Noah Fabri | I am drawn to realism as a genre and form

Could you tell us about your trajectory as a writer?

I’ve always written but it must have been around seven or eight years ago when I started to concentrate on the novel/long-form fiction as my preferred medium. I was drawn to realism as a genre and form, and writing became the way I could document and capture moments that I felt were small but important - smells, street life, conversations, feelings - in understanding our relationship to institutions and structures, as we constantly negotiate our way around them, much like the form of the novel itself.

What was the process of crafting It-Toghma Morra tac-Cicri like?

More than any other work I've written, it took a long time to come together in its published form. It began as the story of Eli and Eiro told from Leo's perspective, and the first draft I wrote was significantly longer and more meandering, where the description of Ħamrun sometimes took over in my first attempt to understand what made the characters' relationship so Ħamrun/Marsa-specific. It took the characters a long time to feel real during the writing. I was reflecting myself and my friends at the time of writing and perhaps there wasn't enough distance for the characters to grow of their own accord (with the exception of Faye, who emerged with very little effort).

I didn't touch the draft for a few months, then turned back to it and turned it upside down, rearranging chapters, strengthening the characters' relationships, and really concentrating on structure and emotion. Once I began working with Leanne Ellul as editor, it finally began coming together. Together we rethought the structure and narrative voice, tightened up the text, and Leanne guided me into adding two important moments that I was too uncertain about including in the first draft, but were needed to tie the characters' intimacies together. So, it was a particular journey of walks, friendship, collaboration, and negotiating with, through and around structure, both narrative and political.

The novel gives life to a very specific microcosm in a very specific time… What do you think makes the story universal nonetheless?

I think we can learn a lot about Ħamrun and Marsa and the lives that flourished there at the time the novel's set. They show us different ways of living, creating, doing and being together and tune us in to power relations and how they manifest in urban space as a result of various histories. So, the particular friendships that grow throughout the novel are tied to the place they grow from and around, and it's this specificity that I hope holds the key to what can be universalised and what can't, because what can't can sometimes be more interesting. A friend once said that as artists the most we can hope to do is to try and describe, honestly, the feelings going on around us - and there's a lot of power and political potential involved in the act of describing.

How did it feel to win the National Book Prize?

It's a good feeling, but I'm trying not to think about it.

What are some of your favourite authors working today?

Caleb Azumah Nelson builds worlds that feel deeply real and rich in texture, feeling, conversation and embodied history; Yara Rodrigues Fowler's work engages with sisterhood and activism in playful and immersive ways (she also engages in important organising in her communities); Marta Barone’s Città sommersa is a beautiful weaving of family archive and political history; Glorianne Micallef's short stories always hit hard with their incredibly fine-tuned tone.

What’s next for you?

More writing, in all its shapes and forms.

In collaboration with the National Book Council, MaltaToday will be interviewing the winners of the 2025 National Book Prize and Terramaxka Prize for children and young adults. More information regarding the awards can be found at ktieb.org.mt/