Art, sex, love, faith, identity—a lot is going on in Brandon Taylor’s latest novel, Minor Black Figures (Riverhead, October 14). But like the great painters he admires—see below—his work acquires its depth in the small, detailed brushstrokes. It’s the story of a young Black artist in New York who basks in a flash of social media attention but is mostly struggling when he encounters a young ex-priest. Their affair animates the plot, but readers will stay for the author’s pointed observations; our starred review praised the novel’s “seductive intellectual energy.” Should it come as a surprise, then, that Taylor wrote a large chunk of it in Paris? The novel appears on our list of the Best Fiction Books of 2025, and Taylor told us more about it by email.

What was the original idea/character/scene that started you working on the book?

I wanted to write a book that would give me an excuse to describe things, because I’d worked on two very severe books that didn’t call for much description between The Late Americans and what became Minor Black Figures. I wanted to write description, specifically of art and movies, so it seemed like a painter would be the most expedient. Also, I wanted to write about how ugly I find a lot of contemporary painting, and a painter character was useful in that regard. I also wanted to write a priest. So with those two dubious desires, I set out to write a novel.

Minor Black Figures is full of wonderful detail about artmaking. Were there artworks and/or artists who inspired you in writing the book?

I had recently been to London on a brief trip while I was in Paris, and I’d seen John Singer Sargent’s paintings there. A lot of that feeling of standing before Sargent’s paintings went into the book. But I also came across these huge Turner seascapes, and I was so flattened by their intensity and immensity and scale, that I wanted to do something similar with my novel.

Aside from the artwork mentioned above, what kept you going while writing the book? What were you reading, listening to, watching?

I wrote the first hundred pages of the novel while I was staying in Paris, and I took two breaks—one in the afternoon, one in the evening—and I’d take a long walk around Les Halles or into the Marais. After I finished for the day, I watched a lot of movies and French crime procedurals. I love French and British procedurals. And I read Zola. I also listened to a lot of nocturnes. Chopin, Field, and some late Bach piano works. And I made my way through a lot of Bergman I hadn’t seen before. Which I imagine also made its way into the book.

What was most challenging about writing this book? And most rewarding?

The most challenging aspect of writing this novel was setting the proper scale—a scale that would let me speak with the voice of the world but also remain personal to the characters. That balance took a long time, but it was also the most rewarding aspect of writing the book. That and the paperwork movie montage I snuck in there.

What book or books published in 2025 were among your favorites?

Erin Somers has a new novel out called The Ten Year Affair that is so incredibly funny and astute, and very profound. I loved it. Also, shoutout to Jordan Castro’s Muscle Man, a very mischievous novel. And Lincoln Michel’s Metallic Realms, a wonderful novel for anyone who loves lore dives.

Tom Beer is the editor-in-chief.