Early last fall, after spending a couple years abroad, I returned to the DMV in preparation for the release of my first novel, They Dream in Gold. I flew home to Maryland a few days after submitting the book’s third round of edits. My travels had enriched my life (and my novel) in demonstrable ways, and I’d hardly felt any homesickness while overseas. So it was strange to feel relief at Columbia’s Lake Kittamaqundi — some sense that I’d arrived where I most belonged. Mere months before, I’d struggled there to draft the book that was now complete.

Some days later, in my hometown of Baltimore, I returned to other places where the book’s structure had finally aligned with my vision: the wooden benches at Penn Station, where listening to Jay-Z and Kanye West’s “Otis” on loop made me certain that my protagonist needed a sidekick in her search for her lost lover; the halls of the permanent exhibitions at the Baltimore Museum of Art, where unnecessary characters finally started to drift away; and certain corners of Enoch Pratt Free Library’s main branch and the nooks of local bookstores, where my early plays were written.

I’d return to these same bookstores a few months later, sitting with tea and my thoughts as I awaited press coverage and reviews. One of my greatest joys in the publication process would be seeing my book in these places.

An equal source of fulfillment were the notes from area readers who’d seen the book jacket and were excited by the novel’s connection to the DMV. This connection hasn’t always been easy for me to communicate. For all my book’s international flare — it spans Switzerland, France, Senegal, Brazil, and beyond — it’s hard to see the significance of the DMV in its pages. But it grew out of a short story, “The Swiss Mother Eve,” published by the African American Review at Johns Hopkins University Press. They Dream in Gold’s first page mostly retains the language of that story, and the novel emerged from the outline it charted.

I developed my writing practice on the MARC train, writing during my commute from Baltimore to DC every morning. When covid caused my employer to fully transition to remote work, I rose at the same time as always, but now those commuting hours were devoted completely to writing — a habit that gave me the rigor I’d need to revise my future debut to my satisfaction.

My years in the DMV are deeply interwoven into my writing practice, as is the community of institutions, friends, and family that has made my literary life possible. The presence of familiar faces in the crowd at my local book events illustrates this global novel’s indelible connection to the place I call home.

[Editor’s note: This piece is in support of the Inner Loop’s “Author’s Corner,” a monthly campaign that spotlights a DC-area writer and their recently published work from a small to medium-sized publisher. The Inner Loop connects talented local authors to lit lovers in the community through live readings, author interviews, featured book sales at Potter’s House, and through Eat.Drink.Read., a collaboration with restaurant partners Pie Shop, Shaw’s Tavern, and Reveler’s Hour to promote the author through special events and menu and takeout inserts.]

Mai Sennaar is a graduate of NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts. The Smithsonian Affiliate Museum of the African Diaspora, the Berkeley Art Museum and Pacific Film Archive, and the Classical Theatre of Harlem are among the venues that have presented her plays. Her short film “Wax Lovers’ Playlist” premiered at AFI Silver Theatre and Cultural Center and was an Official Selection of the Martha’s Vineyard African American Film Festival. She is the book writer for “Carry On!” a new musical by Broadway composer Diana Wharton-Sennaar, and creative director of the performing-arts company MWPLive. They Dream in Gold is her first novel. She lives between Baltimore and Dakar.