Named a “Writer to Watch” by CBC Books and Shondaland, Christina Cooke is a fiction writer and essayist whose work has appeared in The Caribbean Writer, PRISM international, Prairie Schooner, Electric Literature, LitHub, and elsewhere. A MacDowell Fellow and Journey Prize winner, she holds a Master of Arts from the University of New Brunswick, a Master of Fine Arts from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, and was named the inaugural Poets & Writers Fellow at Vermont Studio Center. BROUGHTUPSY, her debut novel, has been shortlisted for the 2025 Kobo Emerging Writers Prize; was named a Best Book of 2024 by Elle, Electric Literature, CBC Books, and Debutiful; and listed as recommended reading by over 30 outlets including The Atlantic, Vogue, Harper’s Bazaar, The Toronto Star, and more. Christina was born in Jamaica and is now a Canadian who lives and writes in New York City. @christina.j.cooke
Where were you born and raised? How did it influence your writing and your thinking about the world? I am going to answer this question in its two parts: born, then raised.
I was born on the island of Jamaica. My early upbringing there was foundational to my creative obsessions and narrative imagination. Jamaican characters and language and cultural inflections are ever-present in my work—even if I don’t intend them to, even if they never take center stage. “Jamaican” is the first among the many hyphenations that make up my geopolitical identity. This is intentional. “Jamaican” is the bedrock of all that I am.
I was raised in Jamaica, Texas, Tennessee, New Brunswick, and British Columbia. It’s a long story, one that requires more space than I currently have to tell.
What kind of reader were you as a child? What books made you fall in love with reading as a child? I was insatiable. I’ve told this story before, but it bears repeating: by the time I was 10, I had read all of Miss Lou’s (Louise Bennett’s) poems as well as her versions of the Anancy tales—bastions of Jamaican folklore—in addition to all the Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys, Goosebumps, Babysitter’s Club, and Sweet Valley Kids/High/University books that had been published to date. I’m not including here all the one-offs I also read, such as Secret Garden; if I did, this list would begin to border on obnoxious.
I developed a profound love of reading from my mother, who every year gave me and my sisters stacks and stacks of books to read as a busywork tactic during the long stretch of school-free summer. She quickly realized she didn’t need to concoct a scheme to get me to read; my voracious appetite for story soon propelled me all on its own.
Can you walk us through your routine when you’re deep into a book? I am in awe of writers who maintain a regular routine for their writing. I wish I were so disciplined; maybe one day I’ll develop that kind of self-control. But for now, my writing days are far from typical: some days I get up at 7 am and write until 10ish or noonish, depending on whether I’ve been scheduled into morning calls for my remote job. Some days, I start writing once work ends at 6 and keep going until 2 or 3 or some other outrageous hour of the morning. And some days—I really hope my boss isn’t reading this—but some days, I’ll start sketching out a scene in the middle of the afternoon when I’m supposed to be executing deliverables to move my work projects forward. It’s probably very woo-woo of me, but much of whether or not I write and to what extent stems from where I am in the flow of the story—or, as the kids would call it, by the ~*vibes*~ between me and the scene at hand.
How did Broughtupsy take shape, from first idea to final draft? Broughtupsy, my debut novel, took me 13 years to see from inspiration to publication. First, the project was the thesis for my Master’s; I wrote in the school library and submitted sections for workshop. Then, it was something to tinker with while working a dead-end job; I wrote in the margins of training pamphlets to keep from falling asleep during mandatory meetings. Then, it was the vocation I committed myself to in earnest to contribute something of use and substance to queer and Caribbean literature; I wrote at odd hours, often sleeping through the day and writing at night for reasons I still don’t fully understand. Then, it became the vehicle for my ambitions, a physical testament to my narrative abilities and creative vision of amplifying Jamaican queer women in contemporary storytelling; I edited during the day, sitting in the back corner of coffeeshops, always with a latte in hand, always with the same pen, like I imagined a true, disciplined grown up would do. Then my book finally entered the world.
Now, I find that I am once again a novice. I am retooling how to make story as I figure out the right approach for my next project, bracing for whatever convolutions that new process may bring.
Do you keep a journal or notebook? If so, what’s in it? Does the notes app on my phone count as a journal? That’s where I jot down all my half-baked ideas and fleeting sparks of narrative possibility. Though I once wrote about half an essay in my notes app, on the whole it’s mostly a parking lot for ideas that come to me while on the go—a great big gob of sticky notes all digitally collected and to fit perfectly into the palm of my hand.
How do you research and what do you enjoy about researching historical periods? Historical research and critical inquiry are two key tenets of how I approach writing. I am primarily a writer of realist, literary fiction—a genre that often finds greater resonance and meaning through expansive research. Engaging with historical collections helps me identify all the poignant details that will make the story’s setting and circumstances seem recognizably “real”, whereas critical inquiry helps me in adding nuance to the themes and ideas the story explores. Basically, research is the scaffolding that gives shape to my stories, ensuring forward movement, cohesion, and relevance.
Which writer would you most like to have dinner with? David Foster Wallace. Because he was wicked smart yet incredibly sad, which is honestly my favorite type of person.
When writing Broughtupsy, did you draw on influences outside literature? Not inspiration, per se, but I do listen to music every time I write. I maintain a separate playlist for each of my writing projects, often Shazam-ing songs I hear in the grocery store or in restaurants that match the mood of what I’m trying to write. My playlist for Broughtupsy had 414 tracks, enough music to continuously fill 24 hours and 57 minutes; I wrote a piece for Powell’s about those songs and their significance to my novel. I’ve just started a new playlist for my current, untitled project. This new playlist is already at 64 tracks. I’m only a few months in.
AI and technology are changing the ways we write and receive stories. What are your reflections on AI, technology and the future of storytelling? And why is it important that humans remain at the center of the creative process? It’s taking everything in me to not write, “AI is useless and dumb. End of story.” Or something equally as glib. Because I do think AI is unnecessary and stupid; I want machines to fold my laundry and change my car oil, not give me a melodramatic mishmash from the frankensteining together of work stolen from writers living and dead. The most reliable fonts of human connection, expression, joy, and struggle are humans themselves. If we allow our art to become mass-produced and factory-made like the burgers from McDonald’s, then it seems likely that such actions will flatten our sense of culture and deteriorate our engagement with one another and understanding of ourselves. Sometimes, “faster” and “cheaper” is not the solution. Building good things takes time.
Tell us about some books you've recently enjoyed and your favorite books and writers of all time. I’m currently reading When The Emperor Was Divine by Julie Otsuka, and it’s brilliant. Incredibly rich and compelling storytelling packed into such a slim volume. I’m reading it at a snail’s pace to extend the reading experience as long as possible. I just don’t want it to end.
A few of my favorite books are White Teeth by Zadie Smith and Obasan by Joy Kogawa. Both books came into my life at pivotal moments in my creative evolution. Honestly, I’m not sure I’ll ever re-read them for fear that the magic will dissipate and I’ll fall out of love with these books that buoyed me through some truly turbulent times.
Exploring literature, the arts, and the creative process connects me to… myself, my culture, and the communities I call home.
