I had no intention of posting anything relating to Valentine’s Day, until I read a piece in the Guardian on reclaiming the day from the clutches of capitalism and tat: Could lockdown relight our love for Valentine’s Day? While you won’t catch me singing cheesy love songs or searching the snow for a posy of snowdrops, the article did ignite a twinge of nostalgia for the Valentines of early adolescence when receiving a card – or more often not – could make or break my day (week, month). And a concomitant soupçon of nostalgia for the nostalgia that inspired a scene in my debut novel, Sugar and Snails. So here’s my fractious 1970s household, where one teenager gets more cards than he ever wanted while another, with higher expectations, gets none. The images below the extract link to related material: a seasonal guest blog post, an online event and an offer of a free copy of Sugar and Snails.
In the dying days of the old asylums, three paths intersect.
A brother and sister separated for fifty years and the idealistic young social worker who tries to reunite them. Will truth prevail over bigotry, or will the buried secret keep family apart?
Told with compassion and humour, Anne Goodwin’s third novel is a poignant, compelling and brilliantly authentic portrayal of asylum life, with a quirky protagonist you won’t easily forget.
I’ve read a lot of excellent historical novels by female authors, but they don’t always (and this isn’t necessarily a criticism) forefront the female experience. For Women’s History Month I’ve plucked from my shelves, real and virtual, a few that particularly highlight the lives of women in days gone by. Firstly, I’m recommending 8 novels fictionalising famous and relatively unknown women; secondly I’ve selected 8 (from potentially hundreds) exploring historical happenings through a female perspective. All are from female authors who might yet become historical figures themselves!
But, Anne, the month isn’t over! And there’s still a guest post from stellar indie author Geoff Le Pard to come. Indeed there is, Anne, but I reserve the right to wrap up my reading a couple of days early. Click on the image to see my reviews.
Fortunately the end of the month doesn’t mean the much-heralded divorce from the EU – although I’m not ruling out the possibility of a crashout between drafting this and posting – but it does mark an intensification of the countdown to Christmas. Not that it interests me particularly, apart from in the hope of people buying my books as presents. For those in the East Midlands (UK) I’ve got two high street signing sessions scheduled next month. Who knows? I might even take along some tinsel!
Two short novels about doctoring, by authors with direct experience of the profession. The first, set in Egypt, is a semiautobiographical novel first published over half a century ago by one of the world’s most eminent feminists; the second, set in India, is a magic-realism story by a male author (but we won’t hold that against him). By sheer coincidence, neither of these authors names their characters, instead referring to them by role. (At least they don’t distinguish them by diagnoses!)
Annecdotal is marking refugee week with two new translations: a novella and novel by authors with direct experience of being a refugee. The first is an innovative collaboration between current residents of the Palestinian camp in Shatila and a London-based publisher; the second is by and about a Bosnian Muslim exiled to Croatia who later arrived in Scandinavia as a refugee.
If it’s irritating for novelists to be told by friends and acquaintances that they too could write a novel if they weren’t so busy doing more important things, then think how it must be for poets. Anyone with even a passing interest in words, or emotions, is likely to have composed a poem at some point, whether inspired by a sense of occasion or adolescent angst. You don’t even need a pen or a keyboard when you can juggle those lines in your head.
In literature, as in life, revolution often entails blood loss and drama. In these reviews we eavesdrop first on an assassination plot at the beginning of the Russian Revolution, while the second features an unexplained domestic death against the backdrop of the French Revolution.
entertaining fiction about identity, mental health and social justice
Annecdotal is where real life brushes up against the fictional.
Annecdotist is the blogging persona of Anne Goodwin:
slug-slayer, tramper of moors,
author of three fiction books.
LATEST POSTS HERE
I don't post to a schedule, but average around ten reviews a month (see here for an alphabetical list),
some linked to a weekly flash fiction, plus posts on my WIPs and published books.
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Anne Goodwin's books on Goodreads
Sugar and Snails
ratings: 52 (avg rating 4.21)
ratings: 60 (avg rating 3.17)
ratings: 9 (avg rating 4.56)
GUD: Greatest Uncommon Denominator, Issue 4
ratings: 9 (avg rating 4.44)
The Best of Fiction on the Web
ratings: 3 (avg rating 4.67)