Sara Nović is the author of “True Biz,” a New York Times bestselling novel about a seismic year at the River Valley School for the Deaf. “True Biz” is also the 2026 selection for Seattle Reads, The Seattle Public Library’s “one book, one city” program that started in 1998 and has since been replicated around the world.
Nović will visit Seattle the weekend of Sept. 25 to discuss “True Biz” at several library programs, with voice and American Sign Language interpretation and CART live captioning at all events.
In an interview conducted over email with Nović ahead of her visit, we chatted about why she’s excited to connect with Seattle readers, the origin story behind “True Biz” and how she worked with Deaf artist Brittany Castle to represent ASL, a 3D language, onto the page.
How did it feel to have “True Biz” be selected as the 28th Seattle Reads selection?
It is such an honor to be visiting a city who loves to read as much as Seattle. When I first finished a draft of “True Biz” and tried to sell it, there was a lot of concern about whether hearing people would read about the Deaf world, or whether it was too niche to really do anything big, so every time I get to speak to a general audience about it, I am giddy that folks are connecting with the characters and world that may be, on the surface at least, different from theirs.
At a glance, “True Biz” seems different from your first novel, “Girl at War,” which is set in Croatia in 1991. Are there common themes?
It’s funny because I remember being on tour for “Girl at War” in the U.K. At the time, I had just started percolating a few early ideas about “True Biz,” and someone asked me what I was working on next. I proudly told them I was writing a “totally different” book because “Girl at War” was about language, and identity, and trying to find one’s place in the world, while this new book would be about language … identity … and … pretty sure I went completely pale onstage realizing that I was actually writing the exact same book! It took me a while to come to peace with the fact that most writers have these big questions they perseverate on again and again. If we could answer them quickly and neatly, they probably wouldn’t make very good books.
What does the term “true biz” mean (to the extent that it can be translated into English) and how does it connect to the book?
“True biz” is an ASL idiom that has a few different potential translations in English, like “real talk,” “seriously?!”, “no kidding.” In the novel, the phrase is part of the plot, as it kind of guides the principal’s educational philosophy. But I also like to think of this book as “real talk” about the Deaf experience — both the challenges and the joys that often get glossed over in other representations of deafness, particularly those created by hearing people.
Which character(s) in “True Biz” do you most identify with?
On a kind of 1:1 correspondence level, I do identify a lot with Charlie (a transfer student to the school who’s new to ASL and Deaf culture), as someone who grew up mainstreamed and had a bit of a punk streak and a bad attitude. But part of the fun of writing “True Biz” and having a big cast of deaf characters was that I got to stick a little bit of myself into each of them, and of course, make a lot of things up!
“True Biz” has captivating illustrations by Brittany Castle woven through the book that explain nuances of ASL and Deaf history and culture. Can you tell us about them?
While I was writing the book, I struggled a lot with how I might represent ASL on the page. A lot of people misunderstand ASL to be just “English on the hands” or a broken version of English, but I wanted to show folks that, actually, in many situations, ASL is more effective and clearer than English, especially for deaf and hard-of-hearing people. Eventually I invented the system of what I call “visual dialogue tags,” where each character speaks from a specific place on the page, as this is similar to how we use spatial grammar in ASL, but still so much of the visual heart of the language was missing.
Once I sold the book, I was able to commission Brittany, and that was such a lovely collaborative experience. You still can’t mash all the beauty and power of a 3D language onto paper, but working with a Deaf artist does make a big difference — Brittany’s really talented, with a wealth of knowledge about ASL, and we had fun nerding out about, say, the facial grammar in the eyebrows of a particular drawing.
You’re holding several Seattle Reads programs Sept. 25-26. What can attendees expect from the talks?
I like to dig into the actual craft of writing, so if given my pick, I will talk a lot about that. But I’m obviously often coming from a place of activism and advocacy for the Deaf community, so that’s always integral to my work. And whatever the audience wants to talk about, really. I’m a pretty open book. Q&As are my favorite parts.
You’ve written a memoir titled “Mother Tongue” since “True Biz” was published, which is also an SPL Peak Pick. Can you tell us a bit about that book?
“Mother Tongue” started out as a series of letters to my two sons, one who is my bio son and a CODA (child of deaf adult), and the other who is adopted and Deaf. The structure and the scope of the book have expanded and changed, but essentially it is a mash-up of memoir and research about deafness, queerness, adoption, a bunch of other little ways that we can be different from our families, and how we build new connections in those gaps.
Register for a Seattle Reads event
Sara will be visiting Seattle this weekend for several Seattle Reads programs. Click on the links below to find out more and register.
- Friday, September 25, 11 a.m. at Ballard Branch, 5614 22nd Ave. N.W., Seattle (event full)
- Friday, September 25, 7 p.m. at Hugo House, Lapis Theater, 1634 11th Ave., Seattle
- Saturday, September 26, 11 a.m. at SouthEast Seattle Senior Center, 4655 S. Holly St., Seattle
- Saturday, September 26, 3 p.m. at the Central Library, 1000 4th Ave., Seattle
This column was originally published in the Seattle Times as part of our monthly column, and is reprinted here with permission.