Algerian writer and author of Sand Roses, Hamza Koudri, wants readers to understand that there is no one-size-fits-all approach to culture: ‘Communities are diverse and what you learn about a specific place does not entirely apply to the whole community… Culture varies with every step you take across time and space, and while it is important to familiarize yourself with the dynamic parts of the country and its past, you shouldn’t take anything for granted.’
First Draft is our interview column, featuring authors and other prominent figures on books, reading, and writing.
Our questions are italicized.
What books or kinds of books did you read growing up?
I remember going through countless fables and children’s stories as a kid. Back then, you would have an endless supply of your typical Aesop’s fables (‘The Ant and the Grasshopper’, ‘The Lion and the Mouse’, ‘The Tortoise and the Hare’, ‘The Goose that Laid the Golden Eggs’), and Hans Christian Andersen stories (‘The Emperor’s New Clothes’, ‘The Ugly Duckling’, ‘The Wild Swans.’) We also had lots of religious stories adapted in children’s stories format. I devoured anything I could get my hands on.
Also, it so happened that a small publishing house operated a printing workshop literally in my grandmother’s front yard. You can imagine the thrill of watching the employees work the roaring machines, printing and folding and cutting until the thick rams of large paper turned into a mountain of books. The nice workers would give my cousins and me books that did not make the quality standards. That was how I was introduced, way too young, to Lebanese romance by Pierre Raphael and historical fiction by Algerian writer, Waciny Laredj. I also read translated work of Lebanese-French author Amine Maalouf. At school, they had us read another series of fables, ‘Kalila and Demna’, and Muhammad Husayn Haykal’s 1913 novel Zaynab, which we were told was the first Arabic novel.
Up until that point, I was mostly reading in Arabic. My French, unlike many of my peers’, was not that good, but in high school, I was getting better at English, so they sent me to participate in a U.S.-embassy-funded programme half-way across town, which meant I would spend many hours bussing back home. I remember reading my first books in English back then, which I borrowed from the school library. At first, it was the graded readers. Crime, mystery and, of course, history always had a place. One book that stuck with me was John Milne’s Queen of Death. The first full book I read in English was Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Tom Sawyer.
If your life so far was a series of texts, which text (fiction or non-fiction) represents you at this moment?
The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway. I read the book a while back, and what stuck with me was the constant tug of war between the challenges life throws at you and the grit and resilience with which to fight back. My life at the moment feels so much like that. We can’t deny the fact that we are living in a very unstable world. Conflicts, climate change and the economy throw challenges at us on a daily basis, but it is also genuinely inspiring to see the human capacity to live through it all and find small moments of joy that keep us going. For me, writing is a refuge that gives me that peace of mind and fulfilment that keeps me going. And it is not just when I am sitting to write. I think about my book when I am driving, or have time to kill, and it is the last thing I think about when I go to bed. This allows me to shut out all the noise and just focus on a single thought that calms me down. And in so doing, I am reminded of Santiago’s stoicism in his fight against the sea and what lies beneath it.
What’s the last thing you read and disagreed with?
I have to admit, I rarely find myself disagreeing strongly with anything I read. It probably means I should be diversifying what I read a bit more. That said, I often struggle with books that portray certain cultures in derogatory or stereotypical ways. A few examples come to mind, like Paul Bowles’s The Sheltering Sky, where the desert is described as an all-consuming wilderness with bestial, immoral inhabitants, and Pierre Loti Les Trois Dames de la Kasbah where women in Algiers are presented as the exotic harem from olden times. It is crazy to imagine a period when these stories shaped the world’s view of our neck of the woods, and it behoves us to tell our stories ourselves.
Conflicts, climate change and the economy throw challenges at us on a daily basis, but it is also genuinely inspiring to see the human capacity to live through it all and find small moments of joy that keep us going.
What’s the last thing you read that changed your mind about something?
Why We Sleep by Matthew Walker. It is a popular science book about sleep and dreams written by a professor of neuroscience and psychology. Drawing from decades of scientific research and clinical practice, Walker explores, chapter by chapter, how sleep affects every aspect of our physical and mental well-being. I listened to the audiobook version, and I remember most chapters started with one great benefit of sleep each—say learning, for example, or memory, or emotional balance, or cancer prevention. The chapters then went on to explain how good sleep (good in terms of duration and quality) can work to improve that specific point. Then, just like a horror movie, it would go into what happens when you don’t get enough good-quality sleep presenting you with some terrible negative effects on the brain, the body and emotions. People even find you less attractive with less hours of sleep!
Before reading the book, I never really prioritized sleep, often trying to make do with five hours a night. But Walker’s cautionary tale has haunted me ever since, and now I start to worry if I am not in bed by nine-thirty pm or ten pm. What a life of the party I must be, right?
What is your writing process: edit as you write or draft first, then edit?
Most people would tell you to draft first then edit, and I tend to agree with that. Editing as you write would only slow down the process and stifle your creative flow. I am often tempted to stop and do some light editing, but I try to restrict myself with a few conditions. For example, I can only edit at the start of the writing session, never once I start writing. I only re-read the last bit I wrote and never go further back. That, at least, helps reconnect with what I last wrote and pick up the lines. It also helps satisfy my urge to edit a bit without breaking the flow. When I can, I wait until the end of the chapter then reread the whole thing. With some training, I hope I will be able to cut this down even further, but for now it is working well.
What was your process for writing your debut novel, Sand Roses?
The best way I can describe that process is the Snowflake Method. Think of a tiny snowflake rolling down a hill, gaining volume and weight until it turns into a big snowball and then, in the case of a gigantic novel like mine, an avalanche. I started by trying to capture the whole story in a sentence or two. Then developed a paragraph (which eventually served to form the back cover blurb). The paragraph expanded into a page-long synopsis. I tried to keep control of the main beats of the story, so as not to lose sight of the main characters’ journeys. The next step was to develop an outline, and because I opted for a dual time-line story (a huge challenge for a debut novel), I needed to keep firm control of details to avoid discrepancies (God forbid our main character meets the villain twice for the first time or wears her favourite blue dress before she buys it!) The outline kept growing organically, with one-line descriptions growing into paragraphs. At one point I had a 40-page document with the outline and all the details I needed. By then I only needed to expand the chapters, but I did not want to be restricted by that, so I treated it more like a live document. As the writing started, I didn’t hesitate to make major changes to the plot. It meant I needed to spend more time adapting the outline to the new vision, but I really enjoyed that whole process, so I never really minded it.
The whole process (from conception to bookshelves) took the better part of a decade for several reasons. First, I had a full-time job, leaving little time for the project. Second, it being historical fiction, I needed to research everything, down to small details like when the town was connected to the electric grid, the schedule of the bus connecting Bousaada with Algiers, and what type of makeup and perfume Ouled Nail dancers wore back then. That meant that I needed to pause my writing often to look something up. It was very common for me to spend a whole week researching just for a single paragraph or page; Sometimes for a mere sentence that got cut out in the editing process anyway. Once I had established my setting and characters, I was able to move much faster. That whole first draft took about two years, but I remember it was 20 per cent in the first 18 months and I wrote 80 per cent in the last six months.
The first draft was 180,000 words long (around 600 pages), and so the next challenge was getting that to a reasonable length for publication. It was also an opportunity to get beta-reader feedback, and I was lucky enough to find friends and complete strangers willing to read the manuscript and provide valuable insights that helped me improve the book. The initial editing process took a good two years before I thought it was ready for querying, and I continued to work on it throughout the querying period until I got to a point where I thought I would break the book if I continued to edit without professional help.
Sand Roses is ‘set in the scorching world of 1930s colonial Algeria and is a tale of sisterhood, sacrifice and the fight for liberation.’ What inspired this story?
The idea for Sand Roses came when I stumbled upon a podcast by a French historian, Aurelie Perrier, who spoke about prostitution in Algiers in the colonial and ottoman epochs, and, in passing, mentioned the Ouled Nail dancers. That spurred me on to dig deeper into this unique culture, which we knew so little about in Algeria. I was fascinated by how popular they had been, their reputation drawing tourists and artists from all over the world to come see them in Algerian desert towns like Bousaada and Biskra. The portraits, photographs and music of the Ouled Nail dancers travelled the world, but their way of life slowly dissipated, leaving only fleeting images and statues standing as reminders of a different era.
I found out so much about the Ouled Nail dancers’ clothing and jewellery, but also their struggles with gender and racial segregation in colonial times. The way they took ownership of their bodies and finances, and their resilience in the face of oppression and violence had universal lessons to share. For a writer, this presented an invaluable opportunity to capture all of this in a historical thriller.
Research for this novel took the better part of a decade. Which book, author or cultural/historical event had the most influence on your approach to writing it?
The fact that the whole book is based on a culture that existed in the past had the most influence on my approach, as I tried to, in a way, excavate life in Bousaada in the 1930s and capture the general mood as well as the journeys of these women. So, there is that.
As far as books go, I often bring up a valuable writing tip I read somewhere: ‘write what you enjoy reading and read what you enjoy writing.’ I have always been a huge fan of historical fiction, particularly enjoying books by Ken Follet and C.J. Sansom because of the character-knitting artistry. So, it was natural that, in writing Sand Roses, I also tried to imitate things that I liked about books like theirs. It was very important to me that the story, despite it being a historical thriller, did not just stand on plot-twists and a fast pace but rather sought to connect the reader with characters at a human level.
I should also note that I often pitch Sand Roses as a Memoirs of a Geisha set in North Africa, and quite frankly, Arthur Golden’s masterpiece served as a compass for me to navigate a similar story.
The portraits, photographs and music of the Ouled Nail dancers travelled the world, but their way of life slowly dissipated, leaving only fleeting images and statues standing as reminders of a different era.
Your novel was a runner-up for the 2022 Island Prize for Debut African Novels. What’s one thing about readers’ reactions to Sand Roses that surprised you?
The Island Prize in 2022 was a life-changing moment for my writing journey because for the first time, my manuscript was formally recognized, and it connected me to a network of publishing professionals, to whose kindness and support I am forever grateful, particularly the prize founder, Karen Jennings, and Robert Peet from Holland House. That was also how I got an offer of publication, and, hence, my journey into publishing started.
Since publication, Sand Roses has no longer been mine alone, but rather a product of the readers. I have really appreciated all the positive feedback I have gotten from readers in Algeria and parts of the world where the book is available (the United Kingdom, Nigeria, South Africa and Kenya). Algerian literature, typically published in Arabic or French, usually travels mostly only across the Arab world or Francophone countries. But Sand Roses, being in English, has reached places where people are not very familiar with Algerian stories, so I have really loved hearing from readers who were learning about a part of Algerian history and culture that they did not know about.
But I must say, the most heart-warming reaction I get from readers comes from young Algerians, who not only are excited to be reading an Algerian story published in English but also appreciate the chance to reconnect with their history. A few people have come up to me or wrote to me online saying how the story encouraged them to speak to their parents or grandparents from this region, ask about the Ouled Nail culture and other parts of their ancestors’ history. That, to me, makes all the years of hard work worthwhile.
What is the most meaningful piece of writing advice you’ve ever received?
The piece of advice that I found most useful was, ‘protect the process.’ When I first started working on Sand Roses, I would write only whenever I had the time and inspiration, and with a demanding job, that was not often. That meant long breaks away from the story and characters, and when I finally sat down to write, it would take me forever to find my bearings, sometimes I would even struggle to recognize the character speaking. That was not good.
But it all changed when I took that advice seriously and started to look for a few key timeslots that I knew I could commit to come rain or shine. I already woke up at five o’clock in the morning to swim two to three times a week, and I always joke about how, funnily, emergencies never happen at five o’clock in the morning. So, I decided to pick three days a week when I would wake up at five o’clock to write. And sure enough, I was able to not only move faster with the story, but to also easily pick up where I left off the previous session. Of course, there are times when you cannot write much, but there is always work to do: research, outlining, light-touch editing. Sometimes I would write a paragraph or a page or even a chapter I knew I would change or remove, but another great piece of writing advice is, you have to write through the bad stuff to get to the good stuff.
And what’s the first book you read that made you think you wanted to be a writer?
It is hard to pinpoint a single book. Again, for me, the fascination has always been more with storytelling and character arcs than with the writing per se. But there are always books with that you connect at an emotional level so much that you have the urge to drop everything and get working on a story. Those, for me, include Hard Times by Charles Dickens, Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie and The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini. Follet and Sansom always do that for me, too.
What book from North Africa do you feel has not yet received the attention it deserves?
Again, hard to pick a single book. I often think of Meissa Bey as a prolific Algerian writer with so much emotion in her stories that can be shared with the world. To my knowledge, only a couple of books have been translated to English, hence her works in French remain only accessible in Algeria, France and a few Francophone parts of the continent.
Which three books on Algeria should everyone be reading at this moment?
There are some fantastic books written by Algerians or about Algeria, but I will take the question for its face value, the operative word being ‘at this moment.’
I often recommend What the Day Owes the Night by Yasmina Khadra as a fantastic historical novel with some very well-crafted characters. And bonus points: the movie adaptation is to die for.
Andrew Farrand’s non-fiction The Algerian Dream provides a great account of Algeria’s history and how that led to recent events in the country, told from the perspective of an American who lived and worked in Algeria for years, and really centres around Algerian youths and their aspirations, as the title indicates.
And finally, Mokhtar Mokhtefi’s memoirs, I Was a French Muslim: Memories of an Algerian Freedom Fighter chronicles Mokhtefi’s childhood in occupied Algeria, and how he dedicated his life to fight for freedom, then passing on to the aftermath of independence, depicting all the exciting opportunities and challenges facing the country at the time.
I found out so much about the Ouled Nail dancers’ clothing and jewellery, but also their struggles with gender and racial segregation in colonial times. The way they took ownership of their bodies and finances, and their resilience in the face of oppression and violence.
What’s one thing readers should be aware of when reading about Algeria?
When reading about any country in the world, one should bear in mind that communities are diverse and what you learn about a specific place does not entirely apply to the whole community. That is particularly true about a country the size of Algeria, the biggest in Africa, with such diverse cultures and a very dynamic history. So, what you read about the Touareg communities in the south does not necessarily apply to the Kabyles in the North or urban settings across the country. What might have been a reality only 20 years ago may not necessarily continue to be the case today. Take the example of Sand Roses, which depicts a very unique culture that used to exist in a specific part of the country. People nowadays struggle to believe the possibility that such practices used to exist in Algeria, except people from these towns whose parents and grandparents still remember a recent past when these dancers used to roam their streets. But this is not to say all Ouled Nail tribes had the same practices.
Culture varies with every step you take across time and space, and while it is important to familiarize yourself with the dynamic parts of the country and its past, you shouldn’t take anything for granted.
You can only read one book for the rest of your life. It’s:
I rarely re-read books or re-watch movies or TV shows. But one book I did read several times was Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird for the simple reason that I wrote my master’s thesis on racial, class and gender segregation in the book. Embarrassingly, that work took years to complete (that seems to be a pattern with me—I am sure you know by now), but it allowed me to re-read the book several times and grow to appreciate it differently with every reading. It is one of those books that keep on giving, and you keep on discovering subtle things each time you engage with it.
What’s the last great book someone recommended to you?
Cal by Bernard MacLaverty. The book was gifted to me by Karen Jennings with a note saying she thought I would enjoy it, and I loved it so much. Contrary to the type of books I usually read (and write), Cal is a pretty short novel centred around one main character, a young Catholic man living in a Protestant community during the Northern Ireland Troubles in the 1980s. I really enjoyed how the book slowly allows us to discover the main character through his struggles, his beliefs and his relationships with his father, friends and a love interest. As the story unfolds at a leisurely pace, plot twists land discreetly as though stepping on snow, yet the emotional impact is very powerful. I would recommend that book to anyone seeking to connect with a very well-crafted character.
And what’s a book that brings you joy?
I have never thought of this before, but the first book that comes to mind is A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman. It is a fun story filled with hilarious scenes, but not without an underlying layer of deeply humane interactions. Ove is a grumpy old man who has lost hope in the world, but an interaction with a new, persistent, neighbour, quickly challenges his view on life, despite his own efforts to shut her and her family out. It is one of those stories that have universal lessons to share with the world, and it is particularly relevant to today’s world where conflict runs rife, reminding us of the importance of treasuring common grounds rather than quarrelling over differences.
What is your favourite topic to write or read about these days?
These days, I find myself reading a lot about indigenous cultures and intercultural engagements. I just finished an audiobook titled To Sir, With Love by E. R. Braithwaite. It is an autobiographical novel chronicling the Guyanese-born British-American writer’s experience teaching in the East End of London, and experiencing, first-hand, the politics of race and class in post-war London. Another book I am reading is Shubnum Khan’s masterpiece, The Lost Love of Akbar Manzil. She describes it as a book about a little girl and a haunted house, and it is very accurate but there is also so much more than that. It is a book about people from different backgrounds, grappling with their identities and their origins while they try to cohabit in a common space and time. Pretty much our world encapsulated in a big house.
Apart from that, I have also been reading biographies for research as I work on my next book.
Culture varies with every step you take across time and space, and while it is important to familiarize yourself with the dynamic parts of the country and its past, you shouldn’t take anything for granted.
What are you currently working on?
I am working on a stand-alone sequel to Sand Roses, set twenty years after the events of the first book. We get to see some characters again and there is a host of new ones, as well. The central character is a young woman who is half-Algerian and half-French. As the Battle of Algiers erupts around her, we see her struggling with her identity and belonging. The setting is different from small-town Bousaada with mountains and desert all around. This time it is a humid Algiers overlooking the shimmering azure Mediterranean Sea, with seagulls soaring above. It is set in the middle of an urban guerrilla warfare, and readers are in for a historical tour of the city through car chases up and down the hills and on-foot pursuits through the labyrinthine streets of the Casbah.
Question from Musih Tedji Xaviere: Do you think fiction writers have a way of seeing the future?
I like this question, and my answer is yes, and no, but yes. Hear me out. I think just like fortune-tellers, writers’ true talent is not seeing the future, but rather reading the past and present, which then allows us to foretell many potential futures. Writers spend a lot of time fleshing out stories, uncovering human psyche and perfecting the art of plotting. We also observe the world around us and sometimes get geeky about researching the most niche things out there. And I think all of this helps writers understand the world in a transcendent way that allows us to make a few educated guesses about where things are headed, and one of those guesses at least is bound to pan out, right?
Think of it like how people are always fascinated with The Simpsons’ ability to tell the future. But when you think about it. That show has been running for decades with hundreds of episodes. A few of those episodes had to get something right about the future.
This is not to take away from the writer’s extraordinary skills. On the contrary, I think it highlights their insightful views on life and ability to read the past, present and future.
Bonus: Please suggest a question for a future author’s First Draft
What would you like to be the legacy you leave behind?
Who should we interview next?
Djawad Rostom Touati from Algeria and Karen Jennings from South Africa. Also, several Island Prize winners and runners-up are making a name for themselves across the continent and beyond. That includes Sarah Isaacs, Reem Gaafar, Simbarashe Steyn Kundizeza, Marina Auer and Andile Cele⎈
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