Until the early 1990s, black British writing remained marginalised and undernourished while the volume of imported books by black American writers distorted the market. It took one book – Yardie – to trigger change. North London publisher The X Press picked up Victor Headley’s tough UK-Jamaican hood fable in 1992, after it had been rejected by many mainstream publishers. The book’s phenomenal success opened up new relationships in the book trade. X Press publisher Steve Pope recalls the initial enthusiasm of W H Smith, who became the first bookselling chain to introduce special ‘Black Interest’ sections in the early 1990s. As other booksellers followed suit, small presses saw their new literary discoveries snapped up by bigger publishing houses: Alex Wheatle, for example, was bought by 4th Estate (now an imprint of Murdoch-owned HarperCollins) after Black Amber published his debut novel Brixton Rock. The big houses began to adopt more writers from ethnic backgrounds (Asian as well as black – although the growth of Asian writing was less dramatic, and came later), not just as fashionable accessories, but for solid commercial reasons.

Today, established authors such as Hanif Kureishi, Zadie Smith and Meera Syal have the branding and resources of big publishing conglomerates to bring their writing to a wider audience. The success of these writers has created new opportunities for publishers and booksellers to support ethnically diverse writing, and the vogue for multicultural literature continues unabated. However, a glance at the UK bestseller lists reveals a different reality. Of the top 100 selling books of 2003 according to Nielsen Bookscan, none are by black or Asian writers. Monica Ali’s Booker-shortlisted Brick Lane, at 179th, was the highest ranked. In March this year, The Bookseller magazine conducted an illuminating survey into cultural diversity in book publishing, which concluded that, even if the industry was eager to change, it had some way to go.

Meanwhile, some feel that the true hotbed of diversity – the literary and cultural fringes – is under threat. In today’s tighter, more centralised book world, competition and sheer over-production are squeezing out variety and risk-taking among publishers and booksellers alike. ‘There isn’t the kind of support there used to be,’ says Steve, claiming that X Press sales have been affected by what he sees as a ‘one size fits all’ ethos in the book trade. Groups and companies that exist on the outskirts in the first place will be hardest hit by any extra financial pressure. While the heavy-hitters hog the limelight, it becomes harder than ever for first-time writers – whatever their background – to find a publisher.

It is probably true that fewer bookshops now devote exclusive space to minority writing than used to be the case in the mid-1990s. Big book selling chains now dominate the trade, and over the last decade booksellers have tended to hand over some of their former autonomy to the control of Head Offices. Dedicated ‘Black Interest’ sections now appear only in designated inner-city branches. Not even Waterstone’s in trafalgar square has one. However, such sections have always provoked mixed reactions: they may be a useful buyers’ tool and they may indeed encourage people to enter bookshops who otherwise wouldn’t, but many argue that they ghettoise minority writing, and that they offer an incoherent, disparate selection. To place ‘Black Crime’ next to ‘Black Erotica’ and ‘Black Social History’ does, after all, seem a bizarre concept. What remains true is that only when writers arrive at a certain level of prestige – Ben Okri, Toni Morrison et al – do they ‘graduate’ into general Fiction A-Z.

Yet we must tread carefully with our zealous cultural fringe theory. Before we rush to damn the bookselling chains, we should remember that it is often the larger stores and those with the higher turnover that can afford to take risks and stock books that they cannot guarantee will sell. While they can never replicate the dedication and range of such specialist stores as New Beacon bookshop in Stroud Green, North London, certain chain branches in areas with high proportions of minority ethnic groups – Ottakar’s in Clapham, South London is one example – do offer larger, well-tended ‘Black Interest’ sections to provide for local custom.

In publishing, as in other areas of our culture, the mainstream today is doing what the fringes struggled so hard to do 15-20 years ago. Authors start small and grow bigger. As their works become commercialised, more widely read – and thus more influential – the more space they occupy in the cultural airwaves. This process must continue, and only by allowing independent publishing room to breathe today will we preserve and promote the creativity and innovation that will forge the mainstream of tomorrow. So read widely, but be selective. Unlike in other retail sectors where manufacturers’ brands dominate, most of us are not influenced by the publisher’s logo in our decision to buy a book. Perhaps we should be. When you pick up a book, check the imprints page at the front: if it doesn’t say ‘subsidiary of’ on it, then chances are this independent firm needs your bucks more than a multinational giant. If a book on a 3 for 2 table catches your eye, just remember that the publisher paid the bookseller to put it there. If we want to prevent publishing from becoming monolithic, notwithstanding the strength and quality of those writers stabled at bigger houses, and instead allow many different publishers the space to cultivate the true breadth of multi-ethnic literary diversity in the UK, we, the consumers, need to go the extra mile.

The author works in Sales & Marketing at Serpent’s Tail, an independent publisher in Finsbury Park, North London

The LIP: What was it like to write fiction after years of journalism and non-fiction?

Jill Nelson: It was a ball! After so many years as a journalist and writer of non-fiction, being necessarily constrained by the ‘facts’ as best I could uncover them, it was a true pleasure to be able to let my imagination take my words as far out as I wanted to go. In the beginning of writing it I’d get to places in the text and feel ‘stuck.’ Luckily, I had a pal who’d remind me, ‘It’s fiction. Make it up!’

The LIP: The book’s heroines call their brothel a ‘Sisters’ Spa’ and intend it to be exclusively for black women. Is the book aimed broadly at a black, female readership?

JN: I consider my first audience black women and as a black woman I write with sisters foremost in my head. However, I think SH speaks to all women, and I would hope that men too will read the book. I think the book’s for anyone who likes sex, likes to read, and has a sense of humour.

The LIP: Lydia and Acey are clever, feisty, financially independent professionals who give it all up to provide sexual healing for women. Did you want to make a feminist statement?

JN: I wanted to write a fast, funny, smart, good read, with the feminist messages embedded more subtly in the text. It’s about friends coming up with a great idea and navigating their conditioning, society’s expectations and a lot of other bullshit to make it work; it’s about women taking control of their own sexuality; it’s about beating back the sexism, exploitation of women and opportunism of the Church through the character of T. Terry Tiger, and the oppression of capitalist exploitation in the persona of Dick Dixmoor, and winning in the end. And it’s also about women getting in touch with who they are.

The LIP: Microsoft’s online magazine compared Sexual Healing to Michel Houellebecq’s Platform, in that it too proposes a version of sex tourism as a remedy for ‘the desolateness of contemporary Western sexual relations’. What’s your angle on this?

JN: My take is that women’s sexuality is so proscribed, oppressed, and judged in the culture, that we are often left desolate and depressed. This happens both when we try to ‘fit in’ with expectations as well as often when we rebel and, in acting out, enter yet another trap that’s been set by what I call the dying white culture. What I tried to do in SH is not simply flip the script in terms of women controlling their own sexuality and the selling and buying of sex, but also create a new world in which these things could take place and thrive.

The LIP: How did your own observations of American society influence your creation of Dick Dixmoor?

JN: Dick is a character largely based on real events, real people, and my imagination’s take on the rapacious, cut throat nature of American capitalism and the often frightening collision of capitalism and racism, i.e. Dick’s obsession with the ‘black male super-predator’ and his sincere belief that secretly making black men impotent is justified by social conditions. Dick’s character is based on real stuff onto which I piled my own skewed imagination.

The LIP: Do you think that a conflict between organised religion and personal sexual freedoms is something a lot of people are anxious about?

I see organized religions as incredibly oppressive, particularly for women. As a black American woman, it was impossible not to bring the black church in as a character, since in most communities it is among the few long-lived, stable institutions, and has incredible power and influence on people’s lives. And yes, I think many women and men are disturbed by the Church’s hypocrisy when it comes to sexuality, whether it’s the studied indifference to HIV/AIDS, the refusal to acknowledge gay parishioners, or ministers’ exploitation of lonely female parishioners who confuse their minister with their God.

The LIP: Are publishers representing black literary talent well enough?

JN: I really can’t speak for the UK. In the US I’m convinced that white readers by and large don’t read writers who are not also white. I find people of colour read much more widely. Do I think publishers could push readers to read more widely? Yes. But I think they only do it after a writer has, usually through her own hard work, crossed over. Then they figure out it makes good business sense to market all writers to all people.

The LIP: Do you think black interest sections in bookshops are a good thing?

JN: I have mixed feelings. It’s great to be in a black interest section for people who are already interested in work by black writers, but they’re a minority of book buyers. So, it’d be nice to see SH in the ‘New Fiction’ or ‘Fiction’ section in addition to black interest, ya know?

Jill will appear at Ottakar’s in Clapham with Alex Wheatle on 19th October as part of Black History Month in the UK. For further info visit: www.serpentstail.com.