This week’s installment of Ten Questions features Lawrence Burney, whose debut essay collection, No Sense in Wishing, is out today from Atria Books. In No Sense in Wishing, Burney weaves together a personal and analytical look at his home city of Baltimore, music from throughout the Black diaspora, and the traditions that raised him. The essays follow Burney traveling to the bubbling creative scenes of Lagos and Johannesburg, reflecting on parent-child relationships and inherited taste, and considering how the Black people in his home state of Maryland have historically improvised paths for their liberation. Kiese Laymon said, “No Sense in Wishing is among the most profound and dazzling debuts I’ve ever read…. The work here is provocative, yet firmly rooted in the exciting fringes of traditions yet to be named.” Lawrence Burney is a writer, critic, and the founder of True Laurels, an independent magazine covering Baltimore’s music and culture scene. His work has appeared in publications such as New York magazine, GQ, and Pitchfork.
Lawrence Burney, author of No Sense in Wishing. (Credit: Shan Wallace)
1. How long did it take you to write No Sense in Wishing?
I started to conceptualize the general foundation of No Sense in Wishing in late 2022. The first essay I wrote was “A Love Letter to Steamed Crabs Piled Onto a Bed of Newspaper” and once I completed a couple drafts of that, I felt I had a solid idea of the route I wanted to take. My first draft of a manuscript was turned in during the early summer of 2024. So, in all, it took about twenty months to get a draft out.
2. What was the most challenging thing about writing the book?
For me, it was the pressure of making sure I was writing to my fullest potential, which isn’t always easy to assess. The idealized version of an essay or story that lives in my head doesn’t always make it to the page and that’s because I’m limited by my skill set. When I say I’m limited, it isn’t necessarily a lack of confidence in my ability to write. It’s more about always striving to translate my thoughts in a way that I’m proud of. That’s the constant push and pull of writing. Beyond that, I’d say a constant voice in my head was one telling me to be super cognizant of evenly balancing my personal journey, sound criticism, and calling attention to lesser-known art/music in my essays.
3. Where, when, and how often do you write?
If we’re talking about writing in the traditional I’m in front of my computer at a desk way then I’m doing that at least every other day. But over the past few years, I’ve found it really enriching to write to myself while on my daily travels. I’m a big fan of taking multiple walks per day. The people, sounds, and visuals I absorb during that time will often lend themselves to something I’m already working on. I’ll write short paragraphs to extend on later in my Notes or Google Docs app. Sometimes I record voice notes to myself and use those ramblings as launching pads for new work. But when I really sit down and roll my sleeves up, I’m typically at my home desk and the ideal time for me is that moment of the night when everyone else is asleep or doing their own things as they get ready for bed. I really enjoy the quiet of late nights. It’s just me and the work.
4. What are you reading right now?
The book I can’t put down right now is Black in Place: The Spatial Aesthetics of Race in a Post-Chocolate City (University of North Carolina Press, 2019) by Brandi Thompson Summers. It’s an analysis of gentrification in Washington, D.C. but, more specifically, it’s about gentrification of the H Street Corridor in the city’s northeast quadrant. Summers argues, in cities with significant Black populations, Black culture is often used as a marketing tool to establish businesses and housing for newcomers, while simultaneously omitting actual Black people or the radical elements of our culture to ensure they don’t scare off the incoming class. The book is really, really good. And thorough. I love when something I’ve thought about and discussed among friends finds its way to me in the form of a book or a film.
5. Which author, in your opinion, deserves wider recognition?
He gets plenty of love already for his contributions to music writing, specifically jazz, but I’d like to give a shoutout to my good friend and fellow Marylander, Marcus J. Moore.
6. What is the biggest impediment to your writing life?
Resources. The past few years have been really tough in the digital media and magazine worlds, which is where I’ve made my living over the last decade. There are fewer people with staff jobs, fewer opportunities for freelance work, and less pay going around for the work that is available. Those aren’t ideal writing conditions but, even as I’ve faced all of that in recent memory, I think writing has been the only constant to look forward to. So, in a way, limitations can strengthen your relationship to craft. I’ve placed a newfound trust in my work and a commitment to bettering myself in a way that benefits the work.
7. What is one thing that your agent or editor told you during the process of publishing this book that stuck with you?
Honestly, just the fact that my agent, Will LoTurco, reached out to me at all was absolutely crucial. When I first heard from him in 2021, he asked if I had any ideas similar to the writing I’ve been doing for magazines that could potentially be turned into a book. Just the possibility of having a book activated me, completely. I’d always thought about writing one in passing, but having someone say they’d like to help you bring one to life is a really great jolt of energy. That’s all I needed.
8. If you could go back in time and talk to the earlier you, before you started No Sense in Wishing, what would you say?
I’d tell myself to stay the course. I’ve weathered many storms on the journey to get here, but many of those challenges directly informed what went into No Sense in Wishing. If anything, I’d advise a younger version of myself to remain ambitious, fight through the moments of uncertainty, and stay dedicated to the craft.
9. Outside of writing, what other forms of work were essential to the creation of No Sense in Wishing?
Since 2022, I’ve been working on a documentary film called Revisiting Ramona, which is inspired by a book from 2004 by t.p. Luce called Tha Bloc: Words, Photographs, and Baltimore City in Black, White, and Gray (Obie Joe Media). The book documented a street I grew up on in Northeast Baltimore from the ages of nine to fourteen. Conceptualizing this film and working on it has given me the tools to approach storytelling more vividly. Writing lends itself to filmmaking in terms of structuring a story, but I think filmmaking lends itself to more visually stimulating writing. It’s my hope that while reading No Sense in Wishing people get visual inspiration as well.
10. What’s the best piece of writing advice you’ve ever heard?
I can’t pinpoint one piece of advice but just through conversations with writers I admire and interviews I’ve watched of writers I admire, it’s clear to me that there’s no way to cheat the work. It’s very apparent, after some time, who nurtures their craft. My biggest fear is feeling like I haven’t committed myself—even worse if readers could sense it. So I work to avoid those feelings.
