The withdrawal from sale of Jamie Oliver’s children’s book, after it was criticised for inaccurate and offensive portrayal of First Nations people, must be embarrassing for everyone involved in its publication. It may seem surprising that, in 2024, when children’s literature has supposedly never been more positive about diversity, this has been allowed to happen. Obviously, books about First Nations people should be written by First Nations people first and foremost. Own voices matter. But this book is a vehicle for Jamie Oliver. Celebrity books exist, and probably always will, until they stop making money, so the question I am interested in is, how does something like this happen? How are books with huge, embarrassing flaws like this allowed to get to the bookshops? Why is this still happening, in 2024? Who, or more likely what, is to blame?
Authenticity input needs to be the first thought, not an afterthought
Penguin Random House UK have accepted that this was an editorial oversight, and stated that while the author (whether this means Jamie Oliver or his presumed ghost writer, is unclear) had requested an authenticity read, one was not done. This points to a problem I’ve seen again and again when carrying out authenticity reads myself: even when the concept of an authenticity read is understood, even when in theory it has been agreed to, it just isn’t seen as an important part of the process. Authenticity reads are carried out at the last minute, in haste, as if the only purpose was to pick up the odd inaccuracy or out-dated word. But the problems often run much deeper, in plot lines and characterisation. A last minute authenticity read is too late. Jamie Oliver’s Billy and the Epic Escape is 400 pages of fantasy. You cannot turn around structural edits on a book like that at short notice. Until authenticity input is a first thought, not an afterthought, this kind of thing will continue to happen.
Publishers need to decide to see authenticity input in a completely different way – not as a quick sticking plaster, but as an integral part of the process of building a book. With a celebrity book, which is typically being developed by a team, they need to have a consultation with an expert in any community that is affected by it, at concept stage. They need someone in the room – not necessarily a writer or a publishing professional, but someone with lived experience – who can question premises, plot lines and character development, who can even ask the question: “Is Jamie Oliver really the right person for this book? Why not let him write about something he has expertise in?” (I for one would read the heck out of a series of Young Adult, or New Adult, books set in a professional kitchen like Fifteen which he set up to help young, disadvantaged people – potential for drama, tension and messy relationships galore). Authors and publishers don’t object to having a detective to consult with when they’re writing a police procedural, or a chemist to help out with their thriller plot that revolves around chemical weapons. Why is an expert on a community any different from other experts? The aim is the same: get the book as good as it can be, right from the beginning, so everyone is saved time and embarrassment.
Publishers need to make sure that there is safe space to raise concerns
I’ve talked to good people who have worked on bad 21st century children’s books: books that have faced just criticism for racist language, plotlines, characterisation. These conversations suggest strongly, that although there may well be members of the team who have concerns, they don’t feel confident to raise those concerns, especially where it means coming into conflict with a ‘big’ author, or a ‘big’ editor, or a ‘big’ agent. Publishing teams are small, junior staff are poorly paid, a book’s success relies on hype, and it’s very easy to see how you get to a situation where no-one dares break the consensus. The other complicating factor is the increasing number of people working freelance within the industry. Freelancers have no guarantee of being re-hired, and possibly feel even less able to speak up when they see problems with a book than a permament member of a team might.
When we seek feedback on Megaphone Writers CIC’s mentoring and other activities, we make the forms anonymous so people can express criticism in the confidence that they won’t be identifiable. We want to know what is wrong, so we can improve if we need to. Publishers need to make sure that there is safe space for everyone involved in the project to raise concerns about the book, anonymously if necessary. They need to make it easier for people to be the squeaky wheel.
Finally, of course, things slip off the to-do list – I know plenty of authors who have found their books got forgotten about when an editor retires, or moves to a different firm, or something else happens to upset the smooth flow of the project. This is another reason that the authenticity input has to come first – not be left to last for someone over-worked, juggling multiple projects, to remember about. Until then, this sort of thing will go on happening.
– Leila Rasheed
Further reading:
Inclusive Minds, gold standard for authenticity input in the UK: https://www.inclusiveminds.com/services
Other People’s Stories by Jeanine Leane: https://overland.org.au/previous-issues/issue-225/feature-jeanine-leane/