Category:

How would you answer the covid novel’s call?

28/6/2020

History can’t have got the memo. The virus destined to put the world on pause has had us glued to the news: first with the exposure of right-wing government incompetence, then with the spotlight on racism we can no longer ignore. Whether this depresses or delights us, it’s hard to keep up. What’s the role of the writer – particularly writers like me with a tiny readership – in historic times? Should novelists switch to facts from fiction? Should we try to shape historic discourse or step back and observe?

7 Comments

Racism, entitlement and political protest in the age of covid

12/6/2020

8 Comments

Recently I was first-world-problems moaning about the deluge of emails from individuals and organisations offering to fill my apparently endless lockdown free time. Now it’s people shouting their condemnation of the murder of George Floyd and either flaunting their antiracist credentials or vowing to do better. My immediate reaction was: does it need to be said? On the one hand, if you’re sitting in my inbox, abhorrence should be your default setting. On the other, white people’s silence could be taken as support for the status quo.

8 Comments

On rescuing and burnout: are you trying to save the world?

31/5/2020

11 Comments

A new Twitter follower picked up on my post on self-compassion and flagged her own about the urge to rescue other people when the one who really needs rescuing is herself. Well, that got me rethinking a familiar theme which might account for why my email inbox is clogged and my to-do list is endless when the world is meant to be on pause. Apologies to those struggling with a loss of human contact and structure but, from where I stand, there’s a surfeit of life-belts in an extremely small pond.

11 Comments

The politics of unkindness and our collective mental health

18/5/2020

6 Comments

I was ready for mental health awareness week early this year, with a post prepared on the proposed theme of sleep. Fortunately, before pressing publish, I checked back on the Mental Health Foundation website to discover that, on account of the pandemic, they’d abandoned sleep for kindness; but it wasn’t too much trouble to write another post. There’s no doubt that receiving, doing or witnessing acts of kindness raises the spirits, something we all need right now. And while I wouldn’t want to detract from the heart-warming generosity of neighbour helping neighbour, there’s another side of the story that needs our attention. The culture of both the UK and US as we went into this crisis was one of massive unkindness; an iceberg that clapping for carers can’t possibly melt. And it’s disastrous for our collective mental health.

6 Comments

How our minds work: Tyll & Human Traces

19/1/2020

10 Comments

Although these two historical novels are very different, both sparked some deep reflection about the workings of the human mind, and especially how our reasoning and problem-solving is influenced by beliefs and assumptions which, in turn, are shaped by the times and cultures in which we live. Both are set primarily in mainland Europe – the first in the seventeenth century and the second towards the end of the nineteenth century and the beginning of the twentieth – and feature – predominantly in the first and latterly in the second – countries ravaged by war.

10 Comments

Seeking sanctuary in strange places: Dolores & I Never Promised You a Rose Garden

27/12/2019

6 Comments

In these two novels, a teenage girl needs a safe place to retreat from the world, but the sanctuary she’s chosen won’t easily let her go. In the first, a convent provides shelter to a girl fearful of the consequences of an unplanned pregnancy; in the second, a psychiatric hospital offers a welcome respite from the strain of appearing sane. It’s pure coincidence that the main characters’ names – Dolores and Deborah – begin with the same letter and that both remind me of my forthcoming novel, Matilda Windsor Is Coming Home.

6 Comments

Reason is irrelevant. ‘The people’ demand their pig in a poke

9/9/2019

14 Comments

For over three years, British politics have been a pantomime that gives democracy a bad name. A referendum dreamt up to unite the Tory party – spoiler alert, it didn’t – fragmenting the entire electorate with a just-over 50% vote in favour of economic self-harm[1]. The nettle grasped by a vicar’s daughter[2], and boy oh boy did that nettle sting. Still, she tackled it with robotic determination, while Rome burned[3], until she finally got the humbling she’d been rooting for since day one[4]. Now, for those of us bludgeoned by the Tory leadership contest[5], the victor’s blundering first week in parliament has been a joy. But will we find, amid proroguing parliament, sacking twenty-one of his mates – including the longest serving MP – and an apparent willingness to break the law rather than ask Brussels for an extension if he can’t secure a new deal, the final straw that will bring the country to its senses? I hope so, but I can’t believe it will.

[1] Leaving me and many others feeling homeless inside.
[2] Is that relevant, Anne? It is if she considered that a stamp of her morality, then went on to railroad through an agenda even she didn't want, having voted Remain.
[3] Or London did, in the Grenfell tower
[4] See Humbled Theresa puhleeeassse
[5]AKA a fascist plot to demoralise the Left

14 Comments

Part-time mourning for writerly disappointments?

20/7/2018

15 Comments

The writer’s life is rife with disappointment. One of the main factors differentiating the successful from the unsuccessful is not the degree of failure they encounter, but the ability and willingness to scrape oneself up from the ground and carry on. But how do we do that? The blogosphere thrums with posts on adopting an almost military discipline, but that’s not right for everyone. It’s not right for me.

15 Comments

Narrative structure, psychoanalytic theory and the grief that never goes

13/7/2018

14 Comments

I sometimes wonder if there’s a fundamental incompatibility between my ambitions to improve as a writer and attract more readers, and my loyalty to my personal truth. Certainly the recent trend towards up lit seems at odds with my need to embrace both light and dark. And industry advice doesn’t always acknowledge the complexity of being human and that characters can be as motivated by loss and fear as by desire.

14 Comments

Holiday settings: Murmuration & The Summer House

8/7/2018

6 Comments

If you’re going on holiday this summer, you might be tempted to take one of these novels with you. The first focuses on the people who entertain and assist the visitors to a Victorian pier at an English seaside resort across a period of over a century; the second on a family taking a long holiday together on the coast of Finland. But, of course, while it might be all smiles and bonhomie on the surface, there are disconcerting undercurrents to keep you turning the page. Let me know which takes your fancy.

6 Comments

Reimagining the birth pangs of psychoanalysis: When Nietzsche Wept by Irvin D Yalom

2/6/2018

10 Comments

In 1882, in a wintry Vienna, two brilliant minds connect. One is an ambitious, although rarely read, philosopher; the other is a highly respected diagnostician and doctor to the rich and famous. The men are drawn to each other’s ideas but, although one’s a bachelor and the other a married father of five, they have more in common than they realise. Both men’s obsession with a much younger woman is threatening their well-being.

10 Comments

People studies: Sight & Consent

19/2/2018

2 Comments

Although these two novels couldn’t be more different in tone – the first a literary exploration of a young mother’s development; the second tricksy thriller – I can’t resist pairing them for the other factors they have in common. Both feature thoughtful, philosophising, unnamed narrators; both take as their subject matter how we explore the inside and outside of other people, and ourselves. Both are ambitious and unusual in their approach; both are the author’s second book and a cracking read.

2 Comments

My fast first draft three years on

15/1/2018

8 Comments

Three years ago this week, I completed my first ever fast first draft of a novel. Four further drafts and a significant edit later, it’s ready for beta readers’ scrutiny. So it’s an ideal time to reflect on the overall process, and ask myself whether that’s a good way to go about creating a publishable book.

8 Comments

Winding down and cranking up for September

12/9/2017

10 Comments

I love September. I love that the world beyond my desk is winding down, my garden yielding the last of its harvest before clocking off for winter, while the pencil-sharpening back-to-work feeling – honed by decades of education and relished now without the accompanying dread – is igniting in my head. The return of some to school means the outside world is quieter and less crowded for those of us with the freedom to choose our hours of work and play, and September often brings better weather than August (although, having resorted to turning on the central heating a couple of times last month, there’s not much competition – nor any sign of improvement on that so far this month).

10 Comments

The Messiah Narrative

13/4/2017

4 Comments

Even if you’re not a fan of Baroque music, you’d probably recognise at least one of the magnificent choruses from George Frideric Handel’s Messiah. If not the jolly “For Unto Us a Child Is Born”, perhaps the main justification for its popularity at Christmas, then you must know the exuberant “Hallelujah”. But there are fifty-one other choruses and solos that make up the three-hour long oratorio. This beautiful book tells the story of its composition and musical afterlife.

4 Comments

A necessary nip of narcissism?

26/3/2017

15 Comments

It had been a great night at the Polari salon in Nottingham, and the audience was waiting for the final performer to take the stage, when a woman bounded from the back of the room. Scowl framed by the hood of her black anorak, and ignoring the compere’s insistence that she wasn’t on the programme, Barbara Brownskirt barked out a series of poems from her numerous unpublished collections about, among other things, her unrequited love for Judi Dench. She was scary. She was hilarious. She was – and still is – the unsuccessful lesbian Poet-in-Residence at the 197 bus stop, Penge, and the brilliant creation of writer and performer Karen McLeod.

15 Comments

Don’t be seduced by the allure of romance!

14/2/2017

6 Comments

If love makes the world go round, it’s hardly surprising that romance crops up as a subplot across most genres of fiction. But, as writers, we need to beware of letting the love interest get out of hand and obscure the more complex themes of our novel. As readers, we need to be alert to publishers dressing up a gruelling narrative as a modern Pride and Prejudice because, let’s face it, sex sells.

For Valentine’s Day, I’m reviving a post that appeared in October 2015 on the Reading Writers website, which is now defunct.

6 Comments

Beyond the sum of their parts?

26/12/2016

6 Comments

Every novel is comprised of different parts that writers, readers and reviewers hope will combine into a satisfying whole. My last two reviews of 2016 – before I reveal my favourites of the year – are of novels for which finding that coherence is a particular challenge, but extremely worthwhile if achieved. Both published this summer, neither seems to have attracted many reviews on Goodreads, but I’m impressed with both (albeit one more than the other) so I hope you’ll at least give my reviews a chance.

6 Comments

Fictionalising the famous: de Beauvoir & Freud

9/12/2016

6 Comments

Following on from my review of The Fortunes, which fictionalises the lives of ought-to-be-more-famous Chinese Americans, I’m reviewing two novels featuring well-known European intellectuals at either side (in the temporal rather than allegiance sense of the word) of the Second World War.

6 Comments

A conversation like no other: In Therapy by Susie Orbach

25/11/2016

7 Comments

Psychotherapists face a dilemma when it comes to sharing the fruits of their discoveries with a wider public. The technical language, especially regarding psychoanalytic psychotherapy, which practitioners use to communicate between themselves, can be cumbersome, offputting and open to misinterpretation by the uninitiated. Case studies, such as those assembled by Steven Grosz, can be both extremely readable and illuminating, but they do present a problem of confidentiality: even when clients give their consent, some would question whether, within the power dynamics of the relationship, this can ever be freely given yet, the more the details are anonymised, the greater the potential distortion. Susie Orbach is a British psychotherapist, activist and writer who has done much to demystify psychoanalytic thinking (e.g. with several comment pieces in the Guardian, including this recent one on Brexit trauma). Her latest project, on which this short book is based, is a radio series mimicking the experience of the consulting room.

7 Comments