‘I BECAME AN OVERNIGHT SUCCESS AT 60’

Booker Prize-winning author Bernardine Evaristo tells books editor Joanne Finney about the sweetness of success after more than 30 years of writing, and reveals her secret weapon

We talk to award-winning author Bernardine Evaristo

When Bernardine Evaristo won the Booker Prize in 2019, it was one of the most talked about wins in years. Not only was she the first Black woman to be awarded the prize, but the fact that the judges broke the rules by declaring a tie (the £50,000 prize money was split with Margaret Atwood) was controversial. More remarkable in some ways was that Bernardine had been writing for more than 30 years, and Girl, Woman, Other was her eighth book.

After a brief career as an actor, Bernardine began writing fiction in her 20s. Her first two books were released by small publishers and didn’t get much attention. Later novels did well, but Girl, Woman, Other was her first novel to top the bestseller lists. It was named by Barack Obama as one of his favourite books of 2019, and is now being adapted for TV.

Bernardine was born in London to a Nigerian father and white English mother, and was one of eight children. Now 61, she’s married to writer David

Shannon. Alongside her literary career, she is professor of creative writing at Brunel University London, vice-president of the Royal Society of Literature, and recently curated a landmark new series of lost or hard-to-find books by Black writers, which are now being republished, called Black Britain: Writing Back.

From the age of 14, I wanted to be an actor, so I went to youth theatre and trained.

That was my first career. Through acting, I started to write for theatre, then I left acting behind in my mid-20s and continued to write. I found it so much more satisfying. Writing is emotionally intense but I love being absolutely taken over by the story and the characters. It’s like I’m discovering my emotions through my writing.

Writing is intense, but I love being absolutely taken over by the story

Even though there were 10 of us in our household, my childhood was very quiet.

We lived in a big old Victorian house. It could have been very grand, except my dad didn’t do anything to it, so it was a bit of a wreck.

We were the only Black family in the street.

We stuck out in many ways. My dad was very strict, so that was quite oppressive. He was Nigerian and he brought his culture with him. I hated it then but I understand now. He came from a very different background, he had eight children and he had to be a bit like a sergeant major!

I went to a girls’ grammar school, which was very white, but I was fine there.

People weren’t racist to me but the area [Feltham in south London] was a pretty racist area. I remember one girl in my class was doing a sociology O-level and she did a survey asking everyone if they’d live next door to a Black family; 75% said they wouldn’t. I remember it to this day. Although there was a veneer of pleasantness, deep down most of them wouldn’t want to live next door to me.

Winning the Booker has changed my life beyond recognition.

I’m the same person and daily life hasn’t changed much – same house, same husband – but my career has been totally revolutionised. After a 30-odd year career, I’ve become known as a writer. It’s wonderful. I’ve told my husband I can never complain about anything ever again!

There’s definitely something to be said for getting these big rewards at a late stage in your life.

It absolutely means more because it happened to me at 60 rather than when I started out. If you’re young, maybe it goes to your head or you might feel like an imposter. Maybe the pressure would be too much and you’d stop writing. My success came at exactly the right time: I’m in a grounded stage of my life, and I appreciate all the

things coming to me.

My win has made a difference: it’s a book by a Black British woman about Black British women.

A lot of people were really happy that I got the prize – it instils hope in people that it’s possible, and that it’s feasible at any stage of your life. The publishing industry is now having to reconsider what makes a successful book and publishers are looking for more books by Black British writers.

When you have a long career but you’re not breaking through, it can be disappointing.

If you spend five years on a book and only sell a few thousand copies, you think, is it worth it? I’ve dealt with disappointment throughout my career but I’ve never allowed it to run riot. Those negative feelings ultimately hold you back; it means your energy is going into feeling sorry for yourself rather than something productive. When I’m writing a novel, I’m working on it all the time – it’s in my mind – but I juggle lots of things. of creative writing, I sit on panels, I judge prizes, I tour. I’ve accepted that it works for me; if it didn’t, I’d clear the decks. These varied things give me energy.

My latest project means so much to me.

I’m curating a series called Black Britain: Writing Back, bringing back books by Black British writers that have gone out of print and deserve a second airing. To me, it’s the ultimate activist act. Four of the six writers were first published in the 1990s, at the same time as I was. Those authors didn’t necessarily continue writing; that could have been the case with me.

My secret is to write affirmations.

You note down your goal as if you’ve already achieved it, and it needs to be personal, positive and in the present tense. So it might be ‘my new novel is amazing’. This is before I’ve even started it. Why not put a really positive spin on things?

If I had to give my younger self advice it would be: just go through it.

You will have difficult times, but you’ll be stronger as a result. I wouldn’t change anything.

When I was younger, I fell in love quickly, and out of love just as fast.

As you get older, you realise it wasn’t love, it was just a crush. The most satisfying feeling is a lifelong partnership like

I have with my husband. It’s a lovely daily life in which we share everything, have companionship and mutual respect.

The Black Britain: Writing Back series (Penguin), including The Dancing Face and The

Fat Lady Sings (right), curated by Bernardine

Evaristo, is out 4 February