CARIADS’ CHOICE: SEPTEMBER BOOK REVIEWS

Eva Glyn’s The Olive Grove, reviewed by Kitty Wilson

The Olive Grove is also the story of Antonia, a middle-aged woman who has left an unhealthy love affair and whose daughter is of an age where she needs to become more independent. With no job, no relationship and the understanding she needs to make space for her daughter to grow, Antonia finds herself working for Damir and together the two of them help each other heal, forge a future and learn to believe in themselves.

Eva Glyn writes with empathy and compassion about Damir and her exploration of the conflict in Croatia reminds us powerfully of the atrocities of a war that was so close to home and the long-term effects war has on a community, generations after the fighting has stopped.

It is a beautiful story and Eva Glyn’s powerful prose creates the most magical setting. As I read, I was transported to another country and loved how all of my senses were stimulated by the evocative descriptive writing. A fabulous book that I am more than happy to recommend.

 

Tania Crosse’s Nobody’s Girl, reviewed by Jane Cable

I do love a saga and Tania Crosse had been recommended by so many people, when I wanted a reliable book to read I chose one of hers. I wasn’t disappointed. Nobody’s Girl charts the stories of two women in 1930s Kent, one a teenage farmer’s daughter and the other the childless wife of a well-to-do businessman. They meet in tragic circumstances and a rich and fascinating story unfolds.

Despite being true to its time the main characters are not stereotypical, and that and a strong supporting cast brings this novel alive. The surprises are not so much in what happens, but in how the characters react and grow, and I would highly recommend this book. I was also very pleased to discover there is a sequel, A Place to Call Home.

 

Freya Kennedy’s The Hopes and Dreams of Libby Quinn, reviewed by Carol Thomas

 There’s lots to like about this lovely story. It was an uplifting, enjoyable read. The depth of Libby’s feelings for her grandad Ernie is evident in the affection with which she recalls her memories of him and her desire to realise his dreams. The characters were all likeable, and the community setting of Ivy Lane made it a cuddle of a book. The male lead, Noah, is portrayed well, and I could feel the growing affection between him and Libby. I frequently smiled as I read and even shed a tear. Overall, it’s a great read.

 

Sarah Edghill’s A Thousand Tiny Disappointments, review by Jan Baynham

A poignant and emotional read!

A Thousand Tiny Disappointments takes you on an emotional roller coaster of a journey dealing with grief, loss and a building of self-esteem. The title intrigued me and as I read further into the story, it became clear how apt it was. It’s a hard read at times; you feel for the main character, Martha, as she becomes physically and mentally exhausted by the demands put upon her. The relationship with her son, Joe, is beautifully described. The author creates authentic, multi-layered characters. The role of women as portrayed in both the characters of Martha and Alice as well as Martha’s dilemma to do the right thing are two of a number of themes explored in the novel, resulting in a thought-provoking read. I particularly liked the uplifting ending that made this a satisfying and enjoyable novel. Highly recommended.

 

 

 

 

Snow Country by Sebastian Faulks Book Review

How to review Sebastian Faulks’ new novel? That is the question. Sebastian Faulk is one of the best novelists writing today and his books are eagerly awaited. Snow County is a sublime novel. Full of poetry and intelligence. I found myself re-reading pages and paragraphs as I fell in love with the book. Snow Country is the novel that Sebastian has wanted to write for ten years and I am glad he has. It is an epic, wistful,  love story, full of yearning and gorgeous atmosphere. I really felt that I was transported to 1910/20s Vienna.

Sebastian Faulk is a master storyteller and this is the perfect book to curl up with this Autumn. It is definitely one of my favourite books. Snow Country is the second book in a planned trilogy. The first was Human Traces. It can be read as a standalone novel. Get your hands on a copy now.  I will definitely be reading this again.

snow country, sebastian faulks, book review, catherine balavage

1914: Young Anton Heideck has arrived in Vienna, eager to make his name as a journalist. While working part-time as a private tutor, he encounters Delphine, a woman who mixes startling candour with deep reserve. Entranced by the light of first love, Anton feels himself blessed. Until his country declares war on hers.

 

1927: For Lena, life with a drunken mother in a small town has been impoverished and cold. She is convinced she can amount to nothing until a young lawyer, Rudolf Plischke, spirits her away to Vienna. But the capital proves unforgiving. Lena leaves her metropolitan dream behind to take a menial job at the snow-bound sanatorium, the Schloss Seeblick.

 

1933: Still struggling to come terms with the loss of so many friends on the Eastern Front, Anton, now an established writer, is commissioned by a magazine to visit the mysterious Schloss Seeblick. In this place of healing, on the banks of a silvery lake, where the depths of human suffering and the chances of redemption are explored, two people will see each other as if for the first time.

 

Sweeping across Europe as it recovers from one war and hides its face from the coming of another, SNOW COUNTRY is a landmark novel of exquisite yearnings, dreams of youth and the sanctity of hope. In elegant, shimmering prose, SebastianFaulks has produced a work of timeless resonance.

Snow Country is available here.

Just Haven’t Met You Yet By Sophie Cousens Book Review

Sophie Cousens’s debut novel This Time Next Year was one of 2020’s standout novels. It was a well-deserved runaway success and gave Sophie Cousens her rightful place as a writer to watch. Yes, she has done it again with Just Haven’t Met You Yet. Another blinder of a novel, it tells the story of romance-obsessed Laura and her quest to meet The One. I saw one reviewer call it “rom-com perfection” and it is hard to think of a more fitting description.

Just Haven’t Met You Yet is another corker from Cousens, you will love the characters just as much as I did. I love the Jersey setting, you really get immersed in the island. I learned so much and want to go now. Just Haven’t Met You Yet is a wonderful, clever novel. You will read it with a smile on your face. Brilliant.

just haven't met you yet, sophie cousens

Tell me the story of how you two met…

Laura has built a career out of interviewing people about their epic real life love stories.

When she picks up the wrong suitcase at the airport, Laura wonders if this could be the start of something that’s written in the stars.

From piano sheet-music to a battered copy of her favourite book, Laura finds in the bag evidence of everything she could hope for in a partner.

If Laura’s job has taught her anything it’s that when it comes to love, you can’t let opportunity pass you by. Now Laura is determined to track down the owner of the suitcase, and her own happy ending.

But what if fate has other ideas?
Just Haven’t Met You Yet is available here.

WELSH WRITING WEDNESDAYS: ALIENORA BROWN ON THE INFLUENCE OF THE WELSH LANGUAGE

I arrived in Aberystwyth train station, on October 3rd 1976, and, bathed in a sunset of extraordinary richness and colour, was driven up the Penglais Hill – by coach and surrounded by other students – to the Penbryn Halls of Residence.

Is it possible to fall in love with a place at first sight? Yes, it is – and I did! That first glimpse, stark hills rearing in the distance, struck a sweet blow to my heart – and, the very next day, seeing parts of the promenade painted with blazing autumn gold, as grey silken sea undulated nearby, ignited a passion for West Wales which has never left me.

But it was the language which shivered and undulated in watery mystery; which gave me the delights of the double ‘ll’, the mutations from the ‘M’ of ‘Machnylleth’ to ‘Fachynlleth’ when preceded by ‘Croeso y…’ and the other sibilant mysteries of this proud tongue.

I had already decided to read joint English and Philosophy – and, told that I needed a third subject for that crucial first year at university, opted for Welsh with excitement and anticipatory joy.

Welsh lessons took place in the Old College/Yr Hen Goleg – and so the learning of this new language was accompanied by the stunning glimpses of the sea, often wild and raging, throwing its waves high up against the venerable old building’s sides and windows, rattling fragile sashes and leaving salty trails on glass.

Our teacher, Professor Edward (Tedi) Milward, was lovely – a gentle and knowledgeable soul who was a passionate advocate of this endangered language, and whose family I befriended during that first year in Wales.

From the very first lesson, I adored the sound of Welsh: its musicality; its sing-song quality; the subtle differences in pronunciation; the meanings of place names when broken down into their component parts.

At around the same time, I joined a university choir – and we learned a beautiful Welsh carol ‘Tua Bethlem Dref’ in readiness for what turned out to be a most moving and inspirational Christmas service in a local church.

Unfortunately, my passionate love of the language was not matched by any genuine learning ability – and, suspecting I would not gain that all-important pass in the subject, I made the difficult decision to give it up at the end of the first term, taking Classical Studies instead.

The odd thing is this: naturally musical, I learned the sounds – the inner song, if you like – of Welsh with ease, and, to this day, can read and pronounce it without any problem. But the ability to understand the rules, learn the words, tenses and so forth eluded me (as it had done, at school, for both French and Latin).

But, being given the key (or should that be the lyre?) for the plangent tones behind the language was a privilege and a life-long delight. Much of my enjoyment of the sublime landscape and magic of that area was filtered through the lilt and cadence of the language itself.

By a strange coincidence – and bringing things full circle – I got the part of the Lady of the Lake in a local Glastonbury production, back in 2018. Told that the character needed to enter the stage singing a solo, I opted for ‘Tua Bethlem Dref’ – and can recall vividly walking up the centre of the Town Hall, the words of that long-ago Welsh song ringing and echoing from my throat: a love song for a time, a place and an ancient language.

 

 

 

How I Got Published By Alec Marsh

Alec Marsh, writer, authorWhen I was 21 I started to write a novel. It wasn’t very good. I was working as a reporter for a local paper in Cornwall and my book… was about a reporter working for a local paper in Cornwall. 

Soon I moved to London to work for the Daily Telegraph and started writing a second novel. It was about a young journalist working for a newspaper in London. 

It wasn’t very good either. 

I met a top agent at a function and asked him if he’d see it. 

‘What’s it about?’ he asked.

After several seconds of flannelling he cut in: ‘If you can’t tell me in under 11 seconds then I’m not interested.’ 

I’d been introduced to the idea of the elevator pitch. If you can’t encapsulate your idea in a nutshell, you’ve had it.

I kept writing and the rejection slips (paper in those days) kept piling up.

Then one day a friend suggested I try my hand at historical fiction. ‘You’re obsessed about the past,’ he said. And it was true.

About a year later I read The Da Vinci Code, and was hooked. 

And I thought, “I can do that.”

So I started thinking about a historical mystery that could sit at the heart of a story, and some characters that would have sticking power.

That was around 2004. Before I knew it, I had started writing what would become my first novel, Rule Britannia. And I knew I was onto something, I could feel it in my fingertips. My characters – a historian and mountaineer Ernest Drabble and his pal, a journalist named Harris – were alive. And so was the story.

With a half-written book, I started polishing and went looking for an agent. Again the rejection slips piled up (still paper).

Then one day in 2008 an email landed at about 6pm on Saturday evening from an agent. Do you have any more, he asked?

I didn’t sleep that night. Soon I’d emailed the next three chapters, then we had a meeting. After that, I had an agent and went off to finish the book – armed with the self-confidence to finish it properly, to believe in myself and the benefits of his insights.

The agent then took it to market. But it was 2009 and e-readers, Amazon and the global financial crisis was hitting hard, and – for whatever reason – my book didn’t sell. After a dozen very polite rejections from major publishers, my agent suggested I try writing a different book. Which I did. 

For five years I wrote a book set in the First World War, but Drabble and Harris were still in the back of my mind, calling to me from the binary prison of a hard drive. 

By 2015 the First World War book was finished – but so was my relationship with my agent who finally spelled it out to me when he told me this was not a book that he could sell to his clients. We were finished.

Exhausted and disappointed, I stopped knocking on doors that wouldn’t open and focused instead on my day job. Every now and then someone would ask about Drabble and Harris; I would change the subject.

Then my son Herbie was born in 2016, and his arrival rekindled my ambition. So in the small hours, I dug out Rule Britannia and reread it, shook my head at parts that hadn’t aged well, and I polished it. And I pitched it again.

After a string of rejections (emails now), I went direct to publishers, finding an independent in Cardiff, named Accent Press. 

When the owner telephoned me and told me she’d take it – and she’d want two more books after – I was standing in a corridor at work. I didn’t punch the air, but a tear might have come to my eye. It had taken 20 years and I had endured numerous disappointments but it had finally happened. Drabble and Harris would get to their readers, and I was going to have a novel out. So what’s my advice for would-be authors. Don’t give up. And as Martin Amis once told me when I asked him for advice at book-signing: keep writing. After all, what else are you going to do?

Alec Marsh is author of the Drabble & Harris novels, published by Headline Accent. The latest book, ‘Ghosts of the West’ is published in original paperback and ebook on 9 September

 

WELSH WRITING WEDNESDAYS: INTRODUCING INDEPENDENT AUTHOR ALIENORA BROWNING

Writing is, for me, like breathing: I feel oxygen-starved without it, and it has the same natural rhythms, dips and soaring highs. It is also my dominant ‘voice’ since I tend to be a listener, rather than a talker, in many situations.

I do not remember learning to write per se, but I do recall a wonderful ‘Aha!’ moment, when I was five or six, when I suddenly made the connection between the five letters which made up my nickname, its sound and the fact that it was part of me!

I wrote a play when I was eleven – and have it still, neatly written in a little blue exercise book. This was during the summer of 1969, just after my class watched the Moon Landing – and as I waited to start grammar school, having passed the 11+.

I can see that younger self, sitting in the hammock in the back garden, pen in hand, sun shining down on my hunched back, scribbling away – and feel the wave of creative excitement which lifted me up and suspended me, briefly, above the everyday world.

My now-nearly-fifty-year journal-writing habit started by accident (in the sense that I had never thought of such a way of expressing myself until then) in early January 1972.

Two days before my fourteenth birthday, a group of us from my school went to Glasbury, in Wales, for a fortnight of physical activity: climbing, canoeing, camping, gorge-walking and so forth. As part of the course, we were each given a pale green notebook – and asked to keep a diary account of our experiences.

I fell in love with this means of expression immediately – and, while most of the girls loathed having to do it every day, I relished the exercise and very much felt as if I had found my voice, as a girl and as a writer; in fact, so enamoured of it did I become that I ended up filling two green books!

I now have over a hundred volumes of the journal, currently stashed away in a safe space – and use it almost every day (though there are, inevitably, gaps over the years and decades), even writing in it whilst in labour and on the day my son was born!

The novel-writing came upon me towards the end of my time at Aberystwyth University – and early drafts of books won me an honourable mention, a third prize and a first prize in local South West Arts Writers in Progress awards.

Motherhood, marriage and full time teaching very much put the novel-writing side of things on the back burner – and it was only when I took early retirement in 2011 that I was able to complete previous books and write more.

I now have seven books published via Amazon and KDP (all available as both e-books and paperbacks) – and ideas for an eighth are bubbling excitedly away in my creative cauldron.

The truth is very simple: I absolutely love writing – and that intimate, joyous connection between mind, hand, pen and paper never fails to delight and inspire me.

 

 

CARIADS’ CHOICE: AUGUST BOOK REVIEWS

Eva Glyn’s The Missing Pieces of Us, reviewed by Jan Baynham

I enjoyed ‘The Missing Pieces of Us’ immensely. Eva Glyn takes us on an emotional journey with the two main characters, Izzie and Robin. I liked the way the themes of love, grief, loss, and memory are explored from each of their POVs. The story slowly reveals how things that happened twenty years before have impacted on the two characters and made them the people they are today. The character of Claire is also developed well so that she plays a pivotal role in the journey. Central to the story is the fairy tree where people can come to make wishes and leave gifts. For me, that added element of folk-lore and magic makes the novel a little bit different.

 

Sandy Barker’s The Dating Game, reviewed by Kitty Wilson

I loved this perfect, feelgood summer read. The Dating Game is a gorgeous slow-burn romance with whip-smart humour threaded through every page.

Abby has been coerced into taking part on a dating show in Sydney to help inform her as she writes snarky reviews of each episode as her hilarious alter-ego, Anastasia. Whilst there, her relationship builds with the handsome producer, Jack, and I was rooting for them to get together all the way through.

This book isn’t a simple romance though, it is also a book that testifies to the strength of female friendship even when these women are pitted against each other.

Sandy Baker writes with such wit and warmth that it’s impossible not to get totally invested in this story and I frequently laughed out loud as we followed Abby and the other Does from one hideous Stag date to another. Wonderful, feelgood romcom escapism and highly recommended.

 

Philip Gwynne Jones’ The Venetian Game, reviewed by Evonne Wareham

If the lure of “Venice” in the title and the sumptuous cover tempt you into this book – you won’t be disappointed. Philip Gwynne Jones is Welsh, but now lives in Venice and it shows. This is the first in a series – now up to five – featuring Honorary British Consul Nathan Sutherland who has a talent for getting involved in unusual crimes that are rooted in the life of the city and which offer a real opportunity for some authentic armchair travel. Other than his consular work Nathan lives a more or less blameless life translating lawn mower manuals, frequenting the local bar and pandering to his ungrateful cat Gramsci. In this first in the series his consular role sees him reluctantly taking charge of a mysterious package which leads him into a tangled trail of forgery, theft and violence – an art scandal embedded in a deadly and longstanding feud between a pair of brothers.

 

Deborah Carr’s An Island at War, reviewed by Jane Cable

The fact Deborah Carr was born and bred in Jersey shines through in this novel, which is impeccably researched, apparently with the aid of family records.

The story is one of the German occupation and starts just a few days before the troops arrived and ends as they leave. I loved the fact that the passage of time and the events in the characters’ lives seemed so natural and it allowed Estelle’s story to unfold at just the right pace. The characters are wonderful too, and I came to really care about what happened to them, particularly enjoying the sensitive portrayal of how war can change everything, even the things we think are written in stone, about ourselves and about other people.

The one thing I was unsure about was the ending, but all the same I applaud the author for it. To say anything more would spoil the book and I wouldn’t want to do that, because it’s one you should read for yourself.

 

 

 

EVA GLYN ON THE INSPIRATION BEHIND THE OLIVE GROVE

Sometimes an idea for a book creeps into your heart and stays there. That was how The Olive Grove started for me, with a story told by our tour guide when we were on holiday in Croatia.

We were on a small-boat cruise that began in Dubrovnik and after visiting the main islands off the Dalmatian coast and some interesting places on the mainland, ended up in Trogir. And when we were on board travelling there were talks we could listen to and to make our experience complete we wanted to lap up every one.

The war in Yugoslavia was perhaps not a particularly enticing topic when the alternative was to sit on deck, watching the glistening sea ripple alongside the boat while soaking up some sun, but I remembered hearing about the war on the news at the time and was keen to know more. And then, somewhere between the dates, whys and wherefores, our guide Darko began to tell an incredible story. His own.

I suppose I had assumed Darko was Croatian, but he is in fact Bosnian and grew up in Mostar, one of the towns that was to be worst hit by the fighting. His father was a soldier in the Yugoslav army, but when everything fractured and splintered he followed his ethnicity and joined the Croatian side, having to leave his Serbian wife (and Serbia was now the enemy) at home with their sons.

I will never forget the silence in the room at the horror of what we were told. No electricity, no water, bombs raining down, queuing for food at the community organisation – life as we would all recognise it wiped out over the course of a few days in a war that would last for years. Darko’s life moved underground to the shelters, because they were the only safe place. And he was one of the lucky ones, because living in the army housing meant the shelters were purpose-built, deep and strong.

There were moments to awful to contemplate. Darko’s mother actually disappeared, as many people did during ethnic cleansing, but he was one of the few lucky ones because she actually came back. But there were moments of light too; finding a food parcel dropped by the UN and hoping it was one with chocolate inside.

These incidents and more form the kernel of The Olive Grove, but viewed through the prism of time by my proud Croatian character Damir. Orphaned during the war he was brought up by his aunt on the beautiful island of Korcula (which we visited during our trip); brought up to forget everything about his life before he came to the island. But when she dies, the past creeps back to find him.

While Darko wears his wartime past with relative ease (which is often the case when everyone around the child is having the same experiences, when the awfulness becomes a sort of normal), fictional Damir no longer can. And help comes from a surprising quarter. A middle aged English woman called Antonia who feels she has messed up her life so badly she takes a job on the island to take stock and to heal.

And that’s what The Olive Grove is really about. It’s about healing and friendship. Like Darko’s childhood memories there is sunshine and shade. And unlike them there is the most incredibly beautiful setting.

With Darko’s help over countless Zoom meetings during lockdown I have been able to create authentic Croatian characters and culture, so as well as the initial inspiration, there are many other reasons why The Olive Grove could not have been written without him. And what’s even better, we have become friends across the miles too.