An exclusive interview with George Saunders, winner of the 2017 Booker Prize

In our new podcast episode, our hosts are joined by special guest George Saunders to talk about Lincoln in the Bardo, politics, Substack, and finding his voice as a writer

George Saunders: ‘I don’t have much desire to be a novelist’ © WENN Rights Ltd / Alamy

George Saunders is best known as a writer of short stories, for which he has won multiple awards and accolades. In fact, he is considered by many to be the world’s greatest living short story writer. In 2017, however, he took home the Booker Prize for his first (and so far only) novel – the startlingly original Lincoln in the Bardo. The book follows Willie Lincoln, son of Abraham Lincoln, as he succumbs to illness and ends up in the bardo, a limbo-like state between the living and the dead, populated by ghosts who are unaware that they have died. 

This week, George Saunders joins our hosts James Walton and Jo Hamya in the latest episode of The Booker Prize Podcast to tell us about how winning the Booker Prize changed his life, about the differences between short- and long-form fiction, about how he embraced the Substack platform, and what he says to his creative writing students at Syracuse University about becoming a great writer.

Some of our favourite quotes from the interview are listed below. Click on the button to listen to the full conversation.

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What does he remember about winning the Booker Prize?

‘I kind of blacked out. It was really a wonderful thing because it was a surprise, as the rumour mill was like, “an American’s not winning this year, just go and have some drinks”. And then I remember hearing the word “Lincoln”, and then everything froze. But it was really, professionally, the best night in my life. It was so much fun, partly because it was unexpected, and then it was just a feeling of, well, approval, certainly, which I have a weakness for. And I found it to be a licence to be more daring in my work. Somehow having the endorsement of that sort of august prize made me think, “Well, yeah, if it seems like a good idea to me, I should try it.”

Why did it take him so long to get around to writing a novel?

‘I don’t really have much desire to be a novelist, I love the short story. And so it was really just a case that this particular material demanded more pages, and I was fighting it all the way. I kept saying to the book, “Don’t humiliate yourself. If you can be 30 pages, let’s be 30 pages.” And then at certain key moments, the book very politely said, “No, I think I need to have a little more length.” And so it was a process of, I guess, just respecting the material. I think a work of art is at its best when you’re being mutually respectful. So I’m saying to the book, “I want you to have every page you need, but not a page more.” And then I looked up and it was 300 pages, but I felt like it had earned them.’

Why did he want to write about such a well-known figure as Lincoln?

‘The idea just kept eating at me. I had so many good reasons to not do it, and I kept telling the book, “We aren’t going to do that.” And every time I would have another moment of artistic success, that book would say, “How about now? You’re good enough, try it.” So it was just the material being persistent. One of the terrifying things in writing about Lincoln is that it’s like writing a book about Jesus. It’s been done thousands of times. So it was really like threading a needle and, in the end, that’s what was exciting about it. Nobody knows who Lincoln was, no one will ever know. He was a man from a completely different time. His mindset was completely different. So then it becomes, “Well, he’s me, or he’s at least some projection of me.” It was a real challenge and I often think when you’re writing about somebody like this, you don’t want to show him too much. You don’t want to show him in full light. And you want to understand that even a guy like Lincoln is mostly… he’s a middle-aged guy who just lost his kid, so that’s kind of universal. So it became kind of a magic trick of appearing to represent him, which is an illusion, really.’

Why does he love being on Substack?

‘My fear was that suddenly I’m on the internet and I have to fight somebody every day, but it was so much the opposite. So many bright people. It’s really like a huge class. And for some reason, the vibe in there is very positive and very supportive. So I’ve become a little bit addicted to it as a part of my intellectual life, because about once every three weeks we introduce a new story and we analyse it. I’ve learned so much from the comments, and it forces you to back up your opinion by writing about it, which is a really good way to clean off any facile ideas that you have. I think a lot of writers are doing [Substack] because if you’re a person with a lot of ideas and an active mind, it’s sort of hard to publish all those ideas. Even if they’re good, there’s not that many avenues. So here you have a way every week to publish, and there is a way that a piece on Substack can make it into the broader culture and the larger discussion.’ 

What advice would he give to would-be writers?

‘When I teach [creative writing] at Syracuse, I’m trying to tell my students that the first move most of us make when we write is to put up a front. We’re trying to imitate the beloved writers that we’ve known. That doesn’t actually work, because even if you imitate Rushdie really, really well, you’re not Rushdie. You’ll be frustrated because you’ll feel that you’re a light version of that writer. And at some critical moment, you’ll start to squirm because the things you actually know in your life aren’t showing up on the page. So I will say to them, “How are you charming in real life? Is that there [in your writing]? If you’re a funny person, are you being funny? If you’re somebody who is a great listener, is your great listening making it onto the page?” And that’s the moment where a young writer will sometimes make a leap. It was, for me, such a relief because instead of keeping your best gifts outside the door, you let them in and you’re just yourself. The problem is, you can’t simply decide, “Oh, what are my charms? I’ll make a list.” It’s much more intuitive, and it takes a lot of rewriting to get there. But it starts with a feeling of frustration, that what you really know or really care about is not showing up in your work.’

George Saunders’ latest short story collection, Liberation Day, is out now in paperback.

Follow George on Substack here.