Tag: Writing

Why do I have to choose?

My niece called me this afternoon. She wanted to know if I had come across the video of a book club meeting that had become very popular on social media. At this meeting, there was a question that apparently started a whole lot of drama. When I heard what the question was, I wasn’t even surprised by how wild it got.

The question was: Chimamanda or Colleen Hoover — who is the better writer?

And my first thought was… why?

I didn’t think “why?” because I think one of them is better than the other. That In fact, is exactly my point. I don’t understand why we have to compare them in the first place.

One thing I don’t particularly enjoy is comparison. And for me, if you’re going to compare two things, there has to be some reasonable basis for the comparison.

Chimamanda and Colleen Hoover don’t write the same kind of books. They don’t necessarily write for the same reasons, in the same style, or even in the same literary space. Not at all. Not even a little bit.
They come from different backgrounds and different parts of the world… Their stories, the themes, approaches and audiences can be very different… Very very different.

So I beg the question, what exactly are we measuring?

Because if you’re going to ask me who is a better writer, my next question will definitely be… “better at what?” Gbam… Did I just Gbam my own question? Haha.

To be honest, this is where I think these social media debates sometimes become unnecessarily complicated.

Let’s take movies, for example.

Would you ask me; “Was You’ve Got Mail better than The Terminator?”

Better how?

One is a romantic comedy. The other is an action/sci-fi film. They are trying to achieve completely different things. I want to believe that I can enjoy both movies without having to decide which one is the superior movie.

Frankly, It’s the same thing with books.

Colleen Hoover writes the kind of books she writes. Her books have their own style, themes and readership. Let’s forget that many people don’t like her for whatever reasons they choose not to.
Chimamanda writes the kind of books she writes, with her own style, themes and readership… And I agree, she is a genius. I know she is a genius.

You can prefer one. Yup, of course you can.

You can say, I connect more with Chimamanda’s writing… Or you can say, I prefer Colleen Hoover’s storytelling.

You can even say, I don’t enjoy either of them. Yes… Trust me, this option exists.

All of those options are perfectly reasonable opinions.

So now when we ask, Who is the better writer? we suddenly create this imaginary competition where one person has to win and the other has to lose.

I think out loud and ask you… why?

I think one of the things we forget as readers is that books don’t all have to do the same thing.

Sometimes I want a book that makes me think. Sometimes I want something that teaches me something. Sometimes I want beautiful prose and complicated themes that leave me quizzical.

And sometimes? I just want to lie down and read a story. A simple story.  That’s allowed too. It’s just like when I want to lie down and watch a simple movie I go for cheesy, sweet and simple Hallmark.

So seriously, I must say, I find some of these book debates amusing. We take two completely different things and put them in a boxing ring and then get angry because people are choosing different fighters.

Maybe the better question isn’t Chimamanda or Colleen Hoover?

Maybe it’s: What do you enjoy reading, and why?
Should I Gbam again?

The thing is, I don’t need Colleen Hoover to write like Chimamanda for me to appreciate Colleen Hoover.

And I don’t need Chimamanda to write like Colleen Hoover for me to appreciate Chimamanda.

There is room on my bookshelf for different kinds of writers.

And honestly, there is room in the world for us to like different things without turning every preference into a competition.

Not everything needs a winner.


Some books by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie:
Purple Hibiscus (2003)
Half of a Yellow Sun (2006)
The Thing Around Your Neck (2009) — short stories
Americanah (2013)
Dear Ijeawele, or A Feminist Manifesto in Fifteen Suggestions (2017)
Notes on Grief (2021)
Dream Count (2025)


Some books by Colleen Hoover:
Losing Hope (2013)
Maybe Someday (2014)
Confess (2015)
It Ends with Us (2016)
It Starts with Us (2022)
Without Merit (2017)
Verity (2018)
Regretting You (2019)
All Your Perfects (2018)
Reminders of Him (2022)
November 9 (2015)
Ugly Love (2014)

Hello Substack

A couple of weeks ago, my personal assistant, a young man I’m getting to know and mentor introduced me to Substack.

He told me he had gone through my WordPress and liked what he saw. Then he asked me if I knew about Substack. I told him I had heard about it, but I didn’t really know much about it. So he sent me the link, and I joined.

I even found a few of my contacts, people I know, on Substack. I did a little reading, saw that people were sharing their writing, and I thought, okay, I could do this too.

But something hit me. It didn’t feel like me. It didn’t feel like home.

Now, looking back, I think I understand why.

Substack feels more like a general public place, where so many people have something to say. Not that WordPress isn’t that, but to me, Substack feels more like a magazine. There are so many voices, so much going on, so much interaction.

And I like that. I really do.

But WordPress feels different to me.

WordPress, where I put up my articles, feels like home.

I am the kind of person who looks forward to putting my articles together and, someday, having a collection of them in a book. I want a collection of short stories. I want to be able to gather my thoughts and words and turn them into something I can hold, something that stays.

I’m a library kind of person.

So WordPress makes sense to me. I like knowing that I can go there, or someone can stumble across it three years from now, and they can get a sense of my thoughts, my words, the things I have written over time.

They would be able to go through the different categories… love, friendships, life, God, gospel, and so on and so forth.

It feels like a collection. It feels like me.

I like the idea of being able to design the page the way I want, so that when people come, it reflects me. It reflects how I see things. It reflects the kind of space I want to create.

So, I’m not throwing Substack away.

I like the interaction there. I like the idea of meeting other writers and seeing what people are thinking and writing about. It’s very similar to WordPress and I have made some great friends here on WordPress. So, I’m going to explore it and see what it is.

But I also know that if I make it my main writing platform, I might eventually get overwhelmed with the need to keep up with the back and forth and everything that comes with it.

And I don’t want writing to become another thing I have to keep up with.

So, for now, this is me saying we Hello to Substack.

Let me see it. Let me try it. Let me participate.

Substack is where I can participate. WordPress is somewhere I belong.

And I think I’m okay with that.

My home is still my home.

And I hope to keep it for as long as I can.

Joy in Writing

One of my mentees at the bake shop reached out to me last year. After all the pleasantries, she said:

“I was just checking to see if you are okay. I noticed you have been writing everyday on your blog. I was wondering if you are fine”.

I went ahead to explain to her how the reverse was the case. When I’m happy, I write.

Yesterday I scanned through my history and I realized that the 3 pieces I wrote in June were written because it was a part of the 7 day Self and story challenge I had started at the end of May. I didn’t write in June.

I smiled and remembered June. June was sad for me. Depressing at some point. I’m glad I’m better now.

I’m glad I’m writing again.

Writing is a beautiful thing.