Empowering Marginalized Voices in Publishing + Book Recs
Interview with KaToya Ellis Fleming, Editor of Lookout Books
“Publishers owe it to authors and publishing professionals to make sure these efforts toward equity and inclusion are made in good faith...”
KaToya Ellis Fleming is the editor of Lookout Books and an assistant professor of publishing arts at the University of North Carolina Wilmington. She holds a BA in English from Spelman College and an MFA in Narrative Nonfiction from the University of Georgia. She’s currently at work on her debut nonfiction book entitled Finding Frank, an excerpt from which was published in the Spring 2020 issue of the Oxford American. Her words have additionally appeared in the Georgia Review, The Rumpus, and elsewhere.
You can find KaToya on X: @katoya3000
“Every rejection gets you closer to your YES.”
JUSTINE
What has your journey as a writer and editor been like, and what was behind the decisions that you made to get to where you are today?
KATOYA
I’ve been a writer my whole life, for as long as I can remember. I've always been in awe of language and the magic of its infinite possibilities. Throughout my life, I’ve been fortunate to have a community of people who encouraged my goal to pursue writing as a career, instead of dismissing it as impractical. So I’ve always been able to make professional and educational choices that kept me focused on the scholarship of literature and practicing the craft.
Funny story about becoming an editor, though—I didn’t know I wanted to be one. At least not at first. Part of my identity as a writer is that I am a compulsive self-editor. I used to be a little intimidated by the editorial process so I wanted to know what it looked like from the other side. So I took every opportunity to learn about all the moving parts in the editorial process, from acquisitions to copyediting and everything in between.
At the same time that I was demystifying the editing process for myself and learning how to improve my own work, I was discovering a passion and an aptitude for advocating for other authors and helping them make their stories the best versions of themselves.
Ultimately, that led me to a position where I get to explore the best of all worlds—I get to write, acquire and edit books, and as a publishing professor, I’m able to empower aspiring publishing professionals with the industry knowledge they’ll need to become productive literary citizens.
JUSTINE
What does the world of publishing look like today for marginalized writers?
KATOYA
Publishing is a notoriously difficult industry to break into. Not only can the path to publication or to an industry job vary from person to person, but the roadmap to get on the path in the first place can be confusing and opaque. The fact that it’s also a disproportionately white space makes it that much harder for a person of color to navigate.
The latest data shows that the industry overall is about 73% white and about 69% cisgender and heterosexual. These numbers are somehow both surprising and unsurprising.
It’s easy to see the successes of a few very visible people and assume that they are representative of the whole but in reality, the literary community is small and the percentage of marginalized folx within it is miniscule. So it’s not hopeless, but it can be isolating and far more difficult than it should be.
JUSTINE
What has your experience been in the publishing industry as a black woman, both as a writer and as an editor?
KATOYA
As a writer, I’ve had my share of uncomfortable experiences with editors. I think part of the reason I used to be wary of being edited was because of the many times I had been asked by editors to dilute my voice, or explain my vernacular, or code switch in order to make my point-of-view palatable. I feel lucky not to have been discouraged by these unhealthy editorial relationships and thankfully, I’ve also had some really enriching experiences with editors—life-changing experiences. Both the good and the bad led me to conclude what kind of editor I wanted to be.
As editor at a renowned independent press, and one of the few Black lead editors in the country, I feel like I am uniquely positioned to advocate for marginalized writers and give them a platform from which to tell their truths.
So far, that experience has been so fulfilling, so uplifting, and it has widened my community exponentially. It’s also necessary work that I absolutely do not take for granted. I feel it’s what is required of me in this role and I intend to continue being a lighthouse for writers of color and other marginalized groups.
JUSTINE
What responsibility does the publishing industry have towards marginalized writers?
KATOYA
How much time do you have? I’ll try to give a short answer, though I really don’t think there is one. The racial reckoning in the country after the murder of George Floyd in 2020, coupled with the public callout of the inequities in the publishing industry that were exposed through efforts like #PublishingPaidMe, led many publishers to make statements about their commitments to diversity—which, if implemented, would include hiring more diverse employees and acquiring books from more authors with diverse backgrounds—which is a small (but incomplete) step in the right direction.
The question is whether or not these small steps have the ability to effect big change. And it remains to be seen whether these diversity initiatives will survive the current backlash against DEI programs.
Publishers owe it to authors and publishing professionals to make sure these efforts toward equity and inclusion are made in good faith, and that they are not merely symbolic but lead to actual institutional change. They should also ensure that these efforts don’t eventually fizzle out as has historically been the case.
JUSTINE
What advice do you have for marginalized writers looking to get published?
KATOYA
Yes, this is a tough industry but keep writing anyway. Don’t let anything divorce you from your belief that your story deserves to be told. And don’t be afraid to tell your truth.
Read and read widely. If you don’t read you are denying yourself some of the best lessons you’ll ever learn as a writer (and as a human).
And as I often tell my students (or myself when I need a pep talk)—it only takes one ‘yes’. Every rejection—spoiler alert: you’re going get some—gets you closer to your ‘yes.’