Good For Nothing

Product Information

Penguin Random House Children’s is delighted to be publishing Good for Nothing, from UKYA debut author Mariam Ansar, which is set to publish in Spring 2023. World Rights were acquired from Claire Wilson at RCW Literary Agency by Penguin Editor Sara Jafari.

Ansar added: “This book is a love letter to every forgotten northern town, every young person of colour that has struggled to feel understood not simply in the depths of their misery – but also in the depths of their private joy. This one is for those whose smiles are sometimes read as troublesome, whose laughter is falsely labelled disruptive, whose silences are often misinterpreted. I hope it soothes. I hope it provokes anger. I hope it causes laughter upon laughter – and a secret tiny sob.” After all, the tradition of Muslim characters is nothing if not interesting: Shakespeare’s Othello is -in some interpretations - ambiguously racialised as deriving from Muslim Spain. Shelley’s Frankenstein features orientalised depictions of the Ottoman Empire in the passive, submissive Safie. Penguin has landed Good For Nothing , a “tender, witty and heartfelt” young adult debut novel from Mariam Ansar.I want people to recognise the humanity of people and qualities that can seem abrasive, or angry, but are actually just misunderstood” Bradfordian Mariam Ansar found it difficult to relate to fellow Muslims in Cambridge (MEE/Mohamad Elaasar) I kept notebooks dedicated to shaping my characterisation of Eman, Amir and Kemi. I created a brother for Amir: Zayd Ali. The Hector to his Paris, the one who would always save him, even if it meant his own death. The synopsis reads: “Eman is the awkward girl whose favourite evenings are spent at home watching soaps with her Nani. Amir is the angry boy who won’t talk about the brother he lost but won’t let his name be forgotten either. Kemi is fast and fierce and beautiful, and knows she deserves as good a shot as anyone else, if only she can get to the starting line.

This is a true flavour of the diverse Yorkshire I love and I hope it makes its way onto the school curriculum. Family restaurants boom with shoddily planned weddings and an extensive mithai collections. The barbers are perpetually busy, the Asian supermarket is manned by the wise and the vicious. Young people are dealt their silent struggles and go about their business under the watchful eye of their parents and the police. So it was during a free hour in my college room, when I felt particularly isolated from the ivory tower I believed I’d chanced myself into, that a character called Eman, and another called Amir, and another who would later be named Kemi, strolled into my head.I am unsure if the silent majority recognises what stories they live every day. Certainly the young child that I was on my grandma’s street, arm in arm with a neighbour with the same name, face, and stance as my own, wouldn’t. Told from the points of view of three diverse teen characters, I became more invested in each character's journey in a world that is complex and where often they have no voice. Glimpses into their lifestyles, their thoughts and fears, their relationships and their desire to live their best life, evoked many different emotions. If you’ve never translated seriously, you don’t really understand what language is’: Pulitzer prize winner Jhumpa Lahiri With teaching, it’s a dynamic job and you’re seeing young people come in and live their lives, and getting to know themselves. There is something very earnest and sweet about it, even in the difficult moments. I think it’s inevitable that I’m going to take from some of their experiences.

The quiet wistfulness of girls who have always done their homework, the frenzied charm of troublemakers skipping out on detention, those that walk in the golden glow of talent, and those that simply don’t. I also think that it is the job of the writer to notice what goes unnoticed - and, to borrow a phrase from Toni Morrison: “to make the local global”. Though the narrative changed after these initial thoughts, Zayd’s death did end up becoming the catalyst for the entire novel. I can understand that. I’m from Bradford: a town in West Yorkshire best known for its large South Asian population, the birthplace of the singer Zayn Malik, many well-respected restaurants, and a certain brand of deprivation-induced delinquency. The exercise I was involved in - a weekly seminar named Practical Criticism - revolved around analysing a text without considering its contexts: who wrote it, when did they write it, what socioeconomic factors could they have been responding to? There are a few genres which always come up when you’re searching for a Muslim-centric narrative. Certain tropes that are somehow palatable to the publishing industry:

I see it as a love letter to the northern community, focusing on the lives of people that are often left out of dominant narratives. In the UK, we have such a southern-based focus on development and progress. There are young voices who are quite angry about the fact that they’re not really included. Writing this book felt like a reclaiming of not just forgotten areas but also forgotten emotions, and using those emotions to shed a light on important issues. I want all the children who make trouble in class to laugh.” She says if the novel feels authentic “it’s because I was thinking would the kids in my class like this? Would they find it funny? And if they wouldn’t laugh then I just wouldn’t write it.” Ansar hopes her pupils will connect with the book’s setting, too : “if they couldn’t say ‘I’ve been to that supermarket’, or walked in that park … it just wouldn’t work in the same way.” “My students are from deprived communities”, she says. “I want these characters to feel real, I think especially because they’re under-represented voices.” Good for Nothing is a tender, witty and heartfelt coming of age story that follows three teens grappling with grief and police prejudice in the North of England. This rich and warmly written novel redefines small town mentalities and explores the power of friendship and human connection. It is the perfect next read for fans of And the Stars Were Burning Brightly and The Hate U Give. a love letter to every forgotten northern town, every young person of colour that has struggled to feel understood”