Like the music that inspired them, hip-hop novels are finding passionate fans on the mean streets and among those who just visit them in their daydreams. In 16 months, Stringer’s Triple Crown Publications has put out 14 titles and sold 300,000 trade paperbacks. Now New York editors who once rejected Stringer are snatching up her authors and rushing out hip-hop novels of their own. “Hip-hop fiction is doing for 15- to 25-year-old African-Americans what ‘Harry Potter’ did for kids,” says Matt Campbell, a buyer for Waldenbooks. “Getting a new audience excited about books.”
Stringer’s journey from cocaine dealer to publishing mini-mogul may have been fast, but it wasn’t easy. Five years ago Stringer, then 30, emerged from a five-year stint in federal prison with the manuscript of her first novel, the story of her own rise and fall in the drug trade, called “Let That Be the Reason.” “I read a lot, especially in prison,” says Stringer, who once pledged a sorority at Western Michigan University before dropping out to join the outlaw life. “Donald Goines and Sister Souljah were all big inspirations to me.” Mainstream publishers, though, wouldn’t touch her book. So Stringer printed 1,500 copies and took to the road. Repurposing her well-honed sales patter, she hawked her novel in beauty parlors and barbershops and to street book vendors.
The book became an underground hit, and bookstores began to stock it. Soon other would-be authors were sending Stringer manuscripts, and Triple Crown was born. Not everyone’s happy to see the new genre take hold. Some booksellers complain that Triple Crown titles like “Gangsta” glorify drugs and violence. Others grouse about misspellings and incomprehensible slang. “We aren’t dealing with polished authors,” says Stringer. “Honestly, we clean up the manuscripts as best we can.”
Mainstream publishers now say hip-hop fiction is just the kind of hot new genre they’ve been looking for. St. Martin’s Press has snapped up three Triple Crown authors, and Atria Books has signed Stringer to a two-book deal. “You can teach someone how to structure a paragraph or deepen a character,” but you can’t teach authenticity, says Atria editor Malaika Adero. Stringer says moving to the big time won’t stop her from writing books about life on the street. No one can pressure her, she says, “because I’m a proven sellable commodity.” She has her fans to thank for that.
