By definition (or by Google) chick lit is a genre of fiction which addresses issues of modern womanhood, often humorously and lightheartedly. It also happens to be a genre that is dominated by white women for some reason.
Usually, if I want to read a book about a black woman I either have to read about her suffering or falling in love with a white guy. But most of my options cover suffering. Both in fiction and non-fiction.
It’s not as if black women don’t like to laugh, or fantasize about cute relationships, or root for a sweet underdog, so I don’t understand why chick-lit with black women aren’t being published.
Not being relatable is not an excuse. Why is it that all non-black women are supposed to identify and relate to white women but it can’t be the other way around? To be honest, I can’t relate to white women in a lot of the chick-lit I read.
None of them wear a head scarf to bed. Rarely do I read about them applying lotion and the scenarios they find themselves in are much too foreign. Chick-lit being a form of escapism isn’t an excuse either. I don’t want to escape into a fantasy of being white, that’s weird.
At this point, you might tell that if I want to read about black women, I should read some Urban fiction. That’s like me asking for directions to the Statue of Liberty and being sent to the Empire State building. They are two different things.
I also don’t want to read chick-lit from the 20th century! Waiting to Exhale, The Coldest Winter Ever, Fly Girls, I don’t want to read any books that don’t know what an iPhone is.
I kinda just want to read a book about a black woman accidentally snap-chatting her boobs to her story. Or a black woman forgetting her favorite wig at the home of an awful one night stand and having to face the music to get it back. Things that are fun, easy, and unique to read. That’s really all I want.
I’m sick of white women being the universal experience in fiction and I’m sick of searching for 40 days and nights to find a book about a black woman that doesn’t involve slavery, the hood, or a detailed break down on why black men don’t like us.
I want to have fun when I read about women like me.