Dotti Irving writes: Glittering Prizes

The seasons may be all over the place because of climate change but one month, November, remains a constant in the literary calendar.

November marks the announcement of the winner of two of the U.K.’s leading literary awards: the Booker, for fiction, and the Baillie Gifford, for non -fiction. So it’s a key month for writers, agents, publishers, booksellers, and the media too.

There can’t be many writers – fiction or non-fiction - who don’t dream of winning one of those big prizes. Winning either can change a writer’s life. Just think – fame and fortune in one fell swoop! Samantha Harvey’s 2024 Booker winner, Orbital, for example, instantly rocketed to the top of the bestseller charts on the back of her win, with her publisher announcing an eye-watering reprint of 250,000 copies. Her initial £50,000 Booker purse will, over time, be dwarfed by money from other sources: a huge uplift in sales of Orbital along with her backlist; multiple editions of the winning book in translation around the world; a whole new conversation about the price publishers are asked to pay for her next and subsequent books. And that’s without even mentioning the inevitable film or television spin-off which will bring a whole new readership to the book.

Prizes are by definition a good thing. There is an extraordinary range of them; fiction, non-fiction, poetry, children’s, science, comedy, crime, women writers, first time writers, writers over 50… it’s a very impressive list and happily someone has to win every one.

Whatever the nature of the prize, they tend to follow the same process. A panel of expert readers considers and discusses the submissions and winnows them down to offer the reading public, at best a longlist, then a shortlist and finally a winner. So, prizes perform a useful service in putting a spotlight on the best, amongst what can be a bewildering choice for the book-buying public, with so many books published every year.

The media loves prizes. Controversy, say by setting writers up against each other, generates great copy, as do the events and parties in the build- up to the awards ceremony; and then the opportunities for the ‘rags to riches’ stories that can emerge about the winning writer’s life, such as with Anna Burns (who won the Booker with Milkman in 2018) or Douglas Stuart (the 2020 winner with Shuggie Bain). The controversy is not confined to fiction: the media interest in Richard Flanagan, the winner of the 2024 Baillie Gifford Prize, focused on his declaration that he would accept the prize but not the £50,000 prize money until he had had the opportunity to talk to the sponsor about reducing its investments in fossil fuels. There was a passing mention, though, to the fact that he had made literary history by scooping both the Man Booker in 2014 and the Baillie Gifford ten years later.

The book trade loves prizes. Understandably. A winning book is an easy sell; it comes with a stamp of authority, so it must be good. And the media coverage will have driven sales no end. It’s heartening to see how many people still see the Booker and Baillie Gifford shortlists as their Autumn reading menu, or as the perfect Christmas gift.

Winning a literary prize can be a game-changer but it also has its challenges. At Colman Getty, my former PR company, we handled loads of prizes - including the Booker and the Baillie Gifford - so I saw the prize picture from both sides.

Somewhere in that whole picture is the author. From the moment a writer is announced as the winner of a major prize, they lose control - of their diary and their freedom - at least in the short term. If you were to win the Booker Prize, for example, I can guarantee that you can kiss away the next year of your life. Not in an unpleasant way, you understand, but you will be required to take part in literary festivals around the world, visit countries where your book is being published in translation – and keep talking about that one book! No time to think, to let those creative ideas begin to grow.

At one Booker dinner I sat next to the previous year’s winner, his agent and his publisher. He confirmed that, yes indeed, his life had been turned upside down. He wasn’t complaining about it, of course, and neither were his agent and publisher, but he had been totally unprepared for what lay ahead when his name was called out as the winner.

When the Booker mantle passed on to the next year’s winner, he was able to get back home, switch on his computer and make a start on his next book. Assuming he was not too crushed by his own success to find himself facing a blank page. It has happened to others in the past.

I can imagine you reading this and thinking ‘nice problem to have.’ It is indeed and I hope that it’s a problem you have one day - but you have been warned!