When was the last time you read a novel that was as realistic about the climate crisis as it was inspiring?
This sort of fiction is precious, especially in a world already characterised by seemingly endless chaos and disaster, and filled with doomsday-esque rhetoric and projections for the future. I have even fallen prey to these tropes in my own writing, which I know can be a disservice to what we need in times of change. Given this, as readers, we might believe that examples of measured climate fiction are few and far between and that the literary landscape only celebrates dystopia.
Advertisement
But all hope is not lost. As an antidote to this, a brand new literary award has been created. The Climate Fiction prize, which I will be helping to judge, aims to shine a light on the bold, exciting, nuanced, timely climate storytelling we know is out there.
The prize, which will be in the UK, will place an emphasis on the quality and originality of narrative and writing. Its organisers hope to usher in a new era of climate fiction without the need for tokenism 鈥� where 鈥渆co鈥� is a throwaway mention. As a judge, I am interested in coming across fresh ways of exploring what the climate crisis means for us all 鈥� which doesn鈥檛 mean the stories have to bang on about the science, or scare or guilt-trip us.
But why climate fiction and what purpose does it serve? As a society living through a period of deep transformation, we need literary work that is a reflection of these times, from the sheer terror of what we are already witnessing and what this means for us to the change already under way in real life 鈥� on the streets, in the courts and with organisations creating the sustainable food, energy and housing of the future. Climate fiction is an opportunity to reveal the people coming together to effect change through action, whose stories aren鈥檛 yet told. Like the fungal networks that connect plants underground, they are often invisible, but, crucially, they create systems of support.
Climate fiction can also galvanise us by tapping into our emotions rather than simply providing pure, rational facts, and it can help us to visualise and explore a future we want and deserve. In essence, climate storytelling can both instigate and reflect a radical shift in the way we think and act on climate change, reaching new audiences outside the environmental echo chamber who can take action in novel and exciting ways. I am thinking here of books like Barbara Kingsolver鈥檚 Flight Behaviour, with its unexpected hero in the rural US, or The High House by Jessie Greengrass, where protagonists face an uncertain climate future and try to protect their families.
But how do we encourage more people to read climate fiction and more writers to rise to the occasion? , a company of climate and TV and film experts aiming to change the narrative on the climate crisis, is funding the first year of the new prize and is also working with a growing number of novelists to adapt their books for the screen. It recently backed the television thriller , a UK police drama set in a Yorkshire village grappling with the consequences of climate impact. It also funded and executive produced the short satire , which stars Phoebe Dynevor and Bella Ramsey and explores this moment when our culture isn鈥檛 just reflecting the anxiety and impacts we feel, but is also wanting to pivot to showing a route out of the crisis.
We are all living in a time of great change, and today鈥檚 literary works need to reflect that, from hope to despair and everything in between. With this new prize, we have the potential to celebrate diverse climate storytelling, gather momentum and remodel society for the better.
Tori Tsui is author of It鈥檚 Not Just You. The Climate Fiction prize will launch at the on 2 June
