Had there actually been soul food at the Literary Soul Food Café, there might've been more people. Of course, it probably would've defeated the purpose. Who'll listen to great, stick-to-the-ribs poetry when you've got catfish and yams?
About 15 people showed up to last Wednesday's event at the Clark County Library, smaller than expected. No matter. The sparse attendance made the atmosphere living-room intimate, the dialogue between the audience and authors Frank Wallace, Chanell Taylor and event founder Richard Jones feeling more like a friendly chat than a literary forum.
Since the California group specializes in promoting self-published authors, most of the questions dealt with the biz of putting a book out.
Who should edit your work? Taylor recommended hiring a professional writer or editor, someone with experience in the field you're writing in—don't get someone with a true-crime background to edit your book of lullabies. Let family members chime in. "They can be some of your best critics ... and your worst critics, too. They're going to tell you the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth."
How do you make your work stand out? Writing, duh. But Wallace said great cover art might be more important: "Two books may contain the same information, but people are going to pick up the one that looks better."
Is self-publishing lucrative? Yes. No. Write something the masses want, Jones said, and you've got half the battle won (easier said than done). Once you've written it, don't undervalue your product. "A good rule of thumb is charge three or four times what it cost to produce your work. If it cost you $3, charge $9 or $12. You're not being greedy. Lots of people are getting a piece of your pie—advertisers, agents, shipping and handling."
Then it was time for poetry. Taylor, a Las Vegan, presented "I Love You Brother," a tear-inducing tribute to the black men in her life. Wallace's "I Saw My Momma Cry" chronicled a normally unflappable mother's heart-aching struggle to stop the state from taking her children.
Jones finished. Naturally soft, his voice thundered as if he had two throats, riveting everyone. In "The Liberation of Aunt Jemima," he reminisced about Aunt Jemima's evolution from smiling black mammy to permed icon. Judging by the looks on their faces, everyone left satisfied.