Felicia Pride has something for the honeys
Photo of Felicia Pride by BreAnna Jones
By Bridget Arnwine
When writer and producer Felicia Pride moved from Baltimore, Maryland, to Los Angeles to pursue her dream of becoming a filmmaker and screenwriter, she was 35 years old. By some standards, 35 is the age when a woman reflects on what she’s accomplished and begins planning for what’s next. But for Pride, it was the age she realized that the greatest accomplishment any human being can experience is living in their gift, even if it means stepping out on faith to do so. More than ten years later, that journey of self-acceptance has clearly paid off. Pride has not only achieved her goals, but she has also built an impressive and deeply meaningful resume in the process.
She’s written for acclaimed television shows including Grey’s Anatomy and Queen Sugar, and most recently, the pilot for a Netflix spinoff of the 1980s classic A Different World. She also founded the production company Honey Chile, wrote and produced feature films such as Really Love (also on Netflix) starring young heartthrob Kofi Siriboe, and contributed to numerous other projects that highlight and celebrate Black life and love.
Her latest project, a novella, is one that’s all her own. With no supporting cast of writers, producers, or directors to share credit with, Pride stands tall with her new literary work, which she conceptualized and completed while in the writers’ room for Bel-Air. Centered in her hometown of Baltimore, Come Close is a story about second chances, enduring friendships, self-discovery, self-acceptance, and finding home.
When we spoke, Pride was thoughtful and grounded; her responses were certain and assured. Speaking to her was exactly what I imagined it would sound like to speak with someone who has realized a dream. Her words carried the same honesty, conviction, and sureness of heart that define her work and reflect her target audience – those of us over the age of 40, whom she affectionately calls “honeys.” We centered our conversation on Come Close, the importance of relationships amongst Black women, and what it means to leave the safety of home in pursuit of one’s dreams.
Bridget Arnwine: You’ve accomplished a lot as a writer, filmmaker, and producer. How did you decide that this was what you wanted to do professionally? How did you get your start? People often say Hollywood isn’t an easy place to exist. What helps you stay the course?
Felicia Pride: I started as a writer back in the day. In 2001, I began as a journalist writing about music and books, and then I started writing books myself. Writing books became really tough, so I made probably one of the biggest mistakes of my life: I stopped writing for about seven years. During that time, I earned my marketing degree from Towson University and worked in marketing, creating social justice media projects. It was gratifying work, but I wanted to get back to my creative self.
I was really enthralled by film and television and thought, I’d love to do that. I had no idea how that would happen, but I taught myself how to write a screenplay while still living in Baltimore. I remember talking to my mentor at the time, and she said, “Why don’t you move to the biggest market?” I was at a crossroads: either get a good government job or try this thing again. At 35, I moved to LA to try my hand at screenwriting, and the rest is kind of history.
In terms of staying the course, it’s tough. Hollywood is like no place I’ve ever seen. There’s rampant toxicity, all the -isms, and power struggles. It’s really difficult, so I’ve set up my therapeutic tools. I have a therapist, a village of friends and family I can lean on, and a North Star: my mission to tell stories that center fully realized Black people, especially Black women, especially those over 40. That helps me remember this mission is bigger than Hollywood. That helps me, but it’s still a struggle. I won’t deny that, but those are the things that help me keep going.
BA: First, kudos on the A Different World spinoff pilot. With all that you’re accomplishing in TV and film, what made you decide to write a novella in the midst of all that?
FP: Nuttiness! (laughter) It was a nutty time, and I also put a deadline on myself. This is Honey Chile’s first book, so we set up pre-orders—it had to get done. There were a few reasons. One, framing it nicely, the work I do is very collaborative. To put it not so nicely, producers and executives sometimes weigh in so much that it interferes with your vision or artistic voice. I wanted to create something where there was no interference from collaborators that I hadn’t chosen. Writing novellas is probably one of the most solo creative acts.
We’ve done films through Honey Chile, where we chose our collaborators, keeping the collaborative spirit but without Hollywood’s business interference. The novella was just me and the page, and that was it. It was scary. I had to remember how to write a book. After writing for the screen for so long, I’d forgotten that in books I can go into characters’ heads and describe more than what’s visible. I had to relearn that process. It was humbling.
Also, I love romance. I’ve established myself in that space through projects like Really Love, which we shot primarily in Baltimore, and through shows like Queen Sugar, Bel-Air, and Grey’s Anatomy. They all touch on romance. But I’d never done it in book form. Come Close is my first foray into romance in literature, and I want to do more. It’s a way to get my feet wet and introduce Honey Chile to the publishing world.
BA: Did you always know it was going to be a novella?
FP: Yes! I did not have it in me to write a novel. I wanted to try something manageable. That’s kind of what I did when I started directing. My first short film, Tender, had two people, one location, and one day. So my first foray into romance in book form was a novella. I didn’t want to do too much.
BA: Let’s talk about Come Close. I know you’re from Baltimore. I live in Baltimore County. Why did you decide to make Baltimore such a central part of this story?
FP: Baltimore is home. I went to Milford Mill (high school), grew up mainly in Randallstown, went to Towson, and later moved to the city as an adult. I feel like we haven’t seen the breadth of representation of Baltimore. That’s why we shot Honey Chile’s short film Look Back at It in East Baltimore. I want to show different sides of where my family’s from.
Strategically, I also want to adapt Come Close into a feature film and shoot it in Baltimore. But mainly, I chose what I know. I know Baltimore. We haven’t really seen a love story set there for Black people, and there’s something fresh about that.
BA: Could this story have been the same if it had taken place only in LA?
FP: It wouldn’t have. The novella doesn’t go as deep as I want the feature to go in terms of family connections and relationships, but this story is really about a woman who leaves home to do a thing and then comes back with the thing she left for. That dynamic wouldn’t be the same in LA.
BA: That makes sense. Why do you think it’s important to tell stories that include those of us over 40? The great poet André 3000 (of the legendary hip-hop group Outkast) once said that musical storytelling is a young person’s game. Watching TV and movies, it seems much of Hollywood feels the same. Is that part of what draws you to telling stories like Come Close?
FP: It’s interesting, when I think about a lot of artists at the top of their game, many of them are over 40. I like to say honeys range from Beyoncé to Kamala [Harris]. You have Beyoncé at her peak, and getting better every year. Even The Clipse, they’re 50! Their sound is fresh, and they’ve got the confidence that comes with age.
For Black women in particular, when I’d watch TV in Hollywood, I’d enjoy the shows but think, These aren’t the conversations I’m having with my friends. We’re having different conversations, and I want to see those reflected. Honeys are a unique group with immense influence and social capital, and wisdom. From a marketing standpoint, this audience has the means, influence, and willingness to show up.
So for me, it was about wanting to see our stories represented and tapping into the power of this audience. At Honey Chile, we tell stories by, for, and about Black women 40 and over. “By” means anything a honey creates. I liken it to the OG honeys like Mara Brock Akil and her show Forever. There’s a honey lens on this reimaging of a young adult book by Judy Blume. That’s very specific. “For” can be wide-ranging. It can be anything from Love Island to sports. “About” honeys is more explicit, like Come Close, which centers a honey in the narrative.
BA: The press release mentions that Come Close is about having a second chance at love, but after reading it, I was struck by the relationship between Amaya and Chloe. Why did Amaya need a Chloe in this story?
FP: I don’t know too many Black women who can navigate romantic relationships without their homegirls. I think about my mom and my aunties. All of them got through it (dealing with male relationships) because they had each other. Black female friendship is a cornerstone of my storytelling. It’s essential because it’s real life. It wouldn’t ring true to me without it.
BA: I also love that you included their professional relationship. You often hear that Black women can’t work together, but here, they’ve partnered. They’re the reason this whole thing is happening in the first place, because of the relationship they’ve established.
FP: Absolutely. That’s Honey Chile. We’re all Black women, and we’re going on five years now.
BA: That’s fantastic. Congratulations on that. I don’t think I can say it enough!
I read somewhere that you were inspired by hip-hop. All the classic Black love stories like Mahogany, Love Jones, and Brown Sugar are known for their soundtracks as much as their stories. What kind of music do you hear as the soundtrack for Come Close?
FP: I’m creating a whole Spotify playlist!
BA: (Laughter) I’m a music writer, so as I was reading, I kept imagining what songs might fit certain moments.
FP: I started out writing about music, too, and even wrote a book about hip-hop. There are a lot of music references in Come Close: “So Anxious” by Ginuwine; a Beyoncé song where she sings “please stay, please stay, please stay…” that’s the name of a chapter; music from Love Jones and Boomerang, because both are mentioned; Baltimore club music like “Shake That Ass, Girl,” which plays at Melba’s in the book; “Take a Ride in My Tahoe;” songs by SiR; Alex Isley; SYD, because they’re on Kyrie’s playlist when he invites Amaya over; songs from Do the Right Thing and Waiting to Exhale, too. I’m putting together a whole playlist with those sounds.
BA: (Laughter) That’s awesome! Last question: what’s next? What are you working on?
FP: We’re expanding Look Back at It into a feature and plan to shoot it in Baltimore. We also want to adapt Come Close for the screen, and I’ll be writing that adaptation. Those are two very different films. Look Back at It is an intergenerational story about a mother, daughter, and grandmother, and Come Close will be more of a rom-com, still with heart and still sexy.
BA: Thank you so much for your time.
FP: Thank you!
To Felicia Pride’s first love, thank you. It was her memories of you that inspired the creation of a book about first loves and the journey of following one’s purpose. Come Close offers readers a glimpse into what’s possible when you trust your voice and allow your gift to lead the way. Though it’s a story about romance, it also reflects Pride’s deep love for storytelling and her gift for it. It reminds us that while collaboration can make the work stronger, sometimes the most powerful creations come from doing it alone.
