Perhaps you’ve heard James Patterson, one of the wealthiest authors in the world, has recently released a memoir, “James Patterson: The Stories of My Life.” Or maybe you missed it because it’s been upstaged by a twist in the plot. In a recent interview with The Times (UK), Patterson argues that it’s become too difficult for white men to get writing jobs, and that this so-called trend demonstrates “another form of racism.” He later opines: “Can you get a job? Yes. Is it harder? Yes. It’s even harder for older writers. You don’t meet many 52-year-old white males.”
Patterson has written books for nearly half a century. He is a publishing machine who represents a giant metropolis in the literary landscape. He runs his own imprint, Jimmy Patterson (which once published other authors but now only publishes his own books), and has authored, co-authored, or outlined (for other writers to complete) some 260 bestselling books. To date, his net worth hovers around 800 million.
Despite such wild success, he has succumbed to an unfounded fear: that older white male authors are becoming extinct.
It is a tale as old as time. And it’s just plain false.
A few years ago, before my own books found homes, I had a conversation with two male colleagues about the fierce competition in book publishing. I had submitted seven books to agents and editors over a decade and had yet to land a single book contract. A significant number of my personalized rejection letters cited to my Indian heritage as the reason they passed on my projects. They were already representing other Indian authors, or my book wasn’t comparable to the other Indian-authored books that were selling.
One of my colleagues then claimed it was harder for white men to get published than any other racial, gender, or ethnic group. It was only when my laughter was met with blank stares and silence that I realized how skewed their perception of reality was. To add insult to injury, both of these writers often spoke out against bigotry. One of them had recently published an award-winning book on racism.
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I don’t know a single Black, brown or Indigenous writer shocked by Patterson’s admission. In literary communities, we routinely bump against such distorted views. What bristles most is that white authors continue to state them openly on such large platforms. Patterson’s interview in the The Times recalls Lionel Shriver’s 2016 speech at the Brisbane Writers Festival, where she blamed identity politics and accusations of cultural appropriation for limiting her own white imagination. Authors like Shriver are bold about their ignorance and get even bolder when facing repercussions for their words.
Despite signs that it may be improving, publishing remains very white. Penguin Random House’s recently released figures show that 76 percent of their books from 2019 to 2021 were written by white authors, despite the fact that the US population is only 60 percent white. According to a study by the New York Times, 22 out of 220 bestselling books that appeared on their lists in 2020 were written by people of color. And the same study showed that, of the authors published by major houses from 1950 to 2018 for whom race could be identified, 95 percent were white.
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During the 2020 nationwide protests against police violence after the killing of George Floyd, sales of Black-authored books soared. The books set up shop on the New York Times bestselling lists and stayed there for months. Copies flew off the shelves. Publishing houses rushed to print more. I have to wonder whether this was the turning point for white authors like Patterson, who perhaps began to believe that the sales of more Black-authored books was not a sign of their long overdue success, but a threat to white authors’ assumed and esteemed place in the publishing world.
Ultimately, Patterson is just another white publishing gatekeeper anxious about the fact that the gate may have swung open too wide. Fortunately for him, he will endure little to no consequences for his words. The pushback won’t touch his stratospheric wealth. He has established a large literary fortress with a wide moat that insulates him from criticism.
Patterson did tweet an apology on Tuesday. But the interview, and the likely thousands of hits it’s already received, has already done its part to support a harmful publishing myth.
The irony, though, is thick. With Patterson’s groundless comments in The Times, he has presented himself as a stereotypical victim in a predictable narrative — just the kind of lazy story that makes critics pan his work. It makes no difference to me. I’ve seen this plot play out before and won’t be surprised when there’s a sequel.
Anjali Enjeti is the author of “The Parted Earth” and “Southbound: Essays on Identity, Inheritance, and Social Change.”
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