What do you think?
Rate this book
Black Women Writers at Work
Through candid interviews with Maya Angelou, Toni Cade Bambara, Gwendolyn Brooks, Alexis De Veaux, Nikki Giovanni, Kristin Hunter, Gayl Jones, Audre Lorde, Toni Morrison, Sonia Sanchez, Ntozake Shange, Alice Walker, Margaret Walker, and Sherley Anne Williams, the book highlights the practices and critical linkages between the work and lived experiences of Black women writers whose work laid the foundation for many who have come after.
Responding to questions about why and for whom they write, and how they perceive their responsibility to their work, to others, and to society, the featured playwrights, poets, novelists, and essayists provide a window into the connections between their lives and their art.
Finally available for a new generation, this classic work has an urgent message for readers and writers today.
Responding to questions about why and for whom they write, and how they perceive their responsibility to their work, to others, and to society, the featured playwrights, poets, novelists, and essayists provide a window into the connections between their lives and their art.
Finally available for a new generation, this classic work has an urgent message for readers and writers today.
312 pages, Paperback
First published May 1, 1983
161 people are currently reading
2722 people want to read
About the author
Claudia Tate
13 books23 followersClaudia Tate (December 14, 1947 – July 29, 2002) was a noted literary critic and professor of English and African American Studies at Princeton University. She is credited with moving African-American literary criticism into the realm of the psychological.
(from Wikipedia)
(from Wikipedia)
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 56 reviews
November 5, 2011
I love Toni Morrison's take on "writer's block:
"When I sit down in order to write, sometimes it's there; sometimes it's not. But that doesn't bother me anymore. I tell my students there is such a thing as 'writer's block,' and they should respect it. You shouldn't write through it. It's blocked because it ought to be blocked, because you haven't got it right now. All the frustration and nuttiness that comes from 'Oh, my God, I cannot write now' should be displaced. It's just a message to you saying, 'That's right, you can't writer now, so don't.' We operate with deadlines, so facing the anxiety about the block has become a way of life. We get frightened about the fear. I can't write like that. If i don't have anything to say for three or four months, I just don't write. When I read a book, I can always tell if the writer has written through a block. If he or she had just waited, it would've been better or different, or a little more natural. You can see the seams.
"When I sit down in order to write, sometimes it's there; sometimes it's not. But that doesn't bother me anymore. I tell my students there is such a thing as 'writer's block,' and they should respect it. You shouldn't write through it. It's blocked because it ought to be blocked, because you haven't got it right now. All the frustration and nuttiness that comes from 'Oh, my God, I cannot write now' should be displaced. It's just a message to you saying, 'That's right, you can't writer now, so don't.' We operate with deadlines, so facing the anxiety about the block has become a way of life. We get frightened about the fear. I can't write like that. If i don't have anything to say for three or four months, I just don't write. When I read a book, I can always tell if the writer has written through a block. If he or she had just waited, it would've been better or different, or a little more natural. You can see the seams.
January 4, 2011
This book changed my writing life, my whole concept of myself as a Black woman writer at work.
March 20, 2025
It’s like being a part of an elite writers’ salon.
April 1, 2023
Originally published in 1987, this collection of interviews conducted by Claudia Tate with fourteen prominent black women writers is enlightening, eye opening and fascinating. Of the fourteen authors I had only previously read work by Toni Morrison, Alice Walker and Audre Lorde and of the others I was only aware of four. However, after reading these interviews all these authors are ones I want to explore further, in fact it was those I was less aware of that seemed to make the most impression on me, Ntozake Shange, Sonia Sanchez and Alexis de Veaux for example.
Most of the questions asked are the same or similar for each author and include, what is your writing process and inspiration? how do you fit writing into your lives? what do you think of the criticism of your work? what does being black and female mean for that writing? There is also a frequent question about the difference between male and female black writers and particularly in reference to Ntozake Shange’s play For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow is Enuf and Michelle Wallace’s Black Macho and the Myth of the Superwoman. Usually, the simple answer is that men write about ideas and big topics while women write about reality and the here and now but each author expands on this in different ways.
There is discussion of whether what the women write is, or should be, from their own experience, as well as the fact that none of the writers consider themselves in competition with other writers and how several are part of writing collectives. They talk about the sixties civil rights movements and how things have or have not changed since then and about each other’s writing. Some of the authors will give short no nonsense answers, other only require one question to give an essay and Tate lets them speak. You can hear the different women’s voices and get the feeling the interviews were not censored too much, even when the authors get irritated with Tate which happens quite frequently. Gwendolyn Brooks and Nikki Giovanni, for example, give her short shrift with her ‘boring’ questions.
For my own memory of the book, I noted down examples of things each author spoke about. Maya Angelou, for example, talked about how black women were leaders in their communities, not like white women who were kept out of institutions and how she wrote autobiography because she was told she could not, while Toni Cade Bambara seems prophetic in her idea of the world, ‘that equates criticism with assault, that equates social responsibility with naive idealism, that defines the unrelenting pursuit of knowledge and wisdom as fanaticism.’ I loved Bambara’s description of her writing process and as with all the authors she says that her writing is for herself whether it gets published or not. As Sonia Sanchez says, ‘I probably have not killed anyone in America because I write,’ Alice Walker that ‘if you really thought about the market, you would probably just take a job canning fish.’
Gwendolyn Brooks discusses criticism and how white male critics are not interested in white woman writers let alone black ones – something Nikki Giovanni echoes -and quotes several passages from her poems. Toni Morrison also talks about criticism being dishonest in that it does not address the work on its own terms but how it relates to a white writer, to white tradition. Morrison also says how anyone ‘can think up a story. But trying to breathe life into characters, allow them space, make them people who I care about is hard.’ She speaks of the obviously painstaking process of her writing, her use of language in subtle and precise ways and how she hopes readers get out of it what she intended to put into it but if they do not, that is her fault as a writer for not making it clear.
Alexis de Veaux speaks about the difficulty of placing her lesbian pieces in some black journals because these are not seen as legitimate or appropriate black experiences to portray, something that Audre Lorde echoes. Lorde also says that the black community needs to embrace difference and not bow down to an idea of what ‘blackness’ is, that unity does not mean ‘sameness’, how the fact she can’t be categorized is her strength and that she writes for ‘those women who do not speak’ as someone who didn’t speak herself until she was five. Her interview was probably one of the most powerful.
The poet Sonia Sanchez says how certain topics have been rewarded to the detriment of others, for example, black women as victims rather than revolution or politics that do not serve America as a whole and how the way in which black women wear their hair is a political statement. Her fellow poet Nikki Giovanni says that ‘poetry is the most mistaught subject in any school’ and that most of the books on the Nobel and Pulitizer prize list are ‘shit’ because they are chosen for their safety.
Kristin Hunter talks about how starting to write is harder than anything else, how she wants to recreate a world she knows ‘into a world I wish I could be in’, is committed to ‘telling the truth’ in her writing and that the myth of a superwoman isn’t good for anyone while Gayl Jones addresses the male female difference in writing, audiences’ reactions to her work and how she is ‘not interested in normal characters’. This is something that Ntozake Shange echoes when she says that her female characters are strange but how she appreciates their differences. Shange also says she does not like going to see performances of her plays and that women and men see the world differently, ‘in a way that allows us to care more about people than about military power.’ She speaks of refusing to be part of a ‘conspiracy of silence’ that pretends awful things like rape and poverty do not exist, the dangers of losing interpersonal relations to machines.
We see Alice Walker talking of the way in which black women writers support one another so much and how writing allows her to be ‘more than I am,’ and Margaret Walker of the struggles in her teaching life where once she got to a certain level she was replaced by a man and her history with Richard Wright. Sherley Anne Williams speaks about blues as an historical continuity for black people, how important reader feedback is to her, how writers should be able to inhabit and project different voices other than their own.
As I hope is abundantly clear, the book is an excellent record of showing where black women’s writing stood in the eighties when all these women were at different points in their careers. It shows a picture of the publishing market at the time and the perception of black women’s writing overall as well as revealing something of the women behind many wonderful novels and poems. If you have ever read any of these authors or think you may want to in the future, this is a book that can only add to that experience.
Most of the questions asked are the same or similar for each author and include, what is your writing process and inspiration? how do you fit writing into your lives? what do you think of the criticism of your work? what does being black and female mean for that writing? There is also a frequent question about the difference between male and female black writers and particularly in reference to Ntozake Shange’s play For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow is Enuf and Michelle Wallace’s Black Macho and the Myth of the Superwoman. Usually, the simple answer is that men write about ideas and big topics while women write about reality and the here and now but each author expands on this in different ways.
There is discussion of whether what the women write is, or should be, from their own experience, as well as the fact that none of the writers consider themselves in competition with other writers and how several are part of writing collectives. They talk about the sixties civil rights movements and how things have or have not changed since then and about each other’s writing. Some of the authors will give short no nonsense answers, other only require one question to give an essay and Tate lets them speak. You can hear the different women’s voices and get the feeling the interviews were not censored too much, even when the authors get irritated with Tate which happens quite frequently. Gwendolyn Brooks and Nikki Giovanni, for example, give her short shrift with her ‘boring’ questions.
For my own memory of the book, I noted down examples of things each author spoke about. Maya Angelou, for example, talked about how black women were leaders in their communities, not like white women who were kept out of institutions and how she wrote autobiography because she was told she could not, while Toni Cade Bambara seems prophetic in her idea of the world, ‘that equates criticism with assault, that equates social responsibility with naive idealism, that defines the unrelenting pursuit of knowledge and wisdom as fanaticism.’ I loved Bambara’s description of her writing process and as with all the authors she says that her writing is for herself whether it gets published or not. As Sonia Sanchez says, ‘I probably have not killed anyone in America because I write,’ Alice Walker that ‘if you really thought about the market, you would probably just take a job canning fish.’
Gwendolyn Brooks discusses criticism and how white male critics are not interested in white woman writers let alone black ones – something Nikki Giovanni echoes -and quotes several passages from her poems. Toni Morrison also talks about criticism being dishonest in that it does not address the work on its own terms but how it relates to a white writer, to white tradition. Morrison also says how anyone ‘can think up a story. But trying to breathe life into characters, allow them space, make them people who I care about is hard.’ She speaks of the obviously painstaking process of her writing, her use of language in subtle and precise ways and how she hopes readers get out of it what she intended to put into it but if they do not, that is her fault as a writer for not making it clear.
Alexis de Veaux speaks about the difficulty of placing her lesbian pieces in some black journals because these are not seen as legitimate or appropriate black experiences to portray, something that Audre Lorde echoes. Lorde also says that the black community needs to embrace difference and not bow down to an idea of what ‘blackness’ is, that unity does not mean ‘sameness’, how the fact she can’t be categorized is her strength and that she writes for ‘those women who do not speak’ as someone who didn’t speak herself until she was five. Her interview was probably one of the most powerful.
The poet Sonia Sanchez says how certain topics have been rewarded to the detriment of others, for example, black women as victims rather than revolution or politics that do not serve America as a whole and how the way in which black women wear their hair is a political statement. Her fellow poet Nikki Giovanni says that ‘poetry is the most mistaught subject in any school’ and that most of the books on the Nobel and Pulitizer prize list are ‘shit’ because they are chosen for their safety.
Kristin Hunter talks about how starting to write is harder than anything else, how she wants to recreate a world she knows ‘into a world I wish I could be in’, is committed to ‘telling the truth’ in her writing and that the myth of a superwoman isn’t good for anyone while Gayl Jones addresses the male female difference in writing, audiences’ reactions to her work and how she is ‘not interested in normal characters’. This is something that Ntozake Shange echoes when she says that her female characters are strange but how she appreciates their differences. Shange also says she does not like going to see performances of her plays and that women and men see the world differently, ‘in a way that allows us to care more about people than about military power.’ She speaks of refusing to be part of a ‘conspiracy of silence’ that pretends awful things like rape and poverty do not exist, the dangers of losing interpersonal relations to machines.
We see Alice Walker talking of the way in which black women writers support one another so much and how writing allows her to be ‘more than I am,’ and Margaret Walker of the struggles in her teaching life where once she got to a certain level she was replaced by a man and her history with Richard Wright. Sherley Anne Williams speaks about blues as an historical continuity for black people, how important reader feedback is to her, how writers should be able to inhabit and project different voices other than their own.
As I hope is abundantly clear, the book is an excellent record of showing where black women’s writing stood in the eighties when all these women were at different points in their careers. It shows a picture of the publishing market at the time and the perception of black women’s writing overall as well as revealing something of the women behind many wonderful novels and poems. If you have ever read any of these authors or think you may want to in the future, this is a book that can only add to that experience.
January 2, 2023
I read the new reissued version from Haymarket Books in a fevered rush that I can only compare to how I inhaled Harlequin romances as a pre-teen. The wisdom amassed here, even with some dated references, is immense. The dated references are mostly related to reactions to Michelle Wallace’s Black Macho & eviscerating reviews/assessments of it, along with the mixed, and deeply misogynist response Ntozake Shange had to endure after for colored girls changed Broadway for Black women’s stories. I think there are valid observations about what we - writers - have to contend with when we devote ourselves to craft for anyone, but the particular perspective of Black women in conversation with one another and each other’s work is so affirming and inspiring.
November 25, 2016
This is a wonderful collection of interviews, published in 1983, which include some iconic writers I have recently read and loved, such as Maya Angelou, Audre Lorde, Toni Morrison and Alice Walker. Their writing approaches were fascinating to me, but what really struck me was the way so many of them emphasized their responsibility as writers.
Audre Lorde put it simply, “My responsibility is to speak the truth as I feel it, and to attempt to speak it with as much precision and beauty as possible.”
Maya Angelou, not surprisingly, raises the bar in this stunning statement: “My responsibility as a writer is to be as good as I can be at my craft. So I study my craft. I don’t simply write what I feel, let it all hang out. That’s baloney. That’s no craft at all. Learning the craft, understanding what language can do, gaining control of the language, enables one to make people weep, make them laugh, even make them go to war. You can do this by learning how to harness the power of the word. So studying my craft is one of my responsibilities. The other is to be as good a human being as I possibly can be so that once I have achieved control of the language, I don’t force my weaknesses on a public who might then pick them up and abuse themselves.”
These are some smart, creative and caring human beings who happen to also be immensely talented writers. Inspiring.
Audre Lorde put it simply, “My responsibility is to speak the truth as I feel it, and to attempt to speak it with as much precision and beauty as possible.”
Maya Angelou, not surprisingly, raises the bar in this stunning statement: “My responsibility as a writer is to be as good as I can be at my craft. So I study my craft. I don’t simply write what I feel, let it all hang out. That’s baloney. That’s no craft at all. Learning the craft, understanding what language can do, gaining control of the language, enables one to make people weep, make them laugh, even make them go to war. You can do this by learning how to harness the power of the word. So studying my craft is one of my responsibilities. The other is to be as good a human being as I possibly can be so that once I have achieved control of the language, I don’t force my weaknesses on a public who might then pick them up and abuse themselves.”
These are some smart, creative and caring human beings who happen to also be immensely talented writers. Inspiring.
August 30, 2025
These interviews provided interesting snapshots in time, both on personal levels and the larger cultures these women were writing in. I was familiar with quite a few writers, some by reading work, others by their reputations, but there were still plenty l didn't really know. For the most part, I didn't need to be familiar with the women or their works to get the gist of what was being expressed, but it definitely helped to take notes and look up some events/concepts/references later. I'm glad I picked up the reprint!
February 14, 2023
Wish I could rate it higher. This is one of the most important books I’ve ever read.
April 2, 2024
“i think that we writers should get out there, even if we are wrong 99 percent of the time. That 1 percent would be enough to give us some insight, but it takes a lot to get out there.
Somebody has to be first to take all the flak. We have to stop being afraid. I have to stop being afraid of being wrong; I can't wait until everything is perfect before the work comes out. I don't have that kind of time.”
- sherley anne williams
Somebody has to be first to take all the flak. We have to stop being afraid. I have to stop being afraid of being wrong; I can't wait until everything is perfect before the work comes out. I don't have that kind of time.”
- sherley anne williams
July 28, 2024
This collection made me want to read poetry. Like really read it — feel it, breathe it, live it. I’ve never been a big poetry person, mainly because I never felt I was the target audience. But many of these women who I listened to so deeply express similar opinions as mine, are poets. Maybe one day I can be a poet, or a writer? Or maybe not, but after reading these interviews it feels I could do anything. 4/5
January 24, 2023
i am a better writer, scholar, and participant in society after having read this book. such an astonishing collection of mediations on not just writing, but society and LIFE from some of the greatest minds of human history. there is such an incredible RANGE of voices here - each writer had something unique and personal to offer. my copy is now densely annotated and i am continuing to copy quotes and journal about them. i did not expect to feel so emotional after almost every interview, but this book really gave me something (multiple things really) that i deeply deeply needed. this book is now near and dear to my heart. i will be revisiting and referencing it for many many years to come.
thank you SOOO much to haymarket for bringing this back in print. i simply cannot believe it was unavailable for so long.
thank you SOOO much to haymarket for bringing this back in print. i simply cannot believe it was unavailable for so long.
April 16, 2019
i really took my time with this one - not because it wasn’t engaging, but it is a work to be savored and carefully digested. i enjoyed hearing from so many writers in their own words and grappling with what it means to write and the implications and consequences brought on by their perceived and self-defined gender and racial/socio-economic place in society. it’s also a gift to bear witness to the self-conceptualization of writers who have now solidified their place in the canon. Ntozake Shange and Audre Lorde’s chapters were highlights. for those interested in a history of black american letters, there are several references to out of print and rare texts from a broad range of writers in the collection. a welcome bonus!
July 23, 2020
A brazen and valiant collage of Black women writers’ interviews that I hope returns to print soon because these are urgent times and these are urgent musings on the Black radical folkloric/literary tradition.
Selected writers from Toni Cade Bambara to Margaret Walker vitalized my heart for literature and offered concise yet generous critiques of their own work as well as that of other writers.
Portions responding to the virginal purities of white womanhood as well as the violences wreaked upon Black women by both black men and white men were swollen with emotion and utterly moored.
Personal vignettes of their interior lives pepper the interviews rather well.
It feels like being taken back to the very beginnings of literature as a domain; to all who were originally excluded from it.
Selected writers from Toni Cade Bambara to Margaret Walker vitalized my heart for literature and offered concise yet generous critiques of their own work as well as that of other writers.
Portions responding to the virginal purities of white womanhood as well as the violences wreaked upon Black women by both black men and white men were swollen with emotion and utterly moored.
Personal vignettes of their interior lives pepper the interviews rather well.
It feels like being taken back to the very beginnings of literature as a domain; to all who were originally excluded from it.
April 1, 2019
I was moved with both recognition, and with fear, again, at Audre Lorde's comment that "it's scary because we've been through that before. It was called the fifties. Then I was moved with that stirring to act, upon reading in print what I have known and been told in different words since Dunbar (High School): "My responsibility is to speak the truth... with as much precision and beauty as possible. ... We've been taught that silence would save us, but it won't."
And we must not remain silent while the blood of our sisters/brothers/neighbors/communities/fellow human beings is shed.
Sherley Anne Williams reiterates this responsibility of a writer to write as well as one can and to "say as much of the truth as I can see at any given time."
Although this book is dated, and does not include my favorite author (Octavia Butler), I am so glad that I read this book in spite of my initial misgivings. From Bambara's hope that "We care too much ... to negotiate a bogus peace," to DeVeaux's "responsibility to see," I find my own compulsion to write validated by the responsibility of a writer to render individual expression into a universal expression, and to give voice to the voiceless/unseen/erased. To show the unspoken and to "empathize with the general human condition."
Society needs all perspectives because without those perspectives, we are missing vast parts of what our society actually looks like, which leads to deep problems. Writing, as was pointed out, must transcend individual experience, but it also comes from and is filtered through individual experience, so we desperately need every point of view.
And we must not remain silent while the blood of our sisters/brothers/neighbors/communities/fellow human beings is shed.
Sherley Anne Williams reiterates this responsibility of a writer to write as well as one can and to "say as much of the truth as I can see at any given time."
Although this book is dated, and does not include my favorite author (Octavia Butler), I am so glad that I read this book in spite of my initial misgivings. From Bambara's hope that "We care too much ... to negotiate a bogus peace," to DeVeaux's "responsibility to see," I find my own compulsion to write validated by the responsibility of a writer to render individual expression into a universal expression, and to give voice to the voiceless/unseen/erased. To show the unspoken and to "empathize with the general human condition."
Society needs all perspectives because without those perspectives, we are missing vast parts of what our society actually looks like, which leads to deep problems. Writing, as was pointed out, must transcend individual experience, but it also comes from and is filtered through individual experience, so we desperately need every point of view.
August 2, 2025
4 - 4.5 stars. Admittedly, this book took me several months to get through. I had to get used to reading a series of interviews in book form. That said, it's a real treasure to read the opinions of the greatest writers of a generation, and I value that very much. I'm also quite tickled that several of the women threw shade at Claudia Tate, the interviewer. Apparently, her line of questioning wasn't always up to their standards. Love how the personalities shine through here!
February 2, 2024
This collection of interviews were EYE opening. So glad they were reprinted!
July 28, 2023
Such a wide breadth of writing styles and perspectives explored between these authors! A couple of the authors I was completely unfamiliar with and look forward to reading. A lot of brilliance here, some sections felt unnecessary but these interviews were not conducted for me so I’m ultimately just thankful to have heard them. Unapologetically Black women who are Incredibly! Smart!
July 4, 2023
truly a gift, so rich and insightful. expect to return to it often
October 9, 2025
audiobook — absolutely incredible
June 16, 2013
I need to own this. Period.
February 27, 2023
I absolutely loved this book. Originally released in 1985 and reprinted in 2023 by Haymarket this book is a collection of interviews with some of the greatest contemporary writers of the 1950s-80s including Maya Angelous, Toni Morrison, Nikki Giovanni, Audre Lorde, Sonia Sanchez, Toni Cade Bambara and more. Don't be fooled by the title - this book has so much to offer even if you're not a writer (I'm not). I underlined and tabbed that thang up! I also found myself Googling and discovering so many other authors (and historical tea). Speaking of tea - can we talk about that Margaret Walker chapter?! She had me looking up court cases and all kinds of things. I thought Nikki Giovanni's chapter was hilarious because she did not miss a chance to tell the interviewer her questions or the things she asked about were boring. And her response to Kirkus' reviews of one of her books is now my new life mantra "If Kirkus never reviews another book of mine I'll be more than happy. My life is not bound in anything that sells for $5.95. And it never will be." LOLOLOL.
Funny parts aside, the book also gave me a critical lens to understand literature and the publishing business. Sonia Sanchez talks about how the publishing industry controls and contorts what's seen as intellectual Black thought. In discussing the transition from the 60s and 70s to the 80s, she says "certain themes were rewards; others were ignored. And since writers want recognition, many would not talk directly about social change; they would not necessarily talk about what America had done, but would turn inward and begin to talk about victimization."
Toni Cade Bambara resonated the most in terms of lessons I want to take into my life as a free Black woman. She says, "I'm not committed to any notion of 'career'...I don't feel obliged to structure my life in respectably routine ways." She implores us to "maintain a loose grip, a flexible grasp on those assumptions we hold to be true, valid, real. They may not be." She reminded me to continue to be a critical reader and participant in not only literature but the world around me and how it shapes my perceptions of reality. Nikki Giovanni reminds me to allow myself to grow, change, and adapt as I explore and am presented with new and different information about the world. She says "If I never contradict myself then I'm either not thinking or I'm conciliating positions and, therefore, not growing...There would be no point to having me go three-fourths of the way around the world if I couldn't create an inconsistency, if I hadn't learned anything."
As a creator and entrepreneur I got a lot of gems about the creative space and allowing myself to be a vessel and conduit. To allow ideas to come to me, trust the process and its ebbs and flows. Toni Morrison says "There is such a thing as 'writer's block,' and they should respect it. You shouldn't write through it. It's blocked because it ought to be blocked, because you haven't got it right now." It is a personal reminder not to let the demands of capitalism - deadlines, performance, etc. override the natural signals that your body is giving you. You have to give your creativity space to breathe. She later says "Ideas can't come to me when I'm preoccupied...in that situation of disengagement with the day-to-day rush, something positive happened...it's exactly what Guitar said: when you release all the shit, then you can fly."
For me, embedded across the interviews is a nod to the importance of community and legacy. These women weren't just contemporaries, but engaged and supportive colleagues. They read, responded to, edited, and promoted each other's work. They were in critical conversation with each other even if they didn't always agree. They were committed to leaving bread crumbs and clearing pathways for the women writers to follow them. For that I am grateful.
Funny parts aside, the book also gave me a critical lens to understand literature and the publishing business. Sonia Sanchez talks about how the publishing industry controls and contorts what's seen as intellectual Black thought. In discussing the transition from the 60s and 70s to the 80s, she says "certain themes were rewards; others were ignored. And since writers want recognition, many would not talk directly about social change; they would not necessarily talk about what America had done, but would turn inward and begin to talk about victimization."
Toni Cade Bambara resonated the most in terms of lessons I want to take into my life as a free Black woman. She says, "I'm not committed to any notion of 'career'...I don't feel obliged to structure my life in respectably routine ways." She implores us to "maintain a loose grip, a flexible grasp on those assumptions we hold to be true, valid, real. They may not be." She reminded me to continue to be a critical reader and participant in not only literature but the world around me and how it shapes my perceptions of reality. Nikki Giovanni reminds me to allow myself to grow, change, and adapt as I explore and am presented with new and different information about the world. She says "If I never contradict myself then I'm either not thinking or I'm conciliating positions and, therefore, not growing...There would be no point to having me go three-fourths of the way around the world if I couldn't create an inconsistency, if I hadn't learned anything."
As a creator and entrepreneur I got a lot of gems about the creative space and allowing myself to be a vessel and conduit. To allow ideas to come to me, trust the process and its ebbs and flows. Toni Morrison says "There is such a thing as 'writer's block,' and they should respect it. You shouldn't write through it. It's blocked because it ought to be blocked, because you haven't got it right now." It is a personal reminder not to let the demands of capitalism - deadlines, performance, etc. override the natural signals that your body is giving you. You have to give your creativity space to breathe. She later says "Ideas can't come to me when I'm preoccupied...in that situation of disengagement with the day-to-day rush, something positive happened...it's exactly what Guitar said: when you release all the shit, then you can fly."
For me, embedded across the interviews is a nod to the importance of community and legacy. These women weren't just contemporaries, but engaged and supportive colleagues. They read, responded to, edited, and promoted each other's work. They were in critical conversation with each other even if they didn't always agree. They were committed to leaving bread crumbs and clearing pathways for the women writers to follow them. For that I am grateful.
Read
July 21, 2023Oh, this is very academic, which I wasn't expecting! It definitely feels like reading that might be assigned to you at school, especially because Tate asks specific questions about the authors' work that might go over your head if you don't have their books or poems handy.
That being said, this is really interesting. I think there are lots of topics that are *still* discussed by authors today. Like Ntozake Shange talked about how people told her it was harder to sell her work because there was no "point" or anything to teach, but that white people could create stories that had no point to them! I still feel that way very much when it comes to multiple categories of art that Black people create!
I also thought it was super helpful to read about how the different writers dealt with critics, their writing routines, and just generally about their craft. A lot of Black authors complain about how they aren't asked craft questions the way white authors are, and this book made me realize that they are very right because I am not used to seeing this much discussion about word choice, themes, etc.
I loved Toni Morrison talking about how she didn't write for anyone but herself. As someone who gets more and more anxious about what people will think the more I write, the responses from these authors were really helpful. I also loved Morrison's mention that writer's block is real and that, if you're feeling a block, it's for a reason and you should take the time away. I feel like so many people don't believe writer's block exists, and Morrison saying she just doesn't write if she has nothing to say was sort of... a relief, especially when it feels like we're all hustling.
That being said, I noticed that every single person in this book was a professor or worked at a university (I'm pretty sure it was everyone). I can't tell if this is specific to Black women writers in the 80s or this group or writers in general. But judging by the way they spoke, their writing methods, and their subject matter, it makes sense that they would need stable jobs if they couldn't depend on their writing that way. It made me think about how many writers can't really depend on solely writing today, except I feel like there's maybe more expected (?) But it made me think of Nikyatu Jusu saying that she doesn't want to stop teaching because it adds a lot to her life, which several authors here said, too.
One thing that was kind of hard to get into are the questions about whether the 70s and 80s are less radical than the 60s. It's definitely a time capsule, but it was also pretty depressing to think about how little has changed. Also... I hated that the author kept asking about gender issues. Or I guess I didn't hate it. I think it was good to bring it up! But some of the answers made me cringe. There was a lot of, "Let's come together and not accuse our men of anything!" Audre Lorde's answers were great! But I wasn't super interested in whether black men or women write differently or what makes you as a black women write the way you do. I was more interested in the rest.
I'm really glad this is back in print so that people can refer to this interviews and the wisdom in them. I definitely dog eared some pages and am glad to have them to come back to.
That being said, this is really interesting. I think there are lots of topics that are *still* discussed by authors today. Like Ntozake Shange talked about how people told her it was harder to sell her work because there was no "point" or anything to teach, but that white people could create stories that had no point to them! I still feel that way very much when it comes to multiple categories of art that Black people create!
I also thought it was super helpful to read about how the different writers dealt with critics, their writing routines, and just generally about their craft. A lot of Black authors complain about how they aren't asked craft questions the way white authors are, and this book made me realize that they are very right because I am not used to seeing this much discussion about word choice, themes, etc.
I loved Toni Morrison talking about how she didn't write for anyone but herself. As someone who gets more and more anxious about what people will think the more I write, the responses from these authors were really helpful. I also loved Morrison's mention that writer's block is real and that, if you're feeling a block, it's for a reason and you should take the time away. I feel like so many people don't believe writer's block exists, and Morrison saying she just doesn't write if she has nothing to say was sort of... a relief, especially when it feels like we're all hustling.
That being said, I noticed that every single person in this book was a professor or worked at a university (I'm pretty sure it was everyone). I can't tell if this is specific to Black women writers in the 80s or this group or writers in general. But judging by the way they spoke, their writing methods, and their subject matter, it makes sense that they would need stable jobs if they couldn't depend on their writing that way. It made me think about how many writers can't really depend on solely writing today, except I feel like there's maybe more expected (?) But it made me think of Nikyatu Jusu saying that she doesn't want to stop teaching because it adds a lot to her life, which several authors here said, too.
One thing that was kind of hard to get into are the questions about whether the 70s and 80s are less radical than the 60s. It's definitely a time capsule, but it was also pretty depressing to think about how little has changed. Also... I hated that the author kept asking about gender issues. Or I guess I didn't hate it. I think it was good to bring it up! But some of the answers made me cringe. There was a lot of, "Let's come together and not accuse our men of anything!" Audre Lorde's answers were great! But I wasn't super interested in whether black men or women write differently or what makes you as a black women write the way you do. I was more interested in the rest.
I'm really glad this is back in print so that people can refer to this interviews and the wisdom in them. I definitely dog eared some pages and am glad to have them to come back to.
March 20, 2025
My appreciation of this book likely would have been deeper had I been more familiar with the specific works mentioned throughout or had more context for some of the controversies gripping the Black literary community in the ‘60s and ‘70s (e.g., I had no clue that Michelle Wallace’s “Black Macho and the Myth of the Superwoman” was such a hot-button book!), but I still really enjoyed this read. Some interviews were less gripping than others, and I did grow tired of the editor/interviewer’s solicitation of broad generalizations about Black female vs. male writers from the interviewees (though their responses were mostly still interesting and nuanced). Ultimately, I was grateful for the glimpses these conversations provided into the minds of some of our greatest, particularly as a Black woman writer (hoping to soon be) at work myself. I’ll def give this a reread after spending a year or two deep diving into the oeuvres of the featured writers!
Ntozake Shange was one of the writers with whom I was most familiar (having now read a play, novel, and poetry collection of hers), and her chapter was unquestionably my favorite. Here are a couple standout quotes:
- “I did not want the book to be something you could put down when it got too emotional. […] I don’t like being given the opportunity to stop and say: I’ve had enough; I want to go do something else. How can you have enough of someone’s life? They’re living it. As far as I’m concerned a character’s living a life. She can’t stop and go do something else; so you can’t stop and do something else. […] Aborting emotional breakthroughs allows one to keep one’s decorum at all moments. Our society allows people to be absolutely neurotic and totally out of touch with their feelings and everyone else’s feelings, and yet be very respectable. This, to me, is a travesty.”
- “I’m trying to change the idea of seeing emotions and intellect as distinct faculties. […] I have not segmented thinking from feeling. [‘flying song’] is a love poem, and it’s about poverty, racism, and imperialism, […] but it’s a love poem. It’s not a didactic love poem. It’s simply that when I love somebody, I want my beloved in a world where those things aren’t occurring. So I have to tell my beloved: these are the things I don’t want you to have to deal with.”
- “‘What was the point of such-and-such?’ I kept saying: ‘Didn’t you have some feelings while you were reading it?’ And they said that they had a lot of feelings. So I said, ‘That was the point!’ […] All of my work is just an exploration of people’s lives. So there isn’t any point. There are just some people who are interesting. There’s something there to make you feel intensely. Black writers have a right to do this. […] [The characters of For Colored Girls] were people whom I cared about, people whom I offered to you for you to see and to know. […] They’re people and we experience their lives. That is the point. […] it’s enough of a point for me.”
Ntozake Shange was one of the writers with whom I was most familiar (having now read a play, novel, and poetry collection of hers), and her chapter was unquestionably my favorite. Here are a couple standout quotes:
- “I did not want the book to be something you could put down when it got too emotional. […] I don’t like being given the opportunity to stop and say: I’ve had enough; I want to go do something else. How can you have enough of someone’s life? They’re living it. As far as I’m concerned a character’s living a life. She can’t stop and go do something else; so you can’t stop and do something else. […] Aborting emotional breakthroughs allows one to keep one’s decorum at all moments. Our society allows people to be absolutely neurotic and totally out of touch with their feelings and everyone else’s feelings, and yet be very respectable. This, to me, is a travesty.”
- “I’m trying to change the idea of seeing emotions and intellect as distinct faculties. […] I have not segmented thinking from feeling. [‘flying song’] is a love poem, and it’s about poverty, racism, and imperialism, […] but it’s a love poem. It’s not a didactic love poem. It’s simply that when I love somebody, I want my beloved in a world where those things aren’t occurring. So I have to tell my beloved: these are the things I don’t want you to have to deal with.”
- “‘What was the point of such-and-such?’ I kept saying: ‘Didn’t you have some feelings while you were reading it?’ And they said that they had a lot of feelings. So I said, ‘That was the point!’ […] All of my work is just an exploration of people’s lives. So there isn’t any point. There are just some people who are interesting. There’s something there to make you feel intensely. Black writers have a right to do this. […] [The characters of For Colored Girls] were people whom I cared about, people whom I offered to you for you to see and to know. […] They’re people and we experience their lives. That is the point. […] it’s enough of a point for me.”
Read
February 7, 2023For Black Women Writers at Work, Claudia Tate interviewed 14 playwrights, poets, and novelists to get at their sensibilities and their craft, and ask their takes on some of the debates of the day. The artists include Toni Morrison, Maya Angelou, Nikki Giovanni, Audre Lorde, and many more, and the interviews include a lot of fascinating insight into their craft, especially valuable when they were interviewed in the 1970s and too much of their work reduced to solely their own experiences rather than their creativity or process. The iconic tome has been rereleased by Haymarket Books in this new lovely edition.
The one thing I wish this reissue had was an introduction to the issues and debates of the day for the 2023 reader. Over and over again, Tate asked writers about a 'debate.' My understanding is that the Black sexist debate was raised particularly by two works: Black Macho and the Myth of the Superwoman by Michele Wallace and for colored girls who have considered suicide / when the rainbow is enuf by Ntozake Shange. The crux of it was that female writers who raised issues of misogyny, abuse, and sexual assault were accused of dividing the community and undermining the unity of the Black cause. I was able to slowly get that from reading along and then google-searching, but an introduction to it could have been incredibly valuable and taken mere sentences.
It was honestly incredible to get into the heads of these authors and hear from them about their stories and their craft, when they were in the midst of it. Their voices are so distinct and vivid, and it's fantastic to have this archive, to get a chance to see into their heads. It includes many fantastic pieces of writing advice (I particularly loved Toni Morrison's, perhaps because she too feels like her characters and stories just arrive in her head). A great and necessary read for writers and for readers of these incredible authors' works.
The one thing I wish this reissue had was an introduction to the issues and debates of the day for the 2023 reader. Over and over again, Tate asked writers about a 'debate.' My understanding is that the Black sexist debate was raised particularly by two works: Black Macho and the Myth of the Superwoman by Michele Wallace and for colored girls who have considered suicide / when the rainbow is enuf by Ntozake Shange. The crux of it was that female writers who raised issues of misogyny, abuse, and sexual assault were accused of dividing the community and undermining the unity of the Black cause. I was able to slowly get that from reading along and then google-searching, but an introduction to it could have been incredibly valuable and taken mere sentences.
It was honestly incredible to get into the heads of these authors and hear from them about their stories and their craft, when they were in the midst of it. Their voices are so distinct and vivid, and it's fantastic to have this archive, to get a chance to see into their heads. It includes many fantastic pieces of writing advice (I particularly loved Toni Morrison's, perhaps because she too feels like her characters and stories just arrive in her head). A great and necessary read for writers and for readers of these incredible authors' works.
May 30, 2020
This book was HARD to find. I am so glad I finally did because this book is changing my life - one chapter at a time ... So many of these women are women I consider "big-sister scribes" in my head ...women I really wish I had the opportunity to meet and talk to about their writing, personally - so this is an AMAZING gem. One of the things that makes this book so special is the selection of literary greats featured. They were interviewed in their prime or in early aspects of their career. This book was compiled in the 80s when I was a baby...a kid. - So for me, it is a blast from the past in regards to growing up, already understanding the weight of these women and seeing them as seasoned writers by the time I was in college, studying this Afro American Lit genre. The interviews are so intimate and in-depth and you really get the essence of each writer. I really don't know why this iconic book is not re-launched. I mean, it would be a great gift to women storytellers, and especially women of color who understand how important it is to preserve our history and/or community's stories, etc. It is crazy that half of these amazing literary minds who were interviewed are no longer with us... including the author/interviewer. So at times, I felt melancholic, but grateful that through writing, they are still with us. So it was really a prolific read ... very introspective and super insightful! IT is about the work, their work, their process and it is also an undeniable piece of history, or should I say, herstory. LOVED it and will cherish this one ... SALUTE!
July 8, 2025
Review of "Black Women Writers at Work" by Claudia Tate
This book is a powerful collection of essays that celebrate the voices of Black women writers. Claudia Tate does a great job of showing how these writers use their work to share their stories and challenge society. I found the insights really enlightening and it made me see the importance of their contributions to literature.
The essays are easy to follow and very engaging. I liked how Tate talks about the struggles and triumphs of Black women writers, highlighting their unique perspectives. It’s a reminder of how much stories from Black women matter and how they help shape our understanding of the world.
Overall, I think this book is a must-read for anyone interested in literature, especially those who want to understand more about Black women’s experiences. It’s inspiring and educational, and I’ll definitely be recommending it to friends. A great read that opens your eyes and touches your heart.
This book is a powerful collection of essays that celebrate the voices of Black women writers. Claudia Tate does a great job of showing how these writers use their work to share their stories and challenge society. I found the insights really enlightening and it made me see the importance of their contributions to literature.
The essays are easy to follow and very engaging. I liked how Tate talks about the struggles and triumphs of Black women writers, highlighting their unique perspectives. It’s a reminder of how much stories from Black women matter and how they help shape our understanding of the world.
Overall, I think this book is a must-read for anyone interested in literature, especially those who want to understand more about Black women’s experiences. It’s inspiring and educational, and I’ll definitely be recommending it to friends. A great read that opens your eyes and touches your heart.
March 10, 2024
A look into the working lives, inner thoughts, and philosophies on art and life of some of the greatest American writers. The book was originally published in 1983, so it's fascinating to hear about the political and cultural currents of the time, some of which, 40 years later, have changed, and some that have devastatingly stayed the same. I love to hear about the habits and pure drive of women writers, and to hear from outstanding Black women writers at this specific moment in time, not even two decades after the Civil Rights Movement, is captivating, educational, and nourishing. The editor asks each author if men and women write about different subject matters and themes; these answers were the ones I found most illuminating.
July 7, 2025
I learned a lot about my favorite authors. Reminded of the influence they had on me in my younger years. It's a continuation of my study of the Sisterhood: How a Network of Black Women Writers Changed American Culture. These women wrote for women like me. I owe them a debt of gratitude. Maya Angelou, Toni Cade Bambara, Gwendolyn Brooks, Alexis DeVeaux, Nikki Giovanni, Kristin Hunter, Gayl Jones, Audre Lorde, Toni Morrison, Sonia Sanchez, Ntozake Shange, Alice Walker, Margaret Walker and Sherley Anne Williams.
You may have heard of and read some of their works. If not, my Black women sisters, please do. You will thank me.
You may have heard of and read some of their works. If not, my Black women sisters, please do. You will thank me.
June 24, 2023
This is really a great book! The interviews give in-depth insights into the lives of Black women writers, more clarity on their creative works and explicitly reveal how they combine writing with other aspects of their lives. It is notable that their writings in some ways reflect their individual experiences. I got a handful of life lessons reading this book and I highly recommend it to every writer or prospective writer out there! Thank you, Claudia Tate!
Displaying 1 - 30 of 56 reviews