Your short stories have garnered nominations and awards. You have also written a couple of plays, some of which have played on radio, and so I suppose, the inevitable question is - which is your favourite form - the short story, the play or the novel?

To be honest I feel it's too early to tell. I haven't put in enough writer years. I know these days there is pressure on writers to be literary sensations and talk as if they have mastered their craft, but I believe in long-term apprenticeships. I started writing short stories in 2002 because someone suggested I should. I had honestly never thought of writing a short story before. My favourite short stories were written by writers with strong voices like Milan Kundera, Edwidge Danticat and Grace Paley. I wanted to read shorts not write them. Plus, I didn't know a thing about the literary marketplace. My first attempt at a short story was hacking a failed novel to bits and reshaping it. I sent it off to a magazine someone suggested. The story was published, so I wrote another and submitted to the first online magazine that appeared on the Internet when I did a search. Not only did they publish the story, they nominated it for all the awards: Pushcart, O Henry, and Best of American Shorts. I'd heard of the Pushcart, but that was the first time I'd heard of the other awards and of course I was surprised about the nominations. I still didn't know anything about print journals, so I looked up contests and entered my third story for the Zoetrope contest, only because I liked the name and saw the reference to Francis Ford Coppola, so I thought, hm, that sounds interesting. I almost fell off my chair when I checked their website a few months later and saw my name as a prize winner. After that, I had serious performance anxiety. I guess that was where craft became necessary. I was trying to do too many things with my short stories, battling with form, taking risks. I did not want to be another lyrical voice. I wrote some dreadful stories even though I tried to convince myself that the journals were not ready for them. Novels give me space to fail, so I don't feel so anxious writing them. I enjoy the time I spend with characters in novels. I've written two. Everything and a second novel Swallow about a Nigerian woman who is recruited as a heroin mule. I'm working on a third.

And the plays?

I have so much fun writing my plays. My radio plays have been broadcast on BBC Africa and worldwide. I love having that kind of access, that kind of contact with listeners. My plays are suited for community theater and I have had a couple of requests to stage them. One was from Joke Silva and Olu Jacob's theater company in Nigeria. Another was from a theater company in Malawi. I plan to write more plays.

One of the issues that come up again and again when speaking to Nigerian writers is the difficulty of trying to get published. The recent controversy over the literature prize in Nigeria, which excluded Nigerians living abroad on the premise that they had more exposure and opportunities, underline this. What has your own experience been?

My publishing experience has been fairly typical for any writer: rejection, rejection, rejection, acceptance, elation, rejection. I'm more savvy about the literary marketplace now and sometimes it can feel like a club you're constantly getting bounced from, and the only writers not complaining are those who are getting into the VIP lounge. It's hard for all writers. I really can't afford to dwell on the trials I face as a Nigerian writer. The book description on the cover of my novel purposefully refers to my voice as an important new one. If a voice is really considered important, no one needs to say it is. But the flipside of passion for art can be ugly and I don't want to go there. Sometimes I whine. I'd rather be doing something about my situation or writing. For instance, with my novel, I've had to compromise and be more hands-on than I expected. I've had to reach out to other writers and people in publishing in order to spread the news about my novel. Some of them are my friends and they have been unbelievably supportive.

And following on from that, Amy Tan has recently spoken about the challenges that face the minority writer in America, where your work is always characterized as Asian American or African-American and never as just American. Similarly I recently heard David Leavitt speak of how the US publishing industry and the bookshops and media foster the impression that people ought to be reading about people like them - so an Asian woman should be reading books by Asian women and the books are marketed that way. What has it been like writing in America?

Writers are not protected from discrimination. When I worked as an accountant I dealt with discrimination and I'm still dealing with it now. It's funny, looking back from my first writing class, it feels like I've been on one long audition, standing before an audience who is yelling, What have you got? Go on, tell us an African story! You can't? How about an immigrant story then? What do you mean you don't know what an immigrant story is? That's my impression. America is big enough to embrace all sorts of writers and literature has to be genuinely inclusive. It must insist on the full dimension, range, complexity and essence of the human experience. It cannot accommodate writers because of what they contribute to the cultural landscape and be satisfied with that. But that is the publishing process. I'm more concerned about the impact of all this on my writing process. I have seen that in America there are rewards for writing under the Western gaze, you know, orientating myself towards the West, which could mean anything from making basic concessions like explaining every mundane detail relating to Nigeria, to making larger concessions like telling stories that fulfill stereotypical Out Of Africa expectations. Stories that simplify or distort the experiences of Africans. Stories that are racist even when they appear benign. For example--a simple example this is--it is rare to read about doctors like you who have worked in city hospitals and clinics as do most doctors in Africa, but look how often Dr. Ngongo operating in a missionary facility in the bush pops up in film scripts. Honestly, as a reader, you have to develop a sense of humor. Sometimes, you can't even relate to some of these so-called African characters, what they're saying or the situations they are in. As a writer, you also have to fight the temptation to slip in an African clich? or two in order to make your story more publishable in America. My tendency is to rebel and say no, I'm not going to refer to a single tropical fruit, exotic plant, spice, evil spirit, proverb, bare-breasted woman or whatever is expected in an African story. Then I tell myself, just tell the story. It has to come back to this: storytelling. At the revision stage, I try to make sure all elements are in context and there is an overall sense of perspective. Integrity is essential. I look to Fela as an example to follow. He took his native influences, foreign influences and developed an expression that was uniquely his.

I loved Peace, the gum-chewing secretary who presents a sick certificate with "General Body Weakness" as the diagnosis. I'm sure I have known a hundred Peace's turning up in my consulting room demanding sick papers because "their bodies are paining" That must have come from real life experience?

In 1986 I worked in Citibank in Lagos. I was in treasury operations with four men and we'd be at work from about 7.30 in the mornings until about 9.30 at night. One of them was always popping pills. I asked why and he said it was for his GBW. So I asked what that meant and he explained General Body Weakness and then he showed me his doctor's note. Sure enough.

There are several different portraits of Nigerian women in the book - from Enitan's mother driven by grief to the white-garment churches, to her mother-in-law put upon by her brood of sons, to Sheri's stepmothers to Enitan and Sheri negotiating their way through contemporary Nigerian society. Was it very difficult painting these various shades?

Yes, it was. I was concerned about portraying characters that Nigerians could recognize, not the stereotypes that others expect. Enitan's mother in particular worried me. I had her wearing those white church gowns and acting superstitious. I could see Nigerians rolling their eyes at me and saying, you had to go and bring that up. The fact is that there are women like Mrs. Taiwo in my neighbourhood in Lagos. Yes, they are driven to churches by grief, but they also have some semblance of power and freedom in these churches. Their churches are communities outside the communities that failed them. Exile communities. Enitan's mother-in-law, Mrs. Franco, was a challenge too. She may be put upon but she gets sympathy from her sons and husband because she is so obliging. She also sets standards Enitan cannot meet.. Sheri Bakare was another challenge. She is not a character that shows up often in literature and I could see feminists dismissing her. But she is a better negotiator than Enitan, less vulnerable and she doesn't seek approval. I was surprised to read a book description that referred to her as lower-class because she was raised in a traditional home. They misunderstood her situation. You mentioned Sheri's grandmother Alhaja. She is a highly celebrated character in African literature, the strong matriarch placed on a pedestal. Nigerian men just adore her. I see her as a woman who has survived our culture by becoming a soldier of the chauvinists. On one hand I admire her, but on the other, she keeps other women in check. I wanted these characters to reveal the power conflicts between women and between men and women. It's now that I see that the story itself is a study of power and the characters that Enitan interacts with are like landmarks on the route she takes towards empowering herself.

And when exactly is this book coming out? Are there any plans to publish in Nigeria?

It's available right now through online retailers like Amazon.com and BarnesandNoble.com. My publishers, Interlink will launch it over the next couple of months as part of their spring 2005 catalogue. Farafina plan to publish it in Nigeria. They will approach my publishers and hopefully come to an agreement. Farafina published the Nigerian edition of Chimamanda's Purple Hibiscus.

What are your plans for the future? Are you working on something now?

I'm travelling for readings and revising my second novel Swallow. I'm waiting to see how readers will respond to Everything.

Thank you for talking and I hope Everything Good comes.