: Zimbabwe's National Arts Council announced last week that An Elegy for Easterly is in the running for a National Merit Award. I am one of three nominees in the "Outstanding Debut" category ... the others are my good friend Brian Chikwava for his novel "Harare North" and Lawrence Hoba for his story collection "The Great Trek and Other Stories". I was not even aware that I had been nominated! I had also not been aware that books published outside the country were eligible, but it appears that NAMAs are open to all nationals of Zimbabwe, no matter where their work is produced or where they live. I am happy and very proud indeed to be up there with all the cool and edgy people in Zim: the writers, actors and singers who have been bringing joy to Zimbabweans and keeping the arts alive. Congratulations to all the nominees, and good luck to all. The results are announced on 20 February 2010.

On the death of Jerome David Salinger

I have been massively busy this last week and have not had time to reflect on the death of JD Salinger. I first read him in Austria, in 1995, in my year of reading everything. I had just read The Great Gatsby, and I was still shell-shocked from that experience when I plunged into The Catcher in the Rye. So the two will forever be associated in my mind. If I were to give a writing class on voice and the use of the first-person narrator, I would make my students read Lolita, The Remains of the Day, Nervous Conditions, To Kill a Mocking Bird and The Catcher in the Rye ... if only to admire their authors' astounding ability to capture the absolutely perfect voice for the narrator, so perfect that you feel that there could be no other voices for these particular narrators, so perfect that you see and feel and know the person to every last intimate detail. The book cover featured here is from the Guardian, which showcased the latest versions of his books, to be published next month by Penguin. I love them, love them, love them. They are things of pure loveliness; beautiful, simple and elegant.

I look forward to seeing what he had been writing, although I hope the people around him will not do a Nabokov on him and publish something he was unhappy with. By the way, I will not read The Original of Laura: I believe that even famous writers whose every word I may want to read, and that is certainly how I feel about Nabokov, deserve their dignity. I hope Salinger had a lot more that he wanted to say after his death, and that he kept those manuscripts piling up as has been rumoured, but if he did not, we will still have the pleasure of rereading him, again and again. Go well JD.

A thank you message for all the enthusiastic readers I may never meet

My good buddy Chika Unigwe told me yesterday that she was on a train in London a couple of months ago when she saw a woman deeply engrossed in a book. She looked to see what the book was, and it was An Elegy for Easterly. Are you enjoying that, Chika asked? Yes, answered the woman, I can't stop reading it. She was really excited when Chika told her that she knows me. This is a thank you to that woman on the train, that statement is better than any blurb. Why is it better than any blurb? A reader like that, someone so enthusiastic about what she is reading, is not going to stop there, she will tell a friend who will tell a friend who will tell a friend, like in that (Alberto VO5?) shampoo advert from the 80s. I am learning all the time about how the book market works, and it seems that a publicity blitz moves books in the first four or so months after publication and word-of-mouth does the rest. So to all those readers who are word-of-mouthing my book, thank you, thank you, and please don't stop.