Writing With A Sense of Destiny

by Charles Allen
(West Orange, NJ, U.S.)

Genre: Street Lit

My writing journey began in 1980, when I was in Los Angeles waiting for a job to come through. When it did, my focus was not there. All I wanted to do was write, so I eventually quit and immersed myself in the craft. Because I felt I was called to be an agent of change, however, I found myself doing more preaching than anything else.

One day when I was down and out, I went to a barber shop for a haircut. The barber and I got into a conversation and I shared my dream. He in turn told me Alex Haley was his Masonic brother and would be in the next day, when the shop closed, for his weekly cut. He invited me to sit in and talk with him, but gave me a stern warning not to share any of my writing or try anything funny.

The following day, Haley arrived and handed me pictures of his relatives in Africa. He talked about ROOTS and his personal journey as a writer. I listened intently, but with a poem folded in my pocket that I wanted to whip out and share with him. It took a lot of courage, but right before his haircut was finished, I handed it to him. The barber gave me a strong scolding, but Alex told him it was okay. He read my work and gave me some feedback that still rings in my ears today.

"You write very well," he said. "You handle emotion well, too. But don't preach to people. They don't want to hear that. If you want to reach them, do it through their emotions."

A year later, I returned to my hometown in New Jersey. After realizing there was no money in poetry, I decided to try my hand at writing song lyrics. I spent nearly six years at this, writing with friends who had contracts with record companies and trying to get a deal myself. All I got was a lot of lies and broken promises. An industry exec even rudely told me I would never make it because I didn't have what it takes.

I was broken and discouraged. I hid my head under the covers for a few days, but finally came out ready to continue pursuing my dream. It was then that another barber told me he was starting a magazine and asked me to be the managing editor. For the next three years, I learned about computers, publishing software, layout, and was able to hone my writing skills. When the magazine folded, due to funding, I walked away empowered. No longer was it necessary to allow other people to play God with my destiny. I was self-contained, and ready to plow ahead and make my dream a reality.

Around that time, I came across Dan Poynter's The Self-Publishing Manual. He fired me up and made me a man on a mission. I came up with all kinds of ideas. I wrote some material for children as well as adults, but didn't put any of it out because I knew it wasn't my niche; that one area of concern in this world I felt I was put here to address. Something was burning inside, trying to get out and I was growing frustrated because I had no idea what it was.

One day, I discovered. After going through years of bruising and breaking, being molded and shaped, the skies opened and I saw it clearly. I was put here to inspire change in the lives of the young people of the African-American community who are being destroyed by drugs and violence, and living without a sense of purpose.

In 2000, I wrote and self-published a book called Generation Exodus. It went against everything Alex Haley told me. I put it out anyway, and it was not received well. I pulled back and searched for the right approach. In the meantime, I wrote two books for former drug addicts who turned their lives around and wanted to tell their story, hoping to help others struggling with addiction. I did the writing, layout and guided them through the production process. Through my involvement with these men, I was able to live their lives. I was there with them in the crack joints and when drug dealers beat them mercilessly. I was there when they were running from the police, handcuffed, and sent to prison. I felt their pain when they lost their families, possessions, and self-respect, then struggled to get it back. Their stories gave me the experience I needed for my novel, The Gangsta Prophecy. Without it, I would not have been able to write it.

The Gangsta Prophecy falls in the category of street lit or urban fiction, which the African-American community is devouring like hot cakes. Having learned from my past mistake, I left the pulpit in the closet and created a story that has the commercial appeal my target audience likes, but also inspires.

In his journal, the late Charles Waddell Chestnut said, "If you want to get inside a house and the occupants don't want you in, you don't go storming up the lawn. You sneak around the back door. Before they know it, you're in, and there's nothing they can do about it."

That was the same advice Alex Haley gave me. Don't preach. Reach them through their emotions; through the events and circumstances that matter to them. This is what I've attempted with The Gangsta Prophecy. Only time will tell if I get in. If not, I'll keep looking for another entrance until I do. I'm on a mission.

Visit Charles Allen's The Gangsta Prophecy.