How to Sell Out: The (Hidden) Cost of Being a Black Writer

by Chad Sanders

A timely, vulnerable, and cutting-edge exploration of the pressures and pitfalls of writing while Black in America in this urgently needed addition to the national conversation of race, money, and art.

In the summer of 2020, when the nation was erupting in protest over the murder of George Floyd, Chad Sanders was elated. Why? After years of struggling to get his footing as a writer, he’d finally landed a New York Times op-ed. He wrote an essay about the hollow messages of concern he’d been receiving from white friends and colleagues. It went viral, and in the years that followed, he built a solid career as a creator—of books, podcasts, TV shows, and films—by mining his most painful experiences of being Black in America.

Black pain for white money. For Sanders, this was a lucrative trade. One he thought he could work for the rest of his life. But it didn’t take long for him to realize he, like so many other writers, was getting the short end of the stick.

In How to Sell Out, Sanders draws on his personal experiences to offer a wry, darkly comic look at the invisible realities of making a living as a Black writer who writes about race. He relays stories of his time in the tech business, his experiences in TV writers’ rooms, his childhood participation in Jack and Jill, his family and relationships, and the struggles of sharing his racial trauma in exchange for cash. Combining meditations on historical and current events and the intersection of race and class with short creative essays, Sanders sculpts a freewheeling arc that is as funny as it is moving and thought-provoking.

Genres: Essays, Nonfiction, Race

256 pages, Hardcover

First published February 4, 2025

Reviews

[Elise · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thoughtful and profound. I’ve engaged with multiple Chad Sanders products (podcasts, books, socials, etc.), and this one stuck in a way some of the others didn’t. His anecdotes are poignant and serve to tell the broader narrative quite effectively, and his writing (as always) is clear and beautiful.

And while you’re at it, check out his mini podcast series, “Yearbook.” Holy shit. Enough said.

[Darby Steeves · Rating 5 out of 5]

Perfection from cover to cover.

[Farrah · Rating 3 out of 5]

Some interesting, some boring essays. Felt like a stretch for him to find content with some of them.

[lisa · Rating 2 out of 5]

The good thing about this book is that it reads fast. However, despite the self-deprecating title, I think this book took itself too seriously. I found it mostly boring since it offered a point of view I don't really care for -- a tech bro who thinks he's left capitalism behind since his new job is writer, but who can only afford to live as a writer thanks to his days as a tech bro.

It does get two stars for good writing. I was especially moved by the chapter "Welcome to the Neighborhood", since I related to it so much. Honestly, until I read this I would never have thought that straight men would ever find themselves in a situation I have been in dozens of times in my life. It was very sobering to think about, and I really admire Chad Sanders for writing about it. I also liked the chapter "Jack and Jill and The Black Elite" since I don't know much about the Jack and Jill societies. Other than that, this book was pretty forgettable.

[Doreen Blunt · Rating 5 out of 5]

I Found It Hard To Breathe Reading This

Kudos to Chad on telling his story with such honesty and truth that it felt like a shot to the chest at times.
So much of his story walked directly down my street and the stories he shared mirrored many of the experiences that I had working in Hollywood.
I will definitely have to read it again to really process all that he laid down. I would love to listen to a How To Sell Out podcast series to show what that journey to telling joyful stories (for profit and for our peace), really looks like.

[n. · Rating 3 out of 5]

at times slightly whiny or less critical than expected, wholly an average suburban black persons inner monologue. Saw myself reflected a lot but also not the parts of me im most endeared to — incredibly honest in these ways.

[Carissa · Rating 4 out of 5]

Coming up with a star review for this book feels very complicated. Do I take a star off for how repetitive and narrow I found it, despite knowing that would likely be the case going in? I'd have preferred not to read the same sentence rephrased at the beginning of every chapter like a half-assed college paper, but it's a memoir with one plainly stated motivation written by someone who, by his own admittence, typically explicates in the short-form. Am I asking too much? Probably. It's certainly (hopefully) a stylistic choice. And is it not better to leave as high a rating as possible when the general consensus seems to be that 3 stars is negative, not the neutral it clearly statistically is? I've enjoyed the book itself five stars, even if I don't think the organization and pacing is more than three stars. Meet in the middle and call it a day? 

Unfortunately, I DO have to definitively remove one star for the distinct impression that I would understand Chad Sanders far better if I just followed him on Twitter. Many of these chapters talked around an idea without confronting it head-on; I don't know what confronting it might look like, but I do know this ain't it. Memoirs aren't meant to answer major sociological problems, and I never expected this to- but I SHOULD have a deeper understanding of the author and their central topic by the end. I don't know any more or less about Chad as a person or writer at the end of How to Sell Out than I did after the first couple chapters. I understand why he's done performing black struggle for white eyes, but I don't know why he needed to write THIS specifically. I don't understand why this repetitive and spiraling collection of loosely-tied anecdotes is his magnum opus of race writing. And I don't know anything about racism in Hollywood/Silicon Valley/middle class neighborhoods I couldn't intuit / hadn't already read a million times over. I'm not saying this wasn't worth writing. I just don't get why it was written like this. Maybe I'm simply not the intended audience (rhetorical; I definitely am not). Maybe Chad's just a better editorialist than novelist. 

And yes, I am calling this strictly a memoir. It's very little else. 90% of the exposition is extrapolated personal experience.  Maybe baby's first introduction to corporate racism if I really had to reach. Good book, biting and entertaining, but NOT deep in scope or dissection. 

And yes x2 I do feel like a massive dick typing that out. Truth is truth, though. Sorry Chad. You praised outright honesty first, don't point fingers. 

The therapy chapter is especially fantastic. My critiques don't apply to Amanda Jurist. Muah. Incredible.

[Elena J · Rating 5 out of 5]

How to Sell Out: The (Hidden) Cost of Being a Black Writer by Chad Sanders is a fearless, darkly funny, and deeply human reckoning with what it means to turn pain into product and truth into currency.

Through a voice that is equal parts confessional and confrontational, Sanders dismantles the seductive myth of “representation as progress.” With razor-sharp wit and emotional precision, he explores how a creative industry hungry for Black stories often demands them only through the lens of trauma asking artists to trade authenticity for access, and voice for validation.

Drawing on his experiences across Silicon Valley, publishing, and Hollywood, Sanders exposes a cultural paradox: that success for Black writers too often comes at the cost of their own peace. His essays move seamlessly between biting satire and quiet reflection, interrogating the intersection of race, art, and capitalism with an honesty few dare to attempt.

What makes How to Sell Out remarkable isn’t just its critique it’s its compassion. Beneath the fury lies a profound longing for freedom: the freedom to create without compromise, to exist beyond the expectations of the market, and to define value on one’s own terms.

In the lineage of Kiese Laymon, Roxane Gay, and Hanif Abdurraqib, Chad Sanders delivers a work that’s both memoir and manifesto a cultural mirror held steady and unflinching. How to Sell Out doesn’t just challenge the system; it asks us to question our complicity in it.

[Poppy Mis · Rating 5 out of 5]

I am grateful that you have been generous enough to share this knowledge with me. I thoroughly enjoyed reading the article that you published on your website. In your blog article, you have provided readers with content that is both educational and engaging. One well-liked game among many others is: quordle

[Karen Carlson]

h/t npr
https://www.npr.org/2025/01/09/nx-s1-...

[Bridgette · Rating 5 out of 5]

*well-written, easy to read
*powerful message
*story keeps readers engaged from cover to cover
*highly recommend

[Teresa · Rating 5 out of 5]

Finished in a day. Chad is an incredible writer.

[Joseph Emma · Rating 3 out of 5]

"How to Sell Out: The (Hidden) Cost of Being a Black Writer" by Chad Sanders is a extremely honest look into the mind of a driven young black creative entrepreneur who moved from a successful tech career at Google to forge his path as a writer who makes his living from his writing. He says this is his last book about race and I look forward to what new topics he will develop in future writing. He speaks at length about the ‘big money lie’ that money buys freedom, equality and happiness. Of course it doesn’t but he still hopes you’ll buy his book. Overall a really interesting and educational story of how black creatives face unique challenges. I learned a lot about upper middle class black life in America as well as how it takes enormous effort to create a career as a ‘creative’ whatever your race or medium of expression.

[Ashley : bostieslovebooks]

Thanks Simon & Schuster for the gifted ARC book.

There’s a vulnerability to Sander’s writing and combing that with the topics of race and class makes this a compelling read. Some essays offered more introspection and societal critique than others. Some felt repetitive and detracted a bit from the overall narrative. In total, this was a thought-provoking read. I’m interested in reading his prior work.