Fewer Passing Novels, Younger Subjects

By Elizabeth Cali 

The subject of racial passing and addressing mixed-race identity arises in many – if not most – classes in African American literary studies. I wondered how many 21st-century novels from the Literary Navigator Device dataset fall into the category of mixed-race/passing novels.

From 2000-2024: just four. The dataset does not include any novels on the subject published in the first decade of the century, one novel in the 2010s, and three novels in the 2020s (to date). With such a small dataset it, was easy to start investigating cross-references with these four novels and other tags organizing the dataset. I immediately moved to see what other genres and categories might connect these four novels.

Three of the four mixed-race/passing novels published in the 21st century and included in the Navigator dataset take youth as some aspect of their focus. Two of the three are coming-of-age novels: Daven McQueen’s The Invincible Summer of Juniper Jones and Britt Bennet’s The Vanishing Half. Two of the same set of three are categorized as YA, or Young Adult fiction: Elyse Bryant’s Happily Ever After and Daven McQueen’s The Invincible Summer of Juniper Jones.

It’s interesting to consider that perhaps the most well-known and most frequently taught novel on passing, Nella Larson’s Passing (1929), focuses on adult Black women navigating their identities as mixed-race, light skinned women who could pass, and addresses adult audiences. Yet, three of the four novels we have tracked as mixed-race/passing novels in contemporary African American literature focus on a young adult audience and/or the experiences of identity formation in the movement from childhood into adulthood.

Related: 

• Navigator Discoveries

Following the Prolific Path of Walter Mosley

Selection of novels by Walter Mosley

Walter Mosley appears more than any other novelist in our dataset for the Literary Navigator Device, suggesting that high productivity and genre specialization are closely linked to consistent output over time.

Type “Walter Mosley” in the search bar for the Navigator, click “Novel” for Reading Form and “21st century” for Period of Publication, and the first 29 results will be attributed to fiction by Mosley. Only five authors in our dataset of 21st-century novels have published more than 10 novels: Mosley, Alex Wheatle (13), Percival Everett (13), Eric Jerome Dickey (12), and Tracy Clark (11).

Notably, more than twice as many novels by Mosley as the next closest high-output author appear in the dataset. Mosley primarily publishes detective novels, and his prolific output suggests that genre fiction can facilitate a steady rate of publication.

Mosley’s presence in the dataset highlights how certain genres support long-term productivity. More broadly, the Navigator highlights how a small number of highly prolific writers account for a significant share of novels within 21st-century Black fiction.

Related: 

• Navigator Discoveries

Tracking Crime, Mystery, and Detective Fiction in the 21st Century

By Elizabeth Cali

I am working to get more granular in understanding the shifts in publication numbers of specific genres of novels in the 21st century. For this search, I began with searching for the number of novels categorized (even partially) as crime/detective/mystery novels in the 2000s, the 2010s, and the 2020s. I wondered if there has been a particularly popular decade for publications in this area.

I thought perhaps we might see a spike in publications given the rise in interest in crime (albeit of the true variety) podcasts and television shows. The publication numbers of crime/detective/mystery novels are fairly consistent across the first three decades of the 21st century.

From our dataset, the number of novels published in the crime/mystery/detective category hover around 50 in the 2000s and in the 2010s, 49 and 52, respectively. To date they sit at 41 in the 2020s. The data suggest a consistency to both industry and creative commitment to these genres in contemporary Black publications that prompts an early insight and a question.

The insight: these numbers suggest this area of genre fiction is somewhat settled and stable in terms of their presence in contemporary Black literary output in the 21st century. The question: How settled are the author contributors to this area of genre fiction in terms of established authors versus newcomers to the scene each decade?

Related: 

• Navigator Discoveries

Exploring Genre Fiction with the Literary Navigator Device

By Elizabeth Cali

I wondered about the proliferation of various areas of genre fiction across African American novels included in the Literary Navigator Device. Given some ongoing discussions regarding the place of genre fiction - such as mystery, detective, romance, or horror novels – in audience’s reading practices, I wondered which areas of genre fiction have the greatest representation in our dataset.

I used the Literary Navigator to search the each of the genre fiction sections, while maintaining novels as my dependent variable. We have just over 1500 novels searchable in the Literary Navigator. The independent variables – genre fiction – I selected and de-selected one at a time: first the crime/detective/mystery category, then romance, followed by horror, then thriller, on to science fiction, and finally urban fiction.

Unquestionably, the area of crime/detective/mystery fiction have the most novels represented of any area of genre fiction, with 193 novels. Of genre fiction categories, romance and science fiction have the next largest representation across African American novels with 117 and 104 novels, respectively.

Among the various ways to consider these results, it stands out that crime, detective, and mystery genre fiction represent an important and consistent imaginative outlet for Black writers and readers.

Related: 

• Navigator Discoveries

Your Brain on Black Bibliography

At the “Networking Black Print” conference, I gave a presentation, “Your Brain on Black Bibliography,” where I discussed a clear-cut example, for me, of the value of Black bibliography, how a bibliography reshaped my approach to discussing African American literary studies. Rather than relying on the more commonly accepted phrase “the field,” I’m now more inclined to talk about subfields and the broader discipline of African American literary studies.

From Bibliographic Categories to Subfields 
I encountered Marcellus Blount’s “Studies in Afro-American Literature: An Annual Annotated Bibliography, 1983,” published in 1984 in Callaloo. Blount’s bibliography, which includes an introduction, organizes entries into the following categories: “Interviews,” “General Studies,” “Studies in Poetry,” “Studies in Fiction,” “Studies in Drama,” “Studies in Autobiography,” and “Studies in Individual Authors.” I came across the piece while thinking through the limits of the term “field” to describe what appeared to me to be a more diverse and varied set of intellectual practices.

When we refer to African American literary studies as “the field,” we sometimes inadvertently flatten or downplay differences among various areas of study within the discipline. We also risk overlooking the distinct challenges that particular subfields face.

As a now long-time resident of St. Louis, I often compare African American literary studies subfields to neighborhoods. In this city, neighborhoods matter, with some faring better than others. I’ve also heard scholars speak about clusters of neighborhoods, how adjacent areas support and strengthen one another.

From Subfields to Bibliographers
Subfields operate in ways similar to neighborhoods. They have their own histories, their own strengths and weaknesses, and, notably, they receive unequal attention and resources.

As I thought more about subfields, I realized that all of them are, in part, sustained by bibliographers. In Author Studies, we have Richard Wright bibliographers and Toni Morrison bibliographers; in Period Studies, we have Harlem Renaissance bibliographers and Black Arts Movement bibliographers; and in Genre Studies, we have Neo-slave narrative bibliographers and Afrofuturism bibliographers.

A couple of years ago, I spoke with my students about an article I had recently completed on Malcolm X. I brought the books I used for the article to class. The guys were excited to look through them. Many of them, who had only encountered
The Autobiography of Malcolm X, were intrigued to see collections of speeches, biographies, art books, historical studies, and more.

From Bibliographers to Bibliographic Mapping
Moving from bibliographers, we might consider bibliographic mapping, a term I use to describe the work of organizing and tracing bodies of texts across time, genre, and format. These days, I’ve been assembling a bibliography of Black Panther books published between 2016 and 2026. I’m examining individual comic issues, trade paperbacks, hardcover editions, novelizations, and more.

From Bibliographic Mapping to Maps
That work has also led me from bibliographic mapping to actual maps. Early in his run on Black Panther, Ta-Nehisi Coates introduced a new map of Wakanda, which has circulated across multiple publications since 2016. In a sense, we can quite literally engage in bibliographic mapping of his map.

Related:

• A Notebook on the Networking Black Print Conference (April 2026)

The Beinecke vs. The Schomburg vs. The Private Collector

Collection Walter O. Evans

The drama began on the evening of April 9, 2026 at the “Networking Black Print” conference. And from there, it was on, the rumblings of a dynamic often left unspoken: the competition between collections and collectors.

First, during her presentation for the session “The Future of Black Print Collections,” Melissa Barton, curator of the James Weldon Johnson Memorial Collection of African American Arts and Letters at the Beinecke Library at Yale University, mentioned one of the institution’s holdings: an edition of God’s Trombones (1927) by James Weldon Johnson.

Next up was Joy L. Bivins, director of the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture in Harlem, New York, who was also on the panel. She noted that she felt obligated to offer a follow-up to Barton’s presentation. Bivins pointed out that the Schomburg possessed a signed copy of God’s Trombones, an observation that subtly suggested whose collection might hold the edge.

Her remarks brought the competition between the Schomburg and the Beinecke’s Johnson Collection front and center. It was all in good fun, and nearly everyone in the audience laughed. The key word there is nearly.

At least one person didn’t laugh: the collector Walter O. Evans. He listened quietly and bided his time.

The next day, during his own session, Evans offered a set of counterpoints to both Barton and Bivins. He acknowledged what the Beinecke and the Schomburg held, and then emphasized that his own collection was more extensive, more accessible, and more personalized, with books by major figures that were not only autographed but often inscribed.

To illustrate his point, he held up a copy of God’s Trombones and noted that it was, in effect, a collaborative work by Johnson and Aaron Douglas, who provided the illustrations. He went further, referencing a 1941 image Douglas created as a tribute to Langston Hughes’s “The Negro Speaks of Rivers.” To see that image, Evans explained, you would need to bypass the Beinecke and the Schomburg and instead visit him and his wife in Savannah, Georgia—where they hold the original.

Heeey, this was something: an individual, not an institution, talking back to some of the most powerful cultural repositories in the country.

Later, on the same panel, rare book dealer Rebecca Romney made an important point. She noted that a financial boom in African American rare books occurred in the early 2010s, when the Smithsonian Institution entered the market aggressively, seeking to acquire materials for the National Museum of African American History and Culture, which opened in 2016. Savvy dealers understood that a major player like the Smithsonian would be willing to pay top prices, and the market adjusted accordingly.

It’s not uncommon for scholars to wonder which institution holds the largest or most valuable collection. Is it Yale? Emory? The Schomburg? Another major archive?

What was unusual was the presence of Walter O. Evans at the conference, an African American private collector participating directly in these conversations, offering perspective, and, at moments, issuing a quiet challenge. You don’t see that every day.

Related:

• A Notebook on the Networking Black Print Conference (April 2026)

Walter O. Evans and the Black Collector Vibe

Walter O. Evans sharing stories about his collection

One of the highlights of the “Networking Black Print” conference was the opportunity to hear from the legendary collector Walter O. Evans. For real, he was a whole vibe.

One origin story Evans shared about his collection begins in the early 1970s, when he traveled to Jamaica for medical training. That was the official reason for the trip. But he also had another, perhaps more meaningful goal: to meet Amy Garvey, the widow of Marcus Garvey, who he had learned was living there.

He met with her, spent time in conversation, and came away energized by the encounter. That moment shaped a practice he would extend over decades. As a surgeon, Evans had the financial means to collect books and art, and importantly, to cultivate relationships with renowned creators. Twice a year, for decades, he and his wife Linda hosted visual artists and literary figures, creating a space for exchange and community.

At the conference on April 10, Evans discussed several rare books from his collection, offering rich context for each item. The audience was drawn in. Notably, he paired his remarks with a slideshow of roughly 75 images from his collection. The combination of storytelling and rotating visuals of rare books and artwork was especially compelling.

Let me tell you something: you don’t usually attend a literature conference expecting such a riveting presentation from a book collector. Too often, we as literary scholars focus on interpretation and text-based analysis. Far less often do we encounter someone like Evans, who speaks from lived engagement with figures such as Romare Bearden, Margaret Walker, Jacob Lawrence, Ollie Harrington, and others.

Related:

• A Notebook on the Networking Black Print Conference (April 2026)

The Organizing and Anticipatory Work of Amanda Awanjo and Tajah Ebram

Tajah Ebram and Amanda Awanjo at the close of the Networking Black Print Conference

Considerable planning, logistical coordination, day-to-day management, and implementation of  the visions offered by co-directors Jacqueline Goldsby and Meredith L. McGill for the Networking Black Print Conference was done by Amanda Awanjo, Project Manager for the Black Bibliography Project, and Tajah Ebram, the Black Studies Subject Specialist Librarian at Rutgers, along with the Rutgers team.

Throughout the conference, people rightly thanked Jacqueline Goldsby and Meredith L. McGill, the project co-directors, for making the gathering possible. Goldsby and McGill, in turn, gave shoutouts to Awanjo and Ebram for their efforts, as well as the overall core team. 

In addition to acknowledging Goldsby, McGill, Awanjo, and Ebram for their leadership, I wish we were even better positioned to take stock of the full range of labor and, just as important, serious thinking required to pull off projects of this scale.

Roles like Project Manager and Team Lead, which Awanjo and Ebram occupy, are critically needed but not that common in African American literary studies. It’s also true that we do not have many large-scale projects like the Black Bibliography Project.

Both Ebram and Awanjo have PhDs in literary studies, and that they are working on a major project central to African American literary studies but not as formal literary scholars says something to us about how academic work is structured and the value of thinking beyond traditional scholarly roles. Ebram and Awanjo are showing us what that looks like.

For quite some time now, I’ve been thinking and writing about scholar-organizers for literary gatherings. Those scholars in our discipline who convene conferences, institutes, and collaborative initiatives have been essential to the development and formation of intellectual communities. By hosting “Networking Black Print: Reimagining Black Bibliography,” Goldsby and McGill contribute to a rich continuum of scholar-organizing.

And Awanjo and Ebram allow us to think in other directions as well. Over the last few years, they have been supervising teams of graduate students and now undergraduates for this project. In the process, they have had to manage people, budgets, visits to different universities and libraries, room and tech assistance reservations, communications, scheduling, and workflow systems.

All these and more activities constitute what I refer to as the invisible workings of African American literary studies. We tend to think of scholarly articles and books as the most visible intellectual features of the discipline. But what about the everyday activities or the special events like conferences or collaborative research projects? These are all forms of labor and coordination that Awanjo and Ebram handle on a regular basis.

And let’s not forget the critical role of anticipation in project management and conference coordination. So much involves thinking through and imagining the needs of participants long before invitations go out and well before the conference takes place. They anticipate, for instance, that people like me will ask how to get from the airport to the hotel and from the hotel to the campus sessions. 

The practice of anticipation is so integral to the toolbox of a good project manager and team lead that, somewhere in their unwritten playbook for their duties, I'm convinced that they have little Post-it note reminders to themselves that read: be able to see into the future.

In graduate school, we learn quite a bit about performing the roles of teacher and scholar. But project manager? Team lead? We rarely receive instruction in those areas, yet as Ebram and Awanjo reveal, that kind of expertise is essential to the success of large-scale projects in African American literary studies.

Related:

• A Notebook on the Networking Black Print Conference (April 2026)