I just watched a wonderful TED talk by Chimamanda Adichie, a Nigerian writer, about the importance of stories – many stories, not just one – so that no person or place or anything is defined by a single, limiting story. Here’s her talk:
I also (coincidence? no…) just finished her book of short stories last night. It was the most beautiful collection of stories I’ve read in quite a while (though Yiyun Li’s A Thousand Years of Good Prayers was amazing too). I think one of my goals for this next year will be to read more writing by women – especially women from outside the US, and especially writing in the form of short stories. I think over my lifetime I’ve read WAY more writing by men than by women. I just did a quick count of the authors on my “Books of 2009″ list and, not counting anthologies with more than one author, I’ve read 36 books by men and 12 by women. This might be a bit skewed because I’m working my way through Patrick O’Brian’s Master and Commander series, but even if I subtract those ten it’s still over twice as many men as women.
Now. Does this matter? A year ago I may have said no. Today I’m going to say yes. I think there’s something important I may be missing out on by overlooking these women writers – writers that may be harder to find out about, or to find books by, but have stories that are just as important as, if not more important than, the stories the men are telling.
I guess in the end a balance might be good. But this year I want to make up for lost time. Today is the first day of my twenty-eighth year*. I don’t want to be over-dramatic, but welcome to the year of the woman. :)
*or maybe yesterday, being my birthday, was, but does the next year really start on your birthday or the day after?
