Irenosen Okojie

Irenosen Issghohi Okojie MBE FRSL is a Nigerian-born novelist and short-story writer working in London, England. Her stories incorporate speculative elements and also make use of her West African heritage. Her first novel, Butterfly Fish won a Betty Trask Award in 2016, and her story "Grace Jones" won the 2020 Caine Prize for African Writing.Okojie was elected as a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature (RSL) in 2018, and in 2020 was appointed a vice-chair of the RSL. Quotes I am the father whose feet you danced on, I am a million broken stars at your fingertips, I am the night sky's discarded brother, I am a blanket made of rain. I am the conscience searching for your footsteps; I am the Harmattan wind whispering secrets that will fall into the foamy hem of the sea and wash up on the beaches of other countries as rough pebbles and hollow seashells. I am beating. Men are usually fucking or want to fuck women they dismiss as crazy] I think all writers have a special role to play. Part of the problem is a passing-the-buck mentality that seems to be entrenched within our publishing infrastructures and people’s mindsets. This inability to take personal responsibility or be accountable in some way. “I can’t write about such-and such person from X background because I don’t know any, I’m worried it won’t be coming from an authentic place.” I think Jonathan Franzen made comments to that effect. I had to scratch my head at that. Honestly, it’s such a cop out. Well, get to know people from diverse backgrounds, take yourself out of your comfort zone and your bubble of privilege, it’ll make you socially smarter and more empathetic. In an interview Short stories allow you to produce these small worlds. There’s something very liberating about it even though technically, they’re actually very difficult to get right. Putting a collection together you have to show range, breadth and depth. The stories have to change in tone and variety. With the novel, because it’s a much longer work, you can find yourself at sea in parts. This can be frustrating and can hamper your progress. The short stories in contrast are like bursts of light. You’re energized off of the momentum, from being able to realise an idea, then move onto the next one. Something about having an ending in sight reasonably quickly (depending on how fast you write!) makes you feel capable. Once you write a story, it gives you some confidence that you can actually finish a piece of work. What short stories do is provide a framework that means you write quickly; they create a sense of urgency. It’s a space to play, experiment, refine. in an interview That period I call winter, when life seemed unbearable and I found myself crying silently on peripheries slightly beyond the city, I thought about being unwittingly complicit in the disappearance of a woman I used to know. Who looked just like me. What I had left were her excavated bones, which I was forcing myself to survey in order to kick-start my own resurrection. Over the pandemic, I’ve wondered when I’ll get to write in Africa again. I feel this niggling need urgently. Based in the UK, I envy those who make art there whilst absorbing Africa’s beauty, vibrancy, and buoyant spirit. I try to keep myself connected to African art and activism by keeping up with developments in these areas as a form of feeding my artistic hunger, but also as a way of telling Africa that I haven’t forgotten her. In this emotionally charged time of pandemic uncertainty, long buried desires about the continent I left as an eight-year-old child come to the fore; seeking familial legacies, wanting to travel through various countries like Ghana, Madagascar, or Namibia, to know their rich histories. I find myself hankering to return. Passing the buck within publishing infrastructures because you lack 'authenticity' is a cop-out. Writers have a responsibility to broaden their horizons and write beyond their immediate experiences. Addressing the challenges of diversity and inclusivity in the publishing industry. Quotes about Irenosen Okojie Okojie has a fabular, surreal style that delves into the painful, the unsayable, and the surreal tales of love and loneliness. Bernardine Evaristo's review of the short story collection Speak Gigantular. Nudibranch is an extraordinary set of surreal tales that explore time travel, monks, and molluscs, showcasing an extraordinary, weird, and wild imagination. Review of the short story collection Nudibranch in The Guardian. Curandera is a weird, haunting novel written in a wonderfully inventive prose style that verges on the hallucinogenic while remaining bracingly grounded in the physical. Review of the novel Curandera in The Guardian's science fiction and fantasy roundup. External Category:Living people Category:Novelists from Nigeria Category:Novelists from England