The publishing industry has a feminism problem

Is the publishing industry truly ready for women-lead stories or will we be forever stuck in the punishment narrative?

Okay so I was reading Carrie Sotto is Back by Taylor Jenkins Reid last month for which I wrote an article, and as the greatness of what I read settled in, a thought came into my mind: why isn’t this critically acclaimed, and instead is banished to the Reese Whitherspoon white wine mom bookclub type of book when this is genuinely great writing, storytelling, and character exploration?

When I think of critically acclaimed living cis women writers I think of Margarett Atwood, Sally Rooney, and Ottessa Moshfegh. Women who write about the singularly painful experience of womanhood.

I’m going to say something and maybe I’m wrong, hell I hope I’m wrong because if I was right it would be downright depressing. But while we’ve finally “allowed” cis-women authors to have a space at a table, it seems that that table is quite limited in terms of themes being: the unbearable suffering of womanhood.

Carrie Sotto Is Back is a marvel of a book about a 30+ retired female tennis player who comes back into the game to reclaim her record-breaking streak. It is a story about womanhood at the core. Set sometimes in the 80s and 90s with news-clipping of the time, you get to see the unfair treatment a headstrong and fearless woman of color was getting from the news as they say she’s ‘unsympathetic’ and outwardly call her a ‘bitch’. Womanhood and sexism are part of the book but aren’t the main themes. At its core, Carrie Sotto is Back is a story about love for a sport and how to love yourself even when you fail.

This book is wildly popular, and while it’s going to get its own mini-series on Hulu at some point, I don’t think the author is given the same kind of laurels as Sally Rooney and the rest because she’s not exploring pain the way they are.

It seems to me that there’s a hierarchy to reading; Carrie Sotto is a beach read the literary hot girls are looking down on, and Normal People is the book you carry with you on the metro with your Gucci glasses and color-coordinated sticky notes.

Why is that?

Why is it that we revel to read female pain, the one we all feel inside of us, but can’t find the same level of catharsis or respect for books celebrating women at their highest?

Because it seems to me, as a woman-born and perceived individual (identifying as non-binary thank you very much) while I do experience the lowest of lows portrayed in My Year Of Rest and Relaxation, I also know the power and the sense of community women can form, and I want to read more about that.

I want to read about women forming a community, and finding peace within each other. I’m tired of reading about women being isolated and suffering, I’m tired of dystopias in which women are brooding mares because I know the future is gloomy for us in the West right now, and I want to read about women’s joy and strength to conquer in a non-girl-bossy way but community-based way.

You cannot write about the complexity of womanhood if you only write about the downside, the isolation, the pain, and the daily sexism, you have to talk about the small compliments you give to girls on the street, having movie nights under the blankets with your besties, and dancing the night away screaming out lyrics to ‘that’s my song’. The reality is much more complex than those literary acclaimed books make it seem, and I don’t want to read another book about people taking drugs to survive this world and be insufferable to their peers instead of looking out for help because yes, it is the reality for some of us (I definitely medicate and see both a psychiatrist and a therapist myself) but what helps the most is having a community of supportive women around you who get you. Who can pick you up with ice cream after a breakup and take you dancing when the need arises.

I want to read about people identifying as women (or partially women) talking in the bathroom, re-arranging their make-up, sharing dating stories while not being a part of the plot, sharing their anxieties, and other parts of themselves with their peers without it feeling contrived by a plot or an upper narrative. I want to read about the real woman's experience.

This makes me think of Sex and The City, which we can criticize at length for being so male-focused, had at its core a group of women sharing womanly things like getting together to go to a party or play poker like in Desperate Housewives, I want to have that in book form. I want to have that female closeness I experience mirrored in critically acclaimed books, no matter the genre.

If you know of any book in which women's relationships are a core part of the story I’d love to read them so if you can give me a few recommendations I’m open ;)