Why Diversity in Book Publishing Matters

And why you should care.

In 2010, when I was VP of Publicity and Marketing for an imprint at a Big Five publisher, my then-boss tried to force me to fire an employee of color. Before that, this particular person (who remains in an executive position in the industry) tasked me with telling another employee of color to stop wearing certain clothes and jewelry that honored her culture. At the same time, this executive wouldn’t allow me to assign books by white authors to any employees of color in my department. I refused to do any of the above, and it wasn’t long before I was forced out of my role. During my exit interview, I explained to the head of HR (at that time) what had happened. Nothing was done.

I’ve worked on books by authors of color my entire career. One of the first Black authors I worked with was the late Eric Jerome Dickey, who I adored and should still be with us. Being his publicist for eight years taught me a lot: I had to fight hard to get mainstream media to pay attention to his books (they finally did, but only after he hit the NYT bestseller list), I had to explain to an all-white sales department how important publications like Essence, Ebony, and Jet were. Additionally, I explained how small, Black community newspapers impacted Eric’s books and expanded his readership. His signings were standing-room only, and I spent hours happily taking photos of him with fans. We shopped together. We got pedicures together. We walked the red carpet for the NAACP Awards together. I never saw him as “other.” I saw him as an incredibly talented storyteller who deserved to be widely read. The challenge was convincing others of the same.

If you haven’t heard of Bernice McFadden, read her book “Sugar” immediately. It remains one of the best books I have ever read and had the honor of working on. Bernice is massively talented, and while I could get reviews for her books, it was still difficult to break her into the mainstream as a Black female literary writer in the early aughts. Her body of work is incredible.

Later, I worked with Zane, who one could say is the Godmother of erotica. I never felt like she got her due and was largely overlooked by many mainstream media because so many of her books were too risqué or too “street.”

In Bernice and Zane’s cases, sales departments largely dismissed them to focus on bigger (read: white) books. I tried my best to move the needle enough so attention was paid. It was and remains challenging.

Today, The Atlantic published a piece entitled, “Has the DEI Backlash Come for Publishing?” The answer is that it always has. It’s just that many white people in publishing are afraid to come forward and speak out about the inequalities they see and are complicit in within the industry. As you know, I am not one to keep quiet.

As much as I love my industry, it is woefully inadequate in diversity. This has been written about a lot over the years. Some—not all—of the problems include low starting salaries, hiring editors who will only acquire books by white authors because that is where their interests lie, cost of living raises that don’t allow junior employees the mental space to focus on work without worrying how they’ll pay rent (money trauma is a thing), and much more. Further, if the industry favors publishing programs at expensive schools like NYU, a limited pool exists to recruit employees. Many diverse young people do not want to take on more debt attending a publishing program; others don’t have the resources to do so.

Literacy rates are falling nationwide, but especially in underserved diverse communities. That is not only an education problem but a book publishing problem. Book bans do not help, which means we as an industry must fight harder for at-risk children, most of whom are not white. If you want readers for diverse books, start there.

The industry needs to take a long, hard look at itself regarding diversity. I don’t believe it has done so in earnest. If it had, we’d see more diverse books, employees, and CEOs. More of us need to speak out about the industry’s inequities. By that, I mean more of us who are Gen X and have seen a lot happen inside publishing houses over the past 25 years.

When I watched “American Fiction,” I told my husband, “They got publishing exactly right.” One scene depicts white publishing executives fawning over who they think is a convict-turned-author and spewing all the things they think they can do for the book. Another scene depicts the author moving his literary fiction books out of a section designated for Black authors and into general fiction—except an employee stops him. If you think these incidents don’t happen, I have a bridge to sell you.

So, why am I writing this? Well, for one, I acknowledge my privilege as a white woman in book publishing. Second, I have worked on enough books by Black authors to know that the constructs surrounding their challenges can be eliminated. Third, I have had to defend employees of color through the years, and frankly, I should have been public about this much sooner. I hope that by writing this, others are encouraged to do the same.

At its core, book publishing is supposed to be an industry where ALL ideas are exchanged and respected—except that doesn’t happen nearly enough. With the recent departures (read: dismissals) of Black female executives in publishing, we are losing ground instead of gaining more great, diverse books, employees, and readers and, instead, accepting the industry “as is.” It’s way past time to reject that idea. The future of publishing depends on it.