Danzy Senna’s philosophy of writerly freedom
Colored Television by Danzy Senna, professor of English at the USC Dornsife College of Letters, Arts and Sciences, has garnered wide acclaim. It was included in both The New York Times’ and Time magazine’s lists of notable books of the year, and was a Good Morning America book club read.
Not all of her novels have been so well-received. “My second book, Symptomatic, was mostly ignored, but when it wasn’t ignored, it was hated,” says Senna. She’d chosen to write a horror thriller about race in a moment when few were mixing the subjects and genres.
Yet, reading the bad reviews provided her with a unique boost of confidence. “My first novel’s excessive praise had made me think that praise was why I was writing. When people hated Symptomatic, I thought, ‘I’m really a writer, because I just keep wanting to write. I am not made by the praise of the world. I’m writing because it’s a compulsion,’” she says.
Senna recently sat down for a Dornsife Dialogue with Jonathan Escoffery, author of If I Survive You and a PhD student in Creative Writing and Literature at USC Dornsife, in which the two discussed the inspiration for her novel, bucking expectations, Los Angeles’ unique relationship to apocalypse and much more.
Star power
Los Angeles served as a central inspiration for Senna, who was particularly intrigued by the strange way Hollywood eclipsed book-writing in the city. “I would go to parties and feel my irrelevance when I would say I was a novelist and people would ask, ‘Has any of your work been made into anything?’” says Senna.
She’d tried her hand at writing for TV, and found it “sparkly,” filled with a tantalizing hope that one might have your art experienced on such a large scale — and also make it rich. “It was at the height of prestige television and there was a feeling that books were fading into history and that television was taking over.”
She tapped into this feeling, centering her book on the character of Jane, who turns away from a struggling second book project (the “mulatto War and Peace,” as Jane’s husband describes it) to a potentially far more profitable television script.
What’s in a name?
The word “mulatto” (a term used frequently in the book) has a habit of pricking up ears, but Senna doesn’t entirely understand the fuss. “My inside world is so heavily populated by “mulattos”, and we use the word constantly, that I forgot that other people weren’t allowed to say it,” she says.
For her, mulatto is just the best description of her personal experience. Senna’s father, Carl Senna, identifies as Black and is a descendant of slaves. Her mother, the poet and novelist Fanny Howe, is white and a descendant of slave owners. Mulatto is the term that accurately reflects this specific history, says Senna, unlike “biracial,” which could mean a combination of any two races.
Yet, she’s not necessarily making the case for larger adoption of the designation. Senna resists the expectation that, as a mixed-race writer, she should be looked to for specific instructions around identity and language.
“I think sometimes as writers of color, especially Black writers, we get asked to be like [former President Barack] Obama, to wear these other hats. I want to live in a much freer space, and maybe it’s an irresponsible space, but I want to claim the fiction writer/artist loophole. Nothing I’m writing should be seen as prescriptive. It’s descriptive, not prescriptive,” she explains.
Writerly recommendations
Before Senna was a novelist and professor, she worked as a journalist. Transitioning to fiction writing was intimidating, she says when asked for tips on how someone could get more serious about novel-writing.
She says she started with workshops, taking night classes at the New School in New York City, where she learned to put her work in front of other people, take criticism, and also to realize that first drafts are always flawed.
She also suggested that would-be novelists begin to read like writers. “When you’re reading, start to think about where you were pulled into the story, where you were pushed out. Start to look under the hood and to understand the craft,” she says.