More shortlist news!

We Could Be Something has been shortlisted for the Prime Minister’s Literary Awards! This is my second time, the first being The First Third‘s shortlisting ten years ago (and the connective tissue between both novels makes this especially meaningful).

Big congratulations to my fellow nominees. The judges described Karen Comer’s Grace Notes as an “assured debut verse novel captures the fear, anxiety and boredom of Melbourne’s Covid lockdowns with pinpoint accuracy”, Gary Lonesborough’s We Didn’t Think it Through as “an honest reflection on vulnerable masculinity in all its frailty, fear, and doubt”, Lili Wilkinson’s A Hunger of Thorns as “a unique specimen of the genre filled with bursts of unrestrained creativity and vividly descriptive writing” and Melissa Kang and Yumi Stynes’ Welcome to Sex! as “a fearless, frank and important resource for young people”. Read their full notes.

The judges’ comments about We Could Be Something:

17-year-olds Harvey and Sotiris both live in Sydney’s Darlinghurst and are trying to find their paths in life under difficult circumstances. Subtly and skilfully, Kostakis shows the reader differences and resemblances between the inner and outer worlds of the two young men.

Kostakis has achieved a new level of excellence with this novel, capturing both characters with crisp, clear prose, layered with meaning and pathos. Brimming with raw emotion and truth, We Could Be Something contains vivid descriptions of the Darlinghurst and Kings Cross area of Sydney, and of Greek-Australian culture, intergenerational living, and Australia’s LGBTQI evolving communities.

Kostakis writes with authenticity and insight about a teen novelist having his ego and creative spirit crushed when his first novel falters. The novel’s bittersweet conclusion avoids cliche and leaves the reader with something far more complex, realistic and lingering than a tidy ending. Kostakis balances the reader’s desire for satisfaction with this story’s demand for authenticity with enviable skill.

This is a powerful novel with universal appeal, imbued with heart and wit, told with control and maturity.

This caps off an incredible year of shortlists, with We Could Be Something also making the lists in Victoria, New South Wales and Queensland. A big thank you to everybody who has championed and supported the novel. It was my way of working through the worst news of my life (IYKYK) and the fact that it’s struck such a resounding chord is humbling.

If you can’t get enough of shortlists, Readings has just announced the YA shortlist for their annual prize. It highlights the exciting works of new and emerging talent, and always pushes some interesting reads to the top of my TBR.

Shortlist news!

Some lovely news to wake up to this morning — We Could Be Something is a finalist in the Queensland Literary Awards. It joins Borderland by Graham Akhurst, Smoke & Mirrors by Barry Jonsberg, The Spider and Her Demons by  sydney khoo and I Hope This Doesn’t Find You by Ann Liang on the Young Adult Book shortlist.

The judges’ comments:

An engaging and unexpected tale of isolation, the meaning of family, and finding your way back to yourself. The dual voices and array of complex themes in We Could be Something are skilfully handled throughout. An exploration of wider family dynamics within a fracturing moment, it is beautifully balanced, touching and a little heartbreaking.

This is the third state prize the book as been shortlisted for, after the Victorian and New South Wales’ Premiers’ prizes. Beyond chuffed.

One year later

It’s We Could Be Something‘s first birthday.

I keep writing and rewriting the commemoratory post, and that’s seriously way too much effort to put into a blog in 2024. So here’s a photo of Mum and Yiayia, along with my thanks to all who’ve read it, reviewed it, recommended it. Means a lot.

We Could Be Something is out!

My book tour is over! Love that for me.

Just a quick thank you to everybody who has embraced the new novel so warmly. It means the world. There is so much of me in We Could Be Something. Mum. Yiayia. I wanted to tell a big, messy story about a small (still messy) Greek family, and to see how much it’s resonated … The stuff dreams are made of.

(Says the guy who just wrote a book about the harm of chasing dreams.)


A family affair

I’m seventeen. I barrel down the staircase and burst into the kitchen, short of breath. Mum has friends over (I don’t remember who, sorry). She asks what’s wrong.

“Nothing, I… got an email.” I’ve read it four times. Still doesn’t feel real. “Someone wants to publish me.”

“Are you sure you haven’t read it wrong?”

She thinks it’s a hoax. She insists she meet the publisher. She tells my soon-to-be editor that she has another son who can write them a book too, if they’d like … I recoil. I’m inches from my dream, and Mum’s mumming all over the place.

The book deal happens.

My author journey is all propulsion. Past rejections. Past that first book nobody likes. Past how publishers treat you when nobody likes your first book. Past the editorial concerns about gay characters that you carry as a knot in your stomach until you come out. Past the brouhaha that happens after you come out. Past the next book. And the next. And the next.

We Could Be Something starts as a memoir. It’s a handbrake, a chance to consider all the experiences that have made me. And then I do the thing I’m not supposed to. I start a new Word document. I take pieces from the memoir and rearrange them, remix them, and make something fictional from them.

It’s a lot of things, a story about the changing shape of the queer experience, the changing shape of being Greek-Australian; a story about falling in and out of love, and ultimately, a story about family.

It’s a story written by a guy who’s accompanied by his mother to a publishing meeting at seventeen, whose thunder is stolen by his grandmother at Sydney Writer’s Festival at twenty-three, and who, at thirty-three, knows he only got past the rejections, the first book nobody liked, and the rest of the nonsense, because his family pushed him.

We Could Be Something by Will Kostakis

Harvey’s dads are splitting up. It’s been on the cards for a while, but it’s still sudden. Woken-by-his-father-to-catch-a-red-eye sudden. For the foreseeable future, he’s living on top of a cafe with the extended Greek family he barely knows.

Sotiris is on the up. He’s achieved his dream, a novel released at seventeen. It isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, and then a cute, wise-cracking bookseller named Jem upends his life.

Harvey’s and Sotiris’s stories converge on the same street in Darlinghurst, in this beautifully heartfelt novel about how our dreams shape us, and what they cost us.

An emotional rollercoaster of a novel about two young men — part coming-out story, part falling-in-love story, part falling-apart story.

“The enormous heart of We Could Be Something beats with a rare, thrilling authenticity. Every funny, smart, tough word of it rings true. I loved this book.” Patrick Ness, bestselling author of A Monster Calls and the Chaos Walking series

“Vivid and exquisitely written… Kostakis weaves a sparkling tale of hardship, heartbreak, identity and the universal struggle of finding your footing in the world.” Brenton Cullen, BOOKS+PUBLISHING

“There is no doubt that Will Kostakis is one of Australia’s leading writers for young adults — and this is, I think, his best work to date.” Paul Macdonald, THE CHILDREN’S BOOKSHOP

“The storytelling has the degree of complexity and maturity you’d expect in an adult literary novel… We Could Be Something is a truly special novel, exploring Greek culture, queerness, the writing industry, but most importantly family and the love that binds it.” Joe Murray, READINGS