Congratulations on being shortlisted for the Discoveries Prize 2025 for your novel-in-progress, Seven Sweet Nothings. Tell us about your writing journey since completing your Escalator New Writing Fellowship.

Shortly after I did Escalator, I was fortunate enough to receive a scholarship to do the Creative Writing MA at UEA. I credit Escalator and UEA with convincing me to take fiction seriously. Previously it seemed like a pipe dream.

I then followed the very American path of apprenticing myself to short stories. The UK doesn’t have the short story infrastructure the US has: instead of a network of hotly competitive literary journals run out of MFA programmes, we largely have prizes. So I did a tour of the shortlists of those short story prizes (The White Review, Galley Beggar Press), building confidence.

I submitted stories stateside as well, got a couple of prestigious publications and had a story named an honourable mention in Houghton Mifflin Harcourt’s annual Best American Short Stories. I was beat out by George Saunders in that—definitely the right decision on their part.

During the Escalator scheme I was writing the fumbling beginnings of my abandoned first novel. That manuscript ended up being disastrously long but taught me so much about how not to write a novel, which I’ve applied to Seven Sweet Nothings, a much tighter project.

Looking back on your time as an Escalator Fellow, what were the key takeaways from the experience?

In retrospect, I was perilously young, at 24, and I didn’t know if I could be a writer or how one went about that, especially in this country where I’d crash-landed with a visa two years before. I didn’t know how you got a novel from back of the napkin idea to Foyles and what other opportunities were out there. Escalator gave me that knowledge.

Back then, I didn’t have a defined literary voice or much idea what I wanted to write; that would come later. But the Escalator programme gave me the confidence to write to figure those things out—and some idea about where to send that work once I had.

You were mentored by Amy Sackville during the programme. How did that mentoring relationship influence your craft, or shape your perspective on life as a writer?

Amy was extremely patient and encouraging, especially because I was such a babe in the woods. I’d written short stories and taken some creative writing classes at university but was very unformed. It was edifying and exciting to have her engage with my work. She also provided this model for what a writing life could look like, with craft and teaching co-existing.

You have ties to the East of England, having studied at the University of East Anglia, and you’re now based in London. How important is it to shine a spotlight on writing talent from outside the capital? What can regional publishers and organisations offer that London-based ones might not?

I’ve lived in London for over a decade, but I grew up in Rust Belt Ohio so I’ll forever feel like an outsider here and have an affinity with the regions. I chafe against the idea that those places are cultural wastelands. In fact, so much of London is a corporatist moonscape with privatised public spaces, identikit cafes, and eye-watering housing costs. Sometimes outside of it, lower cost of living makes creativity more viable.

Local creative infrastructure opens up opportunities to people who might otherwise feel daunted and not apply, submit, or turn up. My first major US publication was in The Cincinnati Review, which is based at the University of Cincinnati and has an outsized reputation for publishing great literature. For me, it felt approachable because it was in my hometown backyard.

Norwich is wonderful because it is this hotbed of creativity almost because of that achingly slow train to London. It doesn’t feel a satellite in orbit to London, but rather its own self-sufficient literary world.

Escalator focuses on supporting underrepresented voices in the UK. From your perspective, how has the landscape changed in recent years — and what still needs to be done?

I’ve noticed a conscious effort among publishers and prize committees to amplify marginalised voices, to make bookshelves and shortlists reflect today’s Britain. I hope publishing continues to be courageous, especially in an increasingly totalitarian political environment, where opposition to war and genocide is being tarred as prejudice and terrorism.

One positive development has been the normalisation of virtual alternatives in creative spaces—one benefit of the pandemic. Zoom is much maligned, but it’s made opportunities accessible to so many more people, including those with disabilities and caring responsibilities and postcodes outside London. I have a small child and a dysfunctional hip, so as much as I love an irl literary event, a virtual alternative is often a better fit for my life.

Unfortunately, there’s still a fetishisation of youth and literary wunderkinder. That doesn’t align with the way people, particularly women, lead their lives, especially amidst these seemingly permanent housing and cost of living crises. Joanna Walsh did some great campaigning about age restrictions in arts opportunities through @noentry_arts.

My own writing career has taken several detours, due to a financially ruinous early divorce, a serious hip condition that became symptomatic when I was 30, and recently motherhood and childcare. Back when I did Escalator a decade ago, I would have been horrified to hear that I’d be 35 without a published novel. But those detours made me a better writer—or at least one who’s not in so much of a rush to prove myself.

As a writer who has been shortlisted for several major prizes, what’s your view on the role of literary awards today? How can they best support and uplift the writers they recognise?

Literary prizes, especially for unpublished writers, can offer exposure, a boost in confidence, and connection to a wider literary community. I feel really grateful to The White Review, Lucy Cavendish College, Galley Beggar Press, and Curtis Brown and the Women’s Prize for seeing potential in my work. Literary awards are especially vital as a platform for short fiction in the UK.

My recent experience with the Discoveries Prize has been fantastic. Curtis Brown and the Women’s Prize are really committed to developing the talent they find, with courses and mentoring.