I read 29 books this year (look, I'm a slow reader & I'm comfortable with odd numbers, deal with it 😌).
A few things I ensured to do this year to switch up my reading and keep it diverse and inclusive:
- multi-genre & across subgenres, so I didn't only read SFF
- multi-format, so I read in print, e-book & audio
- authors across identity spectra, particularly ensuring to have 50%+ non-male, non-white works.
Now, on to the books. *wriggles fingers*
1. THE POET X by @AcevedoWrites. Highly recommend. YA coming-of-age novel-in-verse, but you don't have to read YA to see the genius in this book's simplicity packed with complexity. I would die for this book if I could. I still may, who knows?
2. MY SISTER THE SERIAL KILLER by @OyinBraithwaite. There's little more I can say about this book that hasn't been said. It did something relatively new with fiction from Nigeria/Africa that's been tough to achieve for a long time. @adeperoOduye's narration was 👌🏾.
Steampunk fantasy in an alternate New Orleans, featuring the Yoruba orisha, Oya, and a motley cast to make the mouth water. Won the Nebula for Best Novella. Obviously.
I learned everything I knew about Katrina through cable TV in Nigeria. Little nuance. This was a lyrical behind-the-scenes tale of the complex humans who lived through it. Unsurprised it was a National Book Award winner.
Format: Print
Correction: was nominated, but didn't win. (I think I wished so hard it did that I just forgot it didn't, lol).
5. THE TEA MASTER AND THE DETECTIVE by @aliettedb.
Lemme put it this way: Think Sherlock Holmes and Watson, but Sherlock is an Asian scholar & Watson is a sentient spaceship. That's not the only beautiful thing about this novella--it's beautifully written too.
Format: Kindle.
• • •
Missing some Tweet in this thread? You can try to
force a refresh
I once asked my mother what her family did during the Nigerian Civil War. She said her father was jobhunting.
Jobhunting.
TV gives us the idea that chaos rules when the worst things happen. But in truth, more people than not will try to retain a semblance of normalcy.
Ergo, if you believe your daily schedule will shift radically when things come crashing down, you'll be wrong.
When Victoria Island, Lagos floods as it does yearly, some residents put their work clothes in a backpack, take a canoe to work, and dress up in the restrooms.
Remember this when things are slowly crashing around you, but because no one declares open season on you in the streets, or ash isn't perpetually falling from the sky, it feels like things haven't gone that far yet.
They have, and the right time to act like they have is now.
EACH OF US A DESERT by @MarkDoesStuff. "A powerful fantasy novel about finding home and falling in love amidst the dangers of a desert where stories come to life."
LEGENDBORN by @tracydeonn. Meet Bree: Black girl magic, literally. Infiltrates secret society of "Legendborn" monster slayers to find the truth about her mother, despite some dude called "Merlin" trying to wipe her memory--and failing.
Remember one of those secret projects I said I’m involved in? Well, @UNICEF + @TheLancet & @FT Commission are partnering on @GHFutures2030 to explore how technology is shaping health and wellbeing for future generations.
And I’m working with them to help envision this.
We’re asking young people to imagine their own health futures. We want to know what mental health, healthcare & medicine, with artificial intelligence & frontier technologies, could look like in 2045. Youth voices matter, and we need them to be heard by world leaders at #UN75.
If you’re young (or have youngsters around you—looking at you, teachers!), what’s the biggest obstacle to your health? Climate change? Politics? Education? Join the conversation with the #MyFutureMyHealth hashtag. Go wild: Robot nurses! Wearable monitors! Flying Ambulances!
I'm teaching this virtual class at @piper_center for the next 3 weeks, and a silent benefactor & I are sponsoring TWO SCHOLARSHIPS for BIPOC writers to attend.
Open to writers anywhere in the world. See details in thread!
First, what the workshop is about: Every Monday for 3 weeks, I'll explain my understanding of revision, and actionable practices I use to revise my work (both long and short). Then we'll identify which may work for you and try those on your work.
Dope, right? Get in, then!
To apply for these scholarships: Email the following to ask@suyidavies.com:
1. one-page cover letter (about 3 paragraphs explaining your writing path, publications & aims for this class) 2. first page of your current WIP (novel, short story, whatever).
Captain Africa was the first superhero comic I read as a child that had someone like me in it, so it’s an honour that @tordotcom let me write about its rise, fall & impact on today’s #ownvoices superheroes from the continent. tor.com/2020/08/24/the…
Some stuff that didn’t make it into the piece:
Andy Akman, the Ghanaian creator of this comic, has gone AWOL since the comic’s disappearance. As in, absolutely no trace. Search for “Andy Akman” and every result you’ll find is people like me asking, “Where is Andy Akman?” 🤷🏾♂️
Also, though the piece focuses heavily on comics in English-speaking African (interspersed with various indigenous languages), comics also thrived on the continent in French, Portuguese and Afrikaans-speaking countries during the same period. Truly a treasure trove.
It's no secret I'm no fan of the police--any police, anywhere. Interacting with the Nigerian police teaches you early on that there's a stark difference between "policing" and "security," and these are two concepts I realise most folks seem to confuse.
A lot of policing discourse in the global sphere is usually discussed within the context of American policing and its roots in slavery. But the US police is not the only one to evolve from imperial-capitalist interests, driven by use of force.
The Nigerian police did too.
Here's the history of the NPF:
1820: Commissioner general raises force in the East
1879: Armed Hausa constabulary in the North
1888: Royal Niger Company constabulary
1894: Niger Coast constabulary, Calabar
What these constabularies have in common? Colonial interests.