Before this year I’d not heard of the concept of novella in flash so this was the first one I’d read. I know Stephanie via Twitter where she often links to her other excellent flash fiction pieces and shares her time and comments generously on other people’s writing.
For the uninitiated, a novella in flash is a short novel told in short chapters, each a stand alone flash fiction story but when put together build layers of a longer narrative. I’m attempting to write one at the moment and it’s pretty challenging. If you’re interested in how this works, I recommend reading Three Sisters of Stone.
Agnes, Bella and Chloe are the three sisters of the story, and the novella draws on folklore and fairytale, including the three little pigs. A father’s cruelty and how it echoes down the years is the broad theme, but it’s fascinating to watch how so much information and rich characterisation is conveyed in so few words.
Three Sisters is published by small press Ellipsis, and is a richly deserving piece of writing. You can read it in one go, or take tiny bites and allow the interest to build slowly. Like all good books, it warrants re-reading also.
As promised, I wanted to write about a childhood in books with a few featured. I have also decided to commit to blogging and reviewing every day in December and tagging authors to give them a boost about how much we appreciate them. (You can find out more about this here on Twitter – do think about joining in!) So here’s day 1.
I was reading Lucy Mangan’s Bookworm and thinking about the books I loved, the ones I return to, the ones I leave safely in the past but whose footprint is still with me, the ones I want to pass on. The passing on is especially important – I read a blog a while ago about a mother who had saved up a trip to Prince Edward Island with her daughter so they could share the wonder of Anne of Green Gables together and her daughter just didn’t like Anne. My heart! How awful – I dread this happening with E.
So as you can imagine, Anne of Green Gables is one of my absolute favourites. Yes, she talks too much, hugs trees too much and could be seen by some as utterly irritating but none of that ever bothered me. She was aching for love that girl, and had so much to give. My copies of the books are all TV tie in editions of the Kevin Sullivan production (the ONLY version worth watching) with Megan Follows as Anne, Colleen Dewhurst as Marilla and the lovely Jonathan Crombie as Gilbert. Gilbert Blythe was my first literary crush and remains to this day, one of the only decent men in the whole of literature. He spurs Anne onto greater academic achievement, allows her to voice her opinions and in every way respects her. You can count men who do that in books or onscreen on ONE hand. Anne of Green Gables also has one of the most heartbreaking scenes ever written in it – the death of Matthew Cuthbert – something that can make me cry at any time. Half my copies were presents from my Grandma, who bought them for me on a rare trip into Croydon together and whose kindness completed my collection, so I also think of her when I read them.
Going back a bit, my earliest book favourites were Rapunzel and Beaky the Greedy Duck. My mother hates both of them because she had to read them so often, and I think both were Ladybird editions. I’m not a massive fan of Ladybird books despite these, simply because when I was ill in bed as a child, a neighbour gave me the Ladybird version of The Little Mermaid and I was so upset by the awful ending I never read any more – Ladybird or Hans Christian Andersen. Give me the Disney version any day.
Of course I had an Enid Blyton phase, not the Faraway Tree, but straight into the Secret Seven, Famous Five, and the school books of Malory Towers and St Clares. The famous Five were favourites because of George and Timmy, who were something to aspire to – George being possibly the first tomboy character I was drawn to. A few years ago staying at a friend’s house overnight I came across a Secret Seven book that belonged to his son and started reading it out of curiosity. God it was awful.
One set of books I loved and now E loves too is The Worst Witch. It’s not clear which of us is more excited by the new books in the series that Jill Murphy has started to bring out again – we have the new one ready for Christmas. Mildred Hubble is a great heroine. I was drawn to her because her hair was messy and her bootlaces were undone and she made mistakes but she had a good heart. I still love her while E is more drawn to Mildred’s steadfast friend Maud. E is too messy and disorganised herself to be anyone other than Mildred but I like that she values Maud. (Other characters I value because their bootlaces were undone also include Katy Carr from the ethically dodgy What Katy Did, which I acknowledge has dreadful morals but still has a place in my heart because of the bootlaces.)
What else? My mum worked in an infants school for a while and when I came to meet her from junior school one evening one of the teachers gave me a book from
their library that was too old for their children. I still own it. It’s called A Fox in Winter by John Branfield and tells the story of a teenage girl who befriends an old Cornish farmer and listens to him while he tells her of the old mining days. It’s quietly compelling and explores isolation and generational differences and connections or disconnections between people. I also love and still own my copy of Jean Webster’s Daddy Long Legs, a sweet and little celebrated epistolary novel of an orphan and her guardian.
I also remember something I was gripped by and reread called Vipers and Co which was a kind of crime book I think. I can’t find any information about it now but I remember loving it. I also got a Robert Cormier book out which was called The Bumblebee Flies Anyway which I read more than once simply because it was disturbing – about a boy called Barney who lives in a medical facility for experimentation.
I will tell you of two more. Obviously Judy Blume must figure. My favourite was Are You There God? It’s Me Margaret, but obviously I had the Forever rite of passage. As with so many, the library copy was so battered every time someone returned the librarians tried to mend it only to have to hand it over immediately to another teenage girl who wanted to read it. I also made the mistake of asking my mum what some of the phrases during the sex scene meant (well, if you’ve not come across it before, saying somebody ‘came’ is very confusing) and she shrieked “What ARE you reading?” Oops.
Finally, of course, my spiritual sister Jo March has reminded me that I must mention Little Women. We read this a few years ago at my reading group and one of the group said she couldn’t finish it because they were all so pious. I was heartbroken. Of course they are. But Little Women is part of me and, like practically every bookish woman, I am Jo March, although she is clearly a better person than me because if Amy burnt my book I would have left her to drown in the pond. Pious indeed. In the US I made a trip out to Concord to go round the Alcott house, visit their graves and generally worship – it’s fascinating, I do recommend it.
I would love to hear your childhood favourites! Drop a comment below – and don’t forget to keep reviewing books, visiting libraries and buying books from flesh and blood bookshops.
Today I’m hosting the blog tour for JM Monaco’s how We Remember, a debut novel of dark family secrets and their after effects.
Jo O’Brien, Irish-American professor of Art History living and working in London, returns home after her mother’s death and, in the process of clearing out her mother’s diary and papers, is reminded of an incident from her teenage years which stirs up all kinds of memories. Family secrets come to the fore, as the three family remaining family members deal with a history of addiction, mental ill health, and bitter confrontations.
Jo is a well written character and the book is shaped around her. She’s not always likeable and she makes a lot of mistakes, but all this makes her recognisable and realistic. What a mess her family life is. But this is not a plot-based book, instead it’s a snapshot of what happens when the stories we tell ourselves in order to make it through the day all start to unravel.
Some passages are hard to read. Jo’s account of the incident in her mother’s diary, a sexual assault by her uncle, made me bite my lip but even worse were the recriminations from her own family members that Jo, a teenage girl, had been ‘asking for it’. And the family dependence on alcohol, the accounts of depression that devastated their family life but was never really treated are heartbreaking.
Despite this, I wouldn’t want you thinking it’s a dreary or sad read. It’s frank, realistic and has passages of tenderness and love that show you that we’re all just trying as hard as we can, sometimes against the odds.
It’s a sure-footed debut and worthy of critical and popular acclaim.
Today I’m really pleased to be joined by Fiona Mitchell, whose novel The Maid’s Room, has just come out in paperback. The story of two sisters, Dolly and Tala, Filipino maids to the privileged community in Singapore, The Maid’s Room is a sometimes shocking, sometimes funny account of the hidden lives of others and how much we need to connect with each other. While Dolly and Tala are struggling looking after others and making enough money to send home to their own children, Jules, a newcomer to Singapore, has her own difficulties among the expat community.
Fiona, thanks so much for answering my questions. I really enjoyed the book and thought the issues it covers are so pertinent today. There is the danger that exploitation like this is hidden in plain sight; that if you don’t think about the reality of the lives of others around you, then it doesn’t exist.
Let’s start off by asking about how you came to write The Maid’s Room?
I moved to Singapore in 2009 where lots of people employ live-in domestic helpers. When an estate agent showed us around a flat, she pointed to a 12ft by 5ft bomb shelter and said, “your maid will sleep in here.” When I mentioned the lack of windows, she said, “they don’t need things like that.” This attitude abounded. I met people who confiscated their maids’ passports and issued curfews. And it wasn’t as if domestic helpers were protected by the law; back then, they didn’t even have a legal right to one day off per week. When I spoke to domestic helpers, their reality was even more upsetting – every woman had a story to tell, and only being given rice to eat was the most common one. I was a freelance journalist, and at first I thought I’d write a feature, but the issue felt much bigger than a few thousand words, and I started to wonder whether writing a novel could be the way to go.
The two maid characters, Dolly and Tala, are beautifully written and each is flawed and as open to exploiting their situations as they are being exploited. I liked that Dolly, as the submissive and calm sister in the face of abuse, is as able to pick up some benefits for what she has to put up with in her own quiet way, as much as the outspoken Tala. How did you work out the characters of the sisters when you were writing the book?
Tala’s character came easily to me and she was my favourite character to write. She was based on a domestic helper I got to know with a massive personality, although the woman I knew wasn’t nearly as bolshy as Tala. Dolly was much more difficult to write; it took me lots of drafts to capture her voice. In early drafts the sisters were just close friends, but somehow that didn’t work. When I decided to make them sisters, Dolly’s character fell into place.
A lot of the conflict comes from the two blogs – Vanda with her ‘rules’ for maids, and Tala’s Maidhacker. Has the internet made this kind of thing easier to uncover or is it a handy plot device (or a bit of both)?
The idea for the Vanda blog came from a blog that was running when I was living in Singapore. This anonymous blogger actually wrote a series of rules on how to treat domestic helpers – it was clear she saw domestic helpers as somehow inferior to her, and it appalled me. I wrote to her to complain, but of course she didn’t put my comment up, so Tala taking matters into her own hands and writing her own blog was me wanting to shift the power away from people like Vanda.
It must have been difficult to ensure that the rich white characters, especially Amber, didn’t come across as cliched and two dimensional in their awful behaviour towards the maids. How aware were you as you wrote, that on some level readers would need to sympathise with some of the women so it wasn’t just a maids vs employers story?
I was very much reflecting what was around me, and although I experienced people treating domestic helpers badly, I only made friends with people who respected the women. From that point of view, there was always going to be a Jules in my book. I knew that for the book to be compelling, I’d need to have sympathetic characters, albeit hugely flawed ones. But to be honest, I didn’t consciously think about making the expat characters sympathetic, the balance just arrived naturally.
There is a secondary plot through the book about motherhood, about losing children, keeping children and risks to motherhood – for all four of the main female characters. I especially related to this line: ‘…no amount of watching other people’s grief had taken hers away, and hers was nothing compared to such things.’ This idea that unless we’re really suffering somehow our pain is invalid, and yet all these women have experienced loss in different ways and each is as valid as the others. Was writing the book cathartic for you, working through your own grief?
I was really down when I found out I would never have a second child, and I felt incredibly guilty about my unhappiness. It was overwhelming at times and it was this emotion that kickstarted me to write a book. Every time I sat in front of my computer and typed, it brought me a kind of peace. That first draft was quite depressing, but as I came to terms with my situation, the book gained more light and laughs.
Thank you! I’ve really enjoyed reading the book and having the chance to ask you about the book.
The Maid’s Room is published by Hodder and Stoughton today and retails at 8.99. Thanks so much to the publishers for my review copy.
What a tonic this book is. I saved it to read until one cold snowy evening last week, as the Beast from the East did its worst outside and it was an excellent decision. ‘Dear Mrs Bird’ is exactly what you would want to be reading while the elements are howling at the door. It is warm, cosy in the best sense, and full of positive loveliness.
The story is told by Emmeline Lake, Emmy to her friends, who dreams of being a journalist – a lady war correspondent (it’s 1941) to be precise – and so when she spots an advert for a junior at The London Evening Chronicle, she seizes her chance and goes for an interview. It is only when she has quit her job and told all her friends at the fire station where she volunteers, that she finds the job is actually a typist at the Woman’s Friend, an ailing women’s monthly. Not only that, but she is the junior assistant to Mrs Bird, a redoubtable creature who is the magazine’s Acting Editress and agony aunt. Furthermore, Mrs Bird has STANDARDS when it comes to the type of letter she will answer and these are very restrictive indeed.
“I hardly think the Woman’s Friend reader wants her afternoon spoilt by This Kind Of Thing, do you?”
“Affairs… losing their heads… babies… UNPLEASANTNESSES,” she boomed, pausing to let the abomination sink in. “And, even, Miss Lake… NERVES.”
Well, really. Emmy tries to make the best of it, if only to save face and also because she starts to become friends with the rest of the very small staff at the magazine. However, she regards the women in the letters very differently to Mrs Bird and, after her early attempts to get Mrs Bird to answer some of the queries fail, decides to answer the letters herself.
Emmy lives with her best friend Bunty, and friends with a wider circle of girls, all of whom are trying to make it through the bombing raids in one piece, doing their bit but still trying to have fun. Emmy’s friends at the office are friendly and full of that old fashioned ‘making the best of things’ spirit but none of this feels cliched – you immediately care for all of them and don’t mind if this all sounds familiar in a Sunday evening TV drama kind of way. Mrs Bird herself must have been great fun to write.
As you can imagine, the letter writing scheme soon has consequences but not until after a dreadful tragedy that shakes Emmy’s world.
This is a light read, easy to get through, but shouldn’t be dismissed because of that. It seems so rare these days to have a book that offers comfort against dark times, and perhaps it’s exactly what we all need. Dear Mrs Bird is funny, sweet and warm, celebrating friendship and the consequences of taking a chance. Curl up and enjoy.
Louise Walters’ third book turns out to be her first. When I finished reading this, I tweeted her to say how much I enjoyed it and she replied to say it’s been sitting in a drawer for 10 years. Would that we all had novels of such quality in our drawers!
The Road to California is the name of Joanna’s quilting business. She sews beautiful quilts to earn a living, recycling vintage material from charity shops. The business is named after a quilting pattern but also has relevance for Joanna, who is sheltering secrets her son Ryan knows nothing of.
The book opens with Ryan at school, teased and bullied until one day he snaps, punches his bully and is suspended. A further incident at school later sees him accidentally punch his bully’s girlfriend and Ryan is excluded from school.
His mother, not knowing what else to do, suggests two things. One is to homeschool Ryan for a while and she joins forces with flower child Sharon and her children at a weekly study group. And she also makes a call for help. Into their lives rides Lex, a motorcyclist, glamorous and wealthy. Lex and Ryan hit it off immediately, and the reader (and then Ryan) soon suspect he is Ryan’s father.
Ryan, away from school, starts to blossom, reading a lot and practising the writing his old teacher told him he had a talent for. He also starts to study with the bully he punched from school, an unlikely friendship but a rewarding one. Relationships bloom between the three of them but then tragedy strikes.
This is a character-led novel, beautifully written, and full of normal flawed people just trying to get on with life the best way they can. The relationships are excellently portrayed, and it’s an absorbing mature read. As with a patchwork quilt, there are lovely details on the smallest parts that combine to make a stunning whole. I loved how the characters interacted, how Walters manages to illustrate how the mistakes we make can lead to the memories we rely on later. It’s a lovely novel and I wholly recommend it!
Walters is the author of two previous books, Mrs Sinclair’s Suitcase and her self-published follow up novel, A Life Between Us. The Road to California is also published on her own imprint and is easily her best yet. It is released in paperback on 1 March. Thanks to Louise Walters for my advance copy via Netgalley.
This is, primarily, a book about the housing crisis. Don’t let that put you off – but most of the characters are, in one way or another, affected by the current housing situation. It’s not an obvious theme for a spooky tale (I’m resisting calling this an out and out ghost story) but it’s also a portrait of a marriage, and an observation on the flighty nature of employment.
Sound too much? It’s mostly deftly juggled by Murray-Browne, though her characters are at times more annoying than they need to be. The main one, Eleanor, a working mother with two small girls moves into a Victorian house in need of renovation with her husband Richard. Richard is, without a doubt, one of the worst men I’ve ever read. He has already taken on a number of projects throughout their married life, and the house is his latest, while he also works part time and studies for an MA.
Eleanor has her doubts about the house, nothing that she can put down to anything more than a gut feeling but as they try to settle in, they find the upstairs room which is full of foreboding, strange leftover objects and scribblings on the wall from ‘Emily.’ Eleanor’s foreboding turn more serious later when the house starts to make her physically ill and has a detrimental effect on their daughter Rosie.
Eleanor isn’t immediately likeable but I felt for her so much as the book went on. Richard, despite seeing her illness, is still wedded to the renovation and overrides her objections. To pay for the renovations they take a lodger, Zoe, who is at a loose end in her career and her life, having broken up with her boyfriend and walked out of a job. She too is difficult to like, but if you wanted to look at representations of women acting like men – especially when it comes to fear of commitment – then Zoe is perfectly true to life. Her main concern is having regular sex, but she also feels the strange atmosphere of the house and starts to spend more time elsewhere.
I liked that it wasn’t too over the top at the end and I wasn’t sure how much I’d really been affected by it – until I had a sleepless night after I’d finished it. Somehow, it will get under your skin.
What a treat to read something as fresh and nicely eccentric as this. A book that’s full of stories, without being a book about stories, if that makes any sense.
Two Cousins of Azov or You can’t pickle love (it has a subtitle) ostensibly tells the story of Gor and Tolya, the two cousins of the title, both in the autumn of their days. Gor is trying to make himself better known as a magician and is busy training up a new assistant Sveta while dealing with a series of mysterious events. There’s a tapping. There’s a dead rabbit outside his door, and the egg he wanted to boil for tea has disappeared. Is he going mad or just getting old? Tolya, meanwhile, is in a hospital following a serious illness and being interviewed for a research project for a trainee doctor. Tolya insists on telling him stories of his childhood and harks way back into the past.
The book is structured to alternate the point of view and this makes it easier for the reader to pick out the symmetry in what’s going on. The tales told by Tolya are full of folk stories and charm, and there seems to be a significance to the events happening to Gor – will the two men find each other? Will they solve the mystery?
There is a wide cast of characters, all with little foibles and quirks, (you do have to concentrate to start with in order to get them all straight in your head) and there’s a lot of food mentioned. Of course as the book goes on, we find the characters are all connected and intertwined somehow, and we start to get to the bottom of the mysteries. The food however, is another matter. I do feel this should come with a selection of snacks available to eat while you read so you don’t spend your whole time feeling hungry, the way I did when I was reading.
The blurb on the back mentioned that if you were a fan of Rachel Joyce (which I am) you would like this. This seems correct – both authors look at exploring the lives of ordinary people where perhaps not much adventurous or exciting happens but what does happen has an impact and is worth telling.
In short, this is a charming novel with plenty of humour and fun. The two main characters are playful storytellers and I enjoyed spending time with them.
Two Cousins of Azov is published by Borough Press on 13 July 2017. Thanks to Borough Press for the review copy.
A new Rachel Joyce is always something to look forward to. Joyce specialises in writing about ordinary people, their trials and tribulations and funny ways. Especially their funny ways.
It’s 1988. Frank owns a music shop. He insists on selling only vinyl, despite this being the dawn of the CD. But Frank is not just any music shop owner, a far cry from the intimidating list-making types captured so well in Nick Hornby’s High Fidelity. Frank is welcoming, and happy to broaden his customer’s knowledge and improve their lives through his own knowledge in music. He makes links to different genres, and prescribes them to customers the way a doctor would with medicine.
Frank has attracted a group of friends equally as eccentric. The music shop is housed in a sad, neglected row of shops that a development company is trying to knock down to build ‘luxury’ flats. Scrawled National Front slogans mark many of the boarded up shop fronts. Frank’s friends own many of the businesses nearby and all are uncertain of the future. The Music Shop is, in many ways, a focal point for them all and Frank its unwilling leader. But Frank is alone. We know that his mother Peg bequeathed her love of music to him but she is dead and Frank has no one else. He is a man who needs to be prescribed ‘Verdi Cries’ by 10,000 Maniacs.
One morning, Ilsa Brauchmann, a woman in a green coat stands outside the shop. She catches Frank’s eye and then she faints onto the pavement. It’s a strange start to a strange relationship but Frank finds himself drawn to her and when she asks him to teach him about music they go on a series of ‘dates’ to a local cafe where he talks and brings her records. But Ilsa has a secret and this could ruin everything.
It’s the cast of characters and their interactions that make this book. Frank mostly plays it straight but others are allowed to be as eccentric as possible, and I especially love Kit, Frank’s young clumsy loving music shop assistant who likes to hand-draw their posters.
But there is a serious point to make too, about the pace of technology and development and how it can leave people behind. And then of course, there’s the music. We need a playlist to go with this book, to play as you read. I love that this has such variety, that a plotline about Handel’s Messiah sits alongside Aretha Franklin. Frank talks to people about music the way none of my boyfriends ever did, and their conversations were the poorer for it. Here we can clearly see that music has a power, to change, to heal, to talk to others and that it can take the soul of the lowliest people and make it fly.
The Music Shop is about connecting with others, about how we’re all worth a little time and effort, no matter how low we get. It’s about the wonder of Vivaldi and Miles Davis and Shalamar (yes really).
I’m celebrating. And to have you join in my celebrations I’m giving away everything you need to be a writer. Everything, except the sheer bloody mindedness, which I’m afraid you’ll have to cultivate yourself.
Would you like to win: coffee, biscuits, writing maps, notebooks and pen? You would? Great, read on.
Your ultimate writer’s kit includes:
Four Writing Maps! Containing prompts, illustrations and suggested reading on a theme, these pocket sized beauties are perfect for when you need a bit of inspiration. Each map has at least 12 prompts and these can be used anywhere, in groups or alone, and can give you an idea to transform your surroundings, observations and memories into stories. In your prize are: The Writing Over the Top Map, Writing with Fabulous Trees Map, Writing People Map and My Writing Life Map
Two pocket/ handbag sized lined notebooks, just perfect to carry around for when you need to jot something down
A Pilot G-Tec C4 pen, in a fetching coppery brown colour
A bag of freshly roasted coffee from Nottingham’s own Roasting House, to bring on that period of intense productivity we all need once in a while
A box of superior Elsa’s Story lemon butter cookies to munch while editing
How to enter
You have a number of different ways to enter the competition and each one will give you extra chances to win.