The Fat Black Woman's Poems really introduced me to poetry writing. I had tried it out before, but always in a schoolyard, nursery-rhyme kind of way. I tried sonnets and haikus and acrostic poems, but rarely did anything have verve or passion. Then I read this, aged 16, and fell in love with poetry and with Nichols specifically. The voice was so clear, slicing through injustice and prejudice with a witty lash of the tongue, a withering glare or a simple yawn. The strength of the Fat Black Woman is her inertness. She loves herself, so it matters little what anyone else thinks. She is round, and thus full and complete; she does not need the starving ideologies of others.
Nichols' verse zings with a straightforward assertiveness, and yet is redolent with flavour. With a few carefully-placed words, she recalls both cold urban spaces and warm, far-off islands, yet firmly resists sentimentalism and the holidaymaker's trappings of palm trees and seashells. Nichols, then, is real, and her voice convincing, whole, bold. Indeed, I was rather surprised to discover our confident Fat Black Woman is, in actuality, a skinny black woman instead. But like Nichols, it's irrelevant which social strata you come from; we all have a little fat black woman inside us.