Emerging Writers Series: Sara Haddad
“The important thing to note about The Sunbird is its intentionality – I wrote it with a very specific objective in mind. It wasn’t just that I wanted to write a story; I wanted to write a story that would open people’s hearts and minds to Palestine.”
In case you missed our recent review of Sara Haddad’s self-published bestseller, The Sunbird (2024), it’s a short, powerful novella that charts one character—Nabila Yasmeen—from her experiences of the 1948 Nakba in Palestine to present-day Australia.
Sara Haddad, a Lebanese Australian editor and writer based in Sydney on Gadigal Land, wrote the book with the single intention of highlighting the long-reaching and persistent impact of the Israel-Palestine conflict and demonstrating that the past and present are intimately, painfully connected.
Sara speaks with us about intentionality in writing, the self-publishing journey, and the personal cathartic experience that writing The Sunbird was for her.
Hi Sara, I think a great place to start would be with a little about yourself and the motivation behind your debut, The Sunbird?
I don’t really think of myself as a writer but rather as an editor who writes. I’ve never really allowed myself too much time to write, and I’m not sure why, because it’s an activity that brings me the most satisfaction.
I’ve been working with words for a long time, but almost always other people’s words. The important thing to note about The Sunbird is its intentionality – I wrote it with a very specific objective in mind. It wasn’t just that I wanted to write a story; I wanted to write a story that would open people’s hearts and minds to Palestine.
Having grown up with Palestine as an important issue, hearing about Palestine, learning about Palestine, caring about Palestine, I’ve spent my whole adult life coming up against people who don’t get it – or don’t care enough to get it. In the early days of the genocide last year, I knew I had to do whatever I could with whatever I had to speak up for Palestine as loudly as possible. That’s how I got started as a writer.
The Sunbird intricately weaves past and present. How did you approach the challenge of writing dual timelines? Were there moments when one timeframe overshadowed the other in your writing process?
My starting point for this story was the character of Nabila, an elderly Palestinian migrant woman. I quickly settled on the day-in-the-life format because I knew that I didn’t have much time to write and publish, and I felt that I would be able to contain and control the story more effectively if I was moving my character—one character—through just one day in her life.
It wasn’t until I began developing Nabila's character that I began to think about what she might have been like as a young girl before the Nakba robbed her of her home and her future. Writing Nabila’s present definitely dominated initially, and I wove the story of her past into that.
I stopped when I felt I had achieved a good balance between the two timelines. I suppose the balance between present and past is fairly even, with a slight bias towards the contemporary.
The language in The Sunbird is deeply evocative. How do you balance the poetic and the narrative in your writing?
To tell Nabila’s story, it was important that I enter her inner world because she is such a singular character. The reader’s empathy for Nabila is vital if this story is to achieve what I want it to: to help the reader understand—really understand—the story of Palestine, the true story that has been hidden from so many for so long.
In order to empathise, one must be able to imagine, so the language had to be evocative. Poetry and narrative are not antithetical or separate concepts; they are just different aspects of the same thing. I don’t think writing a narrative without any poetics is possible. They are in constant dialogue with one another.
I guess the key is achieving the right balance for the story being told. I hope I have done that in The Sunbird.
You initially self-published The Sunbird. What motivated you to take that route initially, and how did you navigate the challenges of self-publishing?
In the beginning – or at least once I was confident that I would finish the story and that it was good enough to be published – I assumed I would self-publish. I worked for many years in the book publishing industry, so I know how to produce a book.
I’ve also sat through many acquisitions meetings and know how and why publishers make their decisions. It never occurred to me that a publisher would take the book on. I knew they would have issues with the length (too short as a standalone book, especially given nobody knew who I was), the timing (it needed to be published quickly, and publishing schedules are determined well in advance), and the subject (Palestine – always the last taboo).
The mechanical process of self-publishing was easy. The hardest part for me was staying positive and maintaining self-belief.
Being republished through UQP is a significant milestone. How has the experience differed from self-publishing, and what does this transition mean to you as a storyteller, particularly telling this story?
When UQP approached me, I was thrilled, partly because I couldn’t have hoped for a publisher that was more right for The Sunbird and partly because it was so validating.
Being published is a very different experience from self-publishing. Suddenly, you are not alone. Suddenly, there’s this great team of people – publisher, publicists, sales manager, rights manager, etc. – who care about your book and want to see it fulfil its potential.
As a storyteller, the transition means that the book has the potential to reach so many more people. This is significant because my motivation for writing and publishing The Sunbird was to open as many hearts and minds as possible.
What advice would you offer to other writers considering self-publishing their work?
It’s important to be realistic about your goals. There have been some phenomenally successful self-published books over the years, but they are in the minority. The hard truth is that not all books are created equal and that self-published books are not received in the same way as books that are commercially published – by bookshops, by the media and even by readers.
So, I recommend doing lots of research. See what else is out there in the area where you are publishing. Join the Australian Society of Authors and seek professional advice. Talk to booksellers. Find a good editor and a good cover designer. Set a budget, engage a publicist. Allow for a marketing budget that is at least equal to your print costs – and don’t print too many copies!
If you self-publish, you also need to be prepared to do lots of post-publication networking – and be ready to give away more copies than you probably want to! Get on social media and create a story around your book.
Connect with book influencers. Use creamy paper, not stark white, and don’t use a glossy finish on the cover – it’s not 2005!
How do you hope readers will connect with Nabila’s story, and what conversations do you hope the book might inspire?
For decades – for much of the 20th century and all of this century – Palestinians have been dehumanised. Denied their voice, denied their right to live as others live, denied their right to exist.
I hope that people will acknowledge that what they were told, what they’ve always thought, might very well be wrong when reading the story of Nabila. I want people to connect with Nabila—and therefore with all Palestinians—in the same way they connect with others in their lives as fellow human beings.
I want people not to be afraid to talk about Palestine and to have what may be difficult, uncomfortable conversations that challenge the status quo. This narrative has dominated so many spaces for over eight decades.
In writing a narrative centred on loss, resilience, and identity, were there moments that felt especially cathartic or challenging for you as a writer?
I wrote The Sunbird as I was watching the most horrendous scenes – hospitals, schools, places of worship, bakeries, markets, playgrounds, everything, bombed; collective punishment inflicted on an entire population; children begging the world for help – so writing The Sunbird was in many ways healing in as much as I felt that I was doing something.
And it was cathartic in the sense that I got in touch with my cultural heritage in a way that I never had before, which was both exciting and challenging. I grew up with stories of village life in the Levant, but my research for the book allowed me to explore village life more deeply and connect with it on a different level.
It also enabled me to see my family in the lives of those who have been displaced. To clarify, my family were driven to migrate by economic realities, not by military force, but through the process of writing The Sunbird, I was also able to empathise more fully than I ever have with the life of the migrant.
What’s next for you? Are there other stories or themes you feel particularly drawn to explore in future works?
Right now, I’m focused on getting as many people as possible to read The Sunbird. I’d love to see it read in schools and copies in every library in the country.
As far as future stories go, I’d like to write something else someday. But I’m in no hurry. In fact, I hope if I write something else, I’ll be able to take my time with it, enjoy the process and write for writing’s sake.
As far as themes go, I’d like to explore some of those in The Sunbird more fully – migration and loss, for example – but in addition to those, I would like to explore ideas around shame and the intersection of cultures and their impact on contemporary Australian society.
Read our review of The Sunbird here!
Sara Haddad is an editor and writer who has worked in publishing for thirty-five years. A Lebanese Australian, she lives on Gadigal land with her husband and two children. She hopes that one day, all Palestinians will be free to return to their country and live there without fear.
Instagram: @_thesunbird_
Elaine Chennatt is a writer, educator and psychology student currently residing in nipaluna. She has a special interest in bibliotherapy (how we use literature to make sense of our lives) and is endlessly curious about the creative philosophies of others. She lives with her husband and two bossy dachshunds on the not-so-sunny side of the river (IYKYK). Find her online at wordswithelaine.com.
