Stephen Kelman: 'I feel that I've gatecrashed the Booker Prize shortlist'

It was these experiences of an impoverished multicultural estate that he drew on to write his debut novel about gang life in inner-city London.

Pigeon English, which yesterday reached the shortlist for the Man Booker Prize, tells how 11-year-old Ghanaian immigrant Harri Opuku witnesses the aftermath of the random stabbing of a fellow pupil before embarking on a perilous attempt to solve the murder.

Capturing powerfully the pervasive menace that the fictional "Dell Farm Crew" gang brings to the estate where Harri lives, and using Ghanaian and south London argot for further realistic effect, Pigeon English has already been hailed as a "brilliant" and "deeply moving" depiction of urban life.

The book, which was plucked from a "slush pile" by his agent, led to a bidding war between 12 publishers before being sold for a "high six-figure sum" and is due to be adapted for TV by the BBC.

The shortlisting has given Kelman the feeling that he's "gatecrashed the party" and he is "shocked" to find himself listed alongside such stellar literary figures as Julian Barnes.

"I'm overwhelmed," he says. "I didn't even expect to be longlisted. It shows that if you have a dream, hold on to it, and that if you are prepared to work at something, your background shouldn't hold you back."

It was the murder of Damilola Taylor in 2000 that gave Kelman, a 35-year-old former warehouse packer, the impetus to write his novel. He describes how the horror he experienced following the coverage of Damilola's death nagged at him for years. "I remember my reaction to the Damilola Taylor case," he says. "I was strongly affected. It was something that really ate into me.
"As the years passed the story still played on my mind. I thought: 'I was raised in that kind of environment so maybe I have the right to write something'. Lots of my friends were immigrants. My best friend at 11 was Dominican and I went to school with lots of Pakistanis and Turks. I remember that being a positive. It made me finally sit down and start writing."

Once he did, the words flowed as he drew from his own experiences being brought up on Luton's Marsh Farm Estate, which suffered a spate of riots during the Nineties.

"At the time I was writing, I was living on the estate where I was born and could look out of the window and see some of the action taking place that made its way into the book," he explains.

"Some of the scenes were lifted from what happened just outside my bedroom window. Others came from travelling on the bus and listening to conversations."

Critics are tipping the novel as a potential winner of the Booker's £50,000 first prize. But what gives Kelman most satisfaction is the enthusiastic response of younger readers.

"I'm hearing lots of positive feedback. If we can get kids reading the book who might not ordinarily read, it's exposing them to something that will allow them to look at their life from a different angle. If that gives them an insight into a way out of those problems, then that's fantastic," he says.

This belief in the benefits of reading chimes with the Evening Standard's campaign to improve literacy among the young - an aim that Kelman endorses wholeheartedly.

"When I was growing up one of my saving graces was my love of books," he adds. "That helped me escape from the bleaker aspects of my environment. It gave me the aspiration to get ahead, get an education and make the best of myself."

Inspiring children through reading is, he thinks, a better way of tackling gang crime than the Government's blitz of headline-grabbing initiatives on gangs.

"It's easier for the state to suggest a stick than come through with a carrot," says Kelman, who married his wife Uzma a few weeks ago. "But the core problems are lack of investment, a lack of giving this generation any sense of aspiration. So many of these kids on these estates have a pervasive feeling of 'this is where we are and there isn't any point trying to get out'. Access to education and books can help. Hopefully, when they get a sense of what is achievable, their own motivation will take over."

Far from being a political tract, however, Kelman's book uses Harri to convey a straightforward message about how good can triumph, whatever the odds. "Harri is the key," says Kelman. "I wanted him to be the epitome of good. At heart it is a good-versus-evil tale. He has such a strong moral sense, a sense of right and wrong.

"The message of the book is one of self- determination. For all the bleakness and harshness people on these estates have to rub up against, Harri still retains his own sense of morality. He shows you can lead a good life provided the will is there. We need those good messages and good role models."

Even the novel's gang members have their plus points amid the routine aggression and drug dealing that pervades the novel.

"I was very conscious of not making them black-and-white villains," explains Kelman. "At heart they are just scared kids trying to survive. I don't think anyone is straightaway bad - it's more complicated. If there is a message from the book it's that we have that ability despite the background we've been born into - we still have the ability to assert our own personalities."

If Kelman wins the Booker, he'll be ecstatic - but his greatest hope is something rather different.

"If the legacy of the book is that more kids pick up a book than might do otherwise then I'll be very proud. That will mean more to me than any prize."