How to Start — and Finish — Writing a Novel

Author Suzette Mayr, ’92 MA, jokes that she probably got paid five cents an hour for the work she did on her latest novel, The Sleeping Car Porter. Sure, the book won the 2022 Scotiabank Giller Prize — Canada’s most lucrative literary prize with a cash purse of $100,000 — but it also took two decades to write.

The novel required her to do a staggering amount of research into a history that is largely undocumented to tell the story of Baxter, a closeted queer Black man who works as a sleeping car porter on a train in 1929. The project eventually became what Mayr describes as her background novel, toiling away at it between teaching and writing other novels (five, to be exact).

So how did Mayr stay on track? She shares some takeaways from the process of writing her first work of historical fiction and her most ambitious project to date.

Make it personal

Mayr’s friend and former creative writing teacher, Fred Wah, planted the seed that inspired her to write about sleeping car porters roughly 20 years ago. But as a queer Black woman, Mayr struggled for years to find a way to relate to this untold part of Canadian history — let alone write about it.

Her writing didn’t really pick up steam until she started uncovering facts that aligned with her own family’s story. Take, for instance, the fact that some sleeping car porters were recruited from the Bahamas, where her mother is from.

“It was a really, really exciting, eye-opening moment where I thought, ‘Wait a second, maybe I am writing about family,’” says Mayr. “I did that thing that we make fun of some academics for: the whole research, ‘me-search’ idea, where I was kind of looking for myself.”

She also found that imbuing her main character with traits of her own — like her queerness and her love of ‘weird’ and horror fiction — allowed her to more fully identify with his story. “Eventually I thought, I can write this book set in 1929 even though I am not a historical fiction writer because I can understand the psychology of this person.”

Begin with the end

Mayr had long wanted to write the book she couldn’t find anywhere on bookstore shelves. Not just a book about Black queer history, but a book about Black joy — one that inspires, supports and uplifts Black culture.

“There’s much more representation of Black people out there nowadays, but so much of it is about Black suffering. Somebody always dies or is punished for being who they are,” says Mayr. Even in moments of self-doubt, she remained committed to telling Baxter’s story as a counterpoint to the public discourse that focuses on Black trauma and pain.

And it paid off. “One of the most gratifying responses I’ve had to the book was from a young queer BIPOC woman who kept thinking that it wasn’t going to end well. She was shocked by the happy ending.”

Put in the work

Mayr chalks up her stick-to-itiveness to a graduate-level fiction course she took at the U of A with author Rudy Wiebe, ’56 BA, ’60 MA, ’09 DLitt (Honorary). He was notoriously ruthless in his feedback and brusk in his demeanour, but Mayr looked up to him as a role model — especially when it came to his approach to writing.

“We weren’t ever allowed to phone him — this was pre-email — or contact him before noon because he was too busy working. I really took to heart his completely workmanlike approach to writing and his passion for the written word,” says Mayr, who has been teaching creative writing at the University of Calgary since 2003.

“That work ethic and that commitment to the power of fiction is something I’ll carry with me forever.”

Learn the rules — then break them

Mayr describes herself more as an “enthusiastic amateur” than as a historian. So she knew that she had to devote time to mastering the art of the genre before making it her own.

“I was lacking confidence in writing historical fiction, so it was important for me to get all the details right,” says Mayr. “I had to have all my ducks in a row so that if I decided to play with history and be anachronistic, it was a conscious choice.”

It was only after she found her footing in this new genre that she felt free to play around with the readers’ expectations. She describes The Sleeping Car Porter more as a work of “weird fiction,” a genre that’s set in the real world but where there is something a bit off-kilter or strange.

“I hope people come away from the book with the idea that maybe the main character is hallucinating because he hasn’t had enough sleep. Or maybe some of it is real. But you can’t really tell.”

Find your people (and your publisher)

While most novels have a dedication and an acknowledgements section, Mayr had to add sections for works she consulted and notes to recognize the many people who helped her stay the course over the years.

“A lot of people helped me write this book and if I hadn’t had the help of every single one of them, there would be something fundamental missing or I wouldn’t have been able to finish it.”

She also recognizes the valuable role played by small publishers and independent bookstores in supporting a thriving and diverse literary community. She feels particularly indebted to Coach House Books, which has published her last three novels.

“It’s the small bookstores and small presses that are really driving the more risky literature in this country. I can’t emphasize the importance of that enough.”