When discussing my latest novel Your Show, published in April by Faber and longlisted for the Gordon Burn Prize this year, I am always keen to stress that it is more than just a book for followers of the so-called ‘beautiful game’. The novel charts the journey of Uriah ‘Uri’ Rennie, from his humble beginnings in Jamaica in the early 1970s, following him to Sheffield as a teenager, to depicting him becoming the first Black official to referee in the Premier League. At its core, the novel is about a Black man, who against the odds attempts to break through the glass ceilings to be the best in his field without really getting the credit for it.

In writing this labour of love, it was important that the story was structured in such a way that it felt ceaselessly gripping and emotive, but even more importantly, that the prose style at sentence-level was poetic and propulsive emulating the dynamism of a thrilling edge-of-your-seat football match to make the readers’ eyes fizz down the page. It was crucial to formulate well-crafted sentences that were alliterative, rhythmical and melodic urging the reader to not only read along to them, but sing or even rap along to them too.

 I combined writing about my own experiences as a former semi-professional football referee, with years of reading and research to depict in a creative fashion what it means to be a Black sportsman in the national spotlight. And although these are all my words I used to portray a version of Uri’s pioneering story, it was very much a team effort to get the job done. Kept close to me as I typed – in my rucksack or on my desk – within easy range so I could dip in and out and see how it’s done, I kept a small pile of books that I admire, books doing something refreshingly bold, books I loved. As a novelist, it’s important to have your own style of course, to take ownership over your own authorial voice and the story you want to tell, but seeing how some of the contemporary greats do it is never a bad thing. In the case of writing Your Show, here are five brilliant works that incessantly inspired me right up until the final whistle:

Your Fault by Andrew Cowan: This inventive, stylised novel, told entirely in the second person (like Your Show), quietly captures the magical mystery of childhood memory with a delicate subtlety. Tender and skilful storytelling: comic, heart-breaking and achingly nostalgic.

The Damned Utd by David Peace: This captivating novelisation of enigmatic football manager Brian Clough’s short-lived tenure as Leeds United manager is a masterpiece. So much more than a football novel, this is an addictively human story based on the life and career of the greatest manager the England team never had.

Lanny by Max Porter: Highly inventive and majestically musical, Porter captures the symphonies of childhood pluckiness in a poetic work that challenges the hybridity of the novel form in a book that sings to you throughout. Powerfully sparse prose that feels memorably wholesome.

little scratch by Rebecca Watson: This fearlessly experimental and thought-provoking novel pushes the boundaries of contemporary storytelling; witty and written with great depth, this has all the facets of a modern classic.

 Physical by Andrew McMillan: A boldly emotive debut poetry collection that is rich and fluid and does away with grammatical conventions (like capital letters and full stops) giving the pieces the necessary space it needs to help the words breathe on the page.

  • Ashley Hickson-Lovence