Category Archives: Culture

‘NEVER NEVER’ by Colleen Hoover and Tarryn Fisher

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The powerhouse couple of Colleen Hoover and Tarryn Fisher was always going to be an event and my, my, what a book this is. The first in a trilogy about a teenager couple who’s memory vanishes. It’s hard to place the genre initially, but the ride is there in the characterisation and whip-smart dialogue. It made me laugh, smile and kept my guessing all of the way.

A good starter to what I reckon is going to be a belter of a trilogy. Loved it.

Charlie Wynwood and Silas Nash have been best friends since they could walk. They’ve been in love since the age of fourteen. But as of this morning… they are complete strangers. Their first kiss, their first fight, the moment they fell in love… every memory has vanished.

Now Charlie and Silas must work together to uncover the truth about what happened to them and why. But the more they learn about the couple they used to be… the more they question why they were ever together to begin with.

Forgetting is terrifying, but remembering may be worse.

The Number One Sunday Times bestselling author of It Ends with Us joins forces with the New York Times bestselling author of The Wives for a gripping, twisty, romantic mystery unlike any other.

 

Never Never

By Colleen Hoover and Tarryn Fisher

About the author:

Colleen Hoover is the #1 New York Times and international bestselling author of multiple novels and novellas. She lives in Texas with her husband and their three boys. She is the founder of The Bookworm Box, a non-profit book subscription service and bookstore in Sulphur Springs, Texas.

 

Tarryn Fisher is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of nine novels. Born a sun hater, she currently makes her home in Seattle, Washington, with her children, husband, and psychotic husky. She loves connecting with her readers on Instagram.

 

WRITERS ON THE ROAD: ALISON MORTON

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A small child, curls bobbing on a head she’s forgotten to cover with the sunhat her mother insists on, crouched down on a Roman mosaic floor in north-east Spain. Mesmerised by the purity of the pattern, and the tiny marble squares, she almost didn’t hear her father calling her to the next one.

Jumping up, she eagerly ran to him, babbling questions like many eleven-year-olds do: who were the people who lived here, what were they called, what did they do, where did they come from, where have they gone?

The father, a numismatist and senior ‘Roman nut’, told her about the Greek town founded 575 BC which became Roman Emporiæ in 218 BC, where traders sailed in and out with their cargoes of olive oil, wine, textiles, glass and metals; where people lived in higgledy-piggledy houses, traded from little shops; where the Roman army based its operations; where money was minted. And the people came from every corner of the Roman Empire to live and work. Boys went to schools and girls learnt to be good wives and mothers.

The little girl listened carefully to every word, sifting the information. Her hand in his, she turned as they left, looked back at the mosaics and asked her father:.

“What would it be like if Roman women were in charge, instead of the men?”
Clever man, my father replied:
“What do you think it would be like?”

I thought about it for nearly five decades, then poured it all into my first book.

Since that first Roman road trip in Spain, I’ve clambered over bridges, explored former bathhouses, barracks and forts and wondered at theatres and amphitheatres in different parts of France, Germany, Britain, Italy, even former Yugoslavia. And I’ve walked on Roman roads connecting these sites and settlements across Europe.

The via Domitia running along the coast from Spain to Italy provided a fast and sure link between the key province of Hispania and the imperial centre in Rome. Built in 118 BC, it’s still with us, wheel ruts included, over 2,000 years later. At Ambrussum in southern France, it formed a junction with the route northwards up the Rhone Valley into central Gaul. I stood on those slabs, where those three roads met, closed my eyes and ‘saw’ thousands of people, carts, mules, legionaries and the odd imperial courier, many of them shouting at me to get out of their way. The Romans were busy people, much like us today.

When writing my latest story set in AD 370 – itself a Roman ‘road trip’– I discovered how common it was for current routes to bear the names given to them two thousand years ago. The strada stalale 3 entering Rome from the north is still called the Via Flaminia; from the northwest, the Via Cassia (strada regionale 2) enters Rome heading for the Milvian Bridge as it did in Augustus’s day.  And you can still walk (or in some parts) even ride in your car along the via Appia.

The persistence of these road names seems romantic, but the Romans were hard-headed military engineers. For them, it was a question of reaching B from A in the fastest, most efficient and logical way. Small wonder than very many countries in Europe built their road networks following the same routes.

Travel on the ground is exciting, eye-opening and educational, but seeing and touching the roads, floors and walls and looking at their glassware, pottery, household equipment and thus imagining the people who walked, lived, and worked in those places takes us on a very different journey – the one into time.

 

If you’d like to learn more about my alternative Roman novels, Roman life and a journey through time, please come and visit me at alison-morton.com.

 

 

 

WRITERS ON THE ROAD: CHRISTINA COURTENAY

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I write stories about the Vikings, and being half Swedish, it would have been easy to just set all of them in Sweden as it’s a place I know well. But where would be the fun in that? The Vikings were intrepid travellers and explorers, and journeyed far and wide. I had a wealth of places to choose from, and as I’ve been working on a series, I decided early on that each book would feature a different location. That hopefully makes it more fun for both the readers and myself!

Book five, Promises of the Runes, (out this month) is set in Norway, and I’d previously used Sweden, Russia, Iceland and England. For book six, therefore, which I’m working on at the moment, I turned my sights on the Orkney Islands. It was a place Scandinavians had traded with for centuries, and no one really knows exactly when they began to settle there rather than just visit occasionally. By the 9th century, when my book takes place, they were well established and had integrated fully with the previous occupants, the Celts. Most of the islands have Norse names – any that end in ‘ey’, for example, as that means ‘island’.

There is nothing better for an author than to actually visit a place we are writing about. It helps with descriptions, catching the essence of a place – its scents, sounds, nature and people. So I dragged my husband along on an epic road trip. A twelve hour drive up to Scrabster, followed by 90 minutes on a ferry, and suddenly there they were – the gorgeous Orkney Islands.

We were incredibly lucky with the weather and had beautiful sunshine and blue skies interspersed with fluffy clouds. The air is so clear and I found myself wishing I could paint the landscape just because the light was so brilliant. There’s a huge amount of history, going back to Neolithic times, but I was concentrating on anything remaining from the Viking era. We headed first to the Brough of Birsay, a tidal island that can only be reached by a causeway during low tide. Here are the remains of a large Viking settlement, the outlines of the houses clear on the grassy site. I could definitely see why they’d wanted to live in such a beautiful location! It was also perfect for use in my story.

We visited several other Viking sites – one at Orphir called Earl’s Bu and another at Deerness. To reach the latter, we had to walk along spectacular cliffs that were part of a nature reserve. The Vikings had a settlement on top of a 30 metre high sea stack on a promontory sticking out into the North Sea – an isolated place, but again, stunning. Nearby was a beach and cove, perfect for longships.

In Kirkwall, the main town, the historical museum had lots of Viking items, among them a bear tooth carved with runes. It might have been worn as protection against magic or to imbue the wearer with a bear’s strength.

The most poignant reminder of the Vikings, however, was in the Neolithic tomb at Maeshowe. Shaped sort of like a beehive buried inside a huge earth mound, it is reached via a 10 metre long tunnel only a metre high. A thousand years ago a group of Vikings had apparently taken shelter there and scratched graffiti all over the walls. There were more than 30 messages written in runes. It really made these people come alive for me and I could see them sitting in there, bored and restless. The connection was almost visceral and I was so pleased I got to experience this.

If you get the chance, do visit the Orkneys!

Buy link for Promises of the Runes – https://geni.us/ExsdDss 

 

 

JANE CABLE REVIEWS…

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Two research books, and two book club reads this time. My book of the month is Tracy Chevalier’s stunning story, The Last Runaway.

 

The Girl Who Left by Debra Gavranich

I read this book in the name of research, because I was fascinated by the opportunity to read a first hand account of the Second World War on the Croatian island of Korcula, and I wasn’t disappointed. Such gems in the English language are rare, and this family history is firmly rooted in the author’s mother’s memories, and well written.

As Marija’s story unfolds I found that I really cared about the outcome and her journey across the oceans as a proxy was fascinating. I must admit I only scanned the parts about her life in Australia, but my lack of interest was a personal thing and no reflection on the book.

 

The Last Runaway by Tracy Chevalier

Such a brilliant book, it took me straight to nineteenth century Ohio with all the harshness and iniquities of life there.

Honor Bright is a quaker from Dorset who accompanies her sister to America, where she is to be married. But the fates are cruel and the bride dies on the way, so Honor arrives in rural Ohio alone. The story revolves around her quest for friendship and happiness, but also her desire help escaped slaves in the Underground Railroad to Canada, which runs through the community where she lives.

Rich in description, strong in emotion, run through with tension, this is close to a perfect read. The characters became almost real to me and I was completely invested in Honor’s story and how her choices affected those around her. It was only the ending that left me feeling a tiny, tiny bit short-changed but I would still unreservedly recommend this very special novel.

 

Orlando by Virginia Woolf

If the author hadn’t explained in the foreword she’d started to write this as a bit of a joke, I don’t think I would have got it – and there were moments the author’s asides made me laugh out loud. I have to admit that I skimmed through much of it. but I did love the dreamlike elasticity of time, gender and sexuality and it was clearly a book ahead of its time.

Orlando is born a boy in the Elizabethan era and ages only a little and rather irregularly so in effect travels through time. But the real fascination for me was when he becomes a woman part way through the story and is therefore in a position to compare the two states.

If like a highly unusual read, rich in description and introspection, this is definitely worth a go.

 

The Sunrise by Victoria Hislop

I loved the premise of this book, set in the Cypriot resort of Famagusta, which was abandoned during the troubles in the 1970s which divided the island. However for me it didn’t completely deliver. For some reason I couldn’t buy into the love story between the nightclub manager and his boss, and although I appreciated the tensions which led to the arrival of the Turkish troops, for me it took far too long to happen.

What I did really love was the relationship between the neighbouring families of Greek Cypriots and Turkish Cypriots and how that developed. And as ever with Victoria Hislop, the sense of place was phenomenal and the historical research extensive. I just didn’t fall in love with it as much as some of her other books.

 

EVA GLYN’S HIDDEN CROATIA: EATING WITHIN DUBROVNIK’S WALLS

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First let me say that I am one lucky, lucky writer. Long have I dreamt of eating at Dubrovnik’s only Michelin starred restaurant, and on my last visit, I did it. It’s a very special place (with prices to match) but I had cause for celebration – it was publication day for The Collaborator’s Daughter, my novel set in the city.

I had visited Restaurant 360 before, but only through the pages of The Olive Grove. Where else would wealthy businessman Josip Beros take Damir to impress him?

‘The design of the place alone took Damir’s breath away, the cubed rattan furniture in turquoise and grey in the lower courtyard contrasting in both colour and style with the honeyed stone of the old fort into which it was built.’

It is, indeed a stunning location, and in the summer open air tables grace the tops of the walls giving stunning views of the harbour, but on a breezy evening right at the beginning of April I was pleased we would be eating inside.

Everything about Restaurant 360 is precise, except for the service which is as friendly as it is knowledgeable about the food and wine they serve. As well as a la carte choices, there are two tasting menus; Antalogica, which showcases the chef’s latest signature dishes, and Republika, a modern take on heritage dishes from the time of Dubrovnik’s Ragusa republic.

We were delighted when the sommelier was able to match a different Croatian wine with each course. Croatian wines are hugely underrated (and my husband knows a thing or two about wine, having worked in the industry) and we were able to enjoy a selection of the best with our meal. We were especially impressed with a Grk from Lumbarda on Korcula. All the more delicious to me because that’s where The Olive Grove is set.

All the food was wonderful, but it was with fish that Restaurant 360 excelled. We do sometimes treat ourselves to Michelin starred food, and some of the dishes bettered anything we have eaten. Anywhere. The absolute star of the show was what sounded an unlikely combination of smoked eel, foie gras, melon, and date cream. The man who thought that one up, and then delivered it, is some sort of genius.

A great deal of time goes into perfecting the dishes. Our waiter told us that the ‘fish soup’ accompanying the brodet (a very traditional Croatian dish) of grouper and clams had gone through almost forty iterations before it was deemed worthy of serving. And I would imagine it was the same with everything else; the sea bass with leek and langoustine was one of the most amazing things I have ever tasted. And the scallop tartar with kohlrabi and yuzu gel was as delightful as it was refreshing.

Great care was taken with my gluten free diet and I felt very safe all evening. The bread was delicious and plentiful, accompanied by a colourful array of butters, and where a dish could not be adapted, (as with one of the amuse bouche) the chef made something specially for me. Nothing was too much trouble for kitchen or staff, which made dining at 360 a wonderful experience.

I couldn’t resist taking a copy of The Olive Grove with me, and gave it to our fabulous sommelier when we left. He was delighted to hear it was set on Korcula, where he and his wife had honeymooned. It seemed such a small thank you for a night we will never forget.

Spotlight on Priest and Poet Ian Tattum

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I have long been a fan of writer Ian Tattum. Ian is incredibly intelligent and a keen observer. Ian’s poems have been published in a number of magazines and it’s easy to see why. Ian’s talent is outstanding and his poems stay with you for a long time after you have read them. I cannot recommend his poems enough, nor insist enough that you keep an eye out for what he does in the future.

It was hard to find just three poems to publish here. I loved them all. One such line ‘for a bruised heart will kill first what others love’ had a huge impact on me. Ian’s poems are full of truth and beauty. He is a fantastic nature writer and a wonderful person. May we may have more like him. Now. Thank you.

Ian Tattum, poet, priest, nature, writer

Nativity

I didn’t croak, I cried.
Long armed and long legged,
and long breathed.
It was not an amphibious belch,
but a human yell
as I left my pond for the world.
And my arrival wasn’t
a leap but a tumble.
I was not smooth and green,
but red and wrinkled.
My mother objected when my father said, ‘he looks like a frog’, but looking closer she saw his point, and kept her silence.

For my mother
JOAN TATTUM

Landlocked at Olney

The Ouse lives up to its name,
slowly winding through a gentle valley.
Overlooked by the modest high point of Clifton Reynes,
and windmills that march without moving.
It floods less now, hardly a boot covering but
wild swimming still provides the odd drowning.
A snaking mirror of the sky and trees,
of barely rippled blues, greys and greens.
Where a damselfly’s stained-glass wing or a sudden kingfisher
can arrest your attention without troubling it.
A place for a closer walk with God,
where the breeze curtains out the traffic
as it did for Cowper the noise of industry and cart.
But the river leads to the sea,
one hundred and forty-three miles east.
To a place where the water and the sands move,
footing is unsure, and the tides are wilful.

Attic Verses. Cowboys and Indians

I rarely felt the cold in those days before central heating,
when the coal fireplace in the front room was only lit
for necessity and the kitchen harboured the hypnotic
skin-searing paraffin stove.
When my bedroom was icy my mind was warmed by travel.
I knelt on the carpet moving my soldiers across prairies,
and over rivers and hiding them in clefts in the rock.
Some would take refuge in a cardboard stockade,
while others whooped from plastic horses,
in circling menace.
In TV Western Land even when it snowed
it was always temperate.
There were countless deaths, but no one ever died.
Until my brother, proving how wrong Wilde was,
instituted an irreparable massacre by beheading;
for a bruised heart will kill first what others love.

Ian Tattum is a priest in the Church of England, who writes mainly about nature, local history literature- including a recent essay for Little Toller’s ‘The Clearing’. His poetry has previously been published by Spelt Magazine , The Pilgrim and Black Bough Poetry. He is a Fellow of the Linnaean Society. https://stbarnabas-southfields.org.uk/essays-and-
reviews/
Follow Ian on Twitter at @ITattum.

JANE CABLE ON THE BENEFITS OF A WRITING ESCAPE TO THE SUN

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I have just returned from a third fabulous week of writing led by one of my favourite authors, Rosanna Ley, in one of my favourite places, Finca el Cerrillo in the mountains north of Malaga. My first was in February 2020 then, courtesy of Covid there was a gap before I returned in March 2022 and again this year.

So why do I keep going back? And if you are looking for a writing retreat, or writing holiday, as Rosanna calls them, what might help you to decide which one to choose?

The first year I went my objectives were quite broad; I had a contract with a small publisher but was desperate to break into the mainstream, so I wanted to hone my skills, find inspiration for ‘the book with the hook’, and pick Rosanna’s brains about where my writing career might take me.

On every level, the retreat worked for me. Every morning, after a hearty breakfast and an optional walk through the finca’s olive grove, we met in the light and airy classroom for a themed session aimed to both inspire us and improve our skills. There were people at every stage of their career and Rosanna managed the sessions cleverly so we all got something out of it. Topics ranged from beginnings and endings, to writing dialogue, and short stories so there is plenty to get your teeth into, whether you are writing a novel or not.

After that, the day is your own to write, relax, or chat to other participants. One-to-one sessions with Rosanna are offered, including feedback on your writing, which is always detailed and incredibly valuable. Everyone meets in the dining room or on the terrace for lunch, and part of the whole joy of the week is making connections with other writers. In fact, simply having time to be a writer, with no distractions, was a revelation in itself.

Towards the end of the afternoon is a feedback session where we could read a piece of our work for comment by the group. I had never done this before but soon lost my fear as the other participants were so constructive and helpful.

A couple of evenings we had dinner at a local village, but otherwise ate at the finca, where the food is excellent. There is always some sort of entertainment; a quiz night, group singing, dancing, party games… and on the last night the finca tradition of desert island discs, where we have to guess who from the group chose a particular song.

All of this goes to form strong bonds, and after my first retreat, when we were plunged into lockdown so soon afterwards, we kept in touch via Zoom. This year we have a WhatsApp group instead. Time marches on.

Rosanna is very flexible in her approach, and this year arranged things so that those of us who wanted to focus on a particular project could leave the morning sessions early, and as a result my wordcount went through the roof. I was bashing out the first draft of my summer 2024 Eva Glyn novel and when I wasn’t at my laptop took invigorating and mentally stimulating walks around the olive grove between scenes, or when I needed to unknot a thorny problem.

Because of the way the week is structured it is quite genuinely suitable for everyone from absolute novice writers to published authors. And Finca el Cerrillo is a little piece of heaven on earth. At the time of writing Rosanna has a place or two left on this June’s retreat, and is taking expressions of interest for next year. I hope to see you there!

For more information, visit Rosanna’s website: https://rosannaley.com/writing-retreats-events

Her Sweet Revenge by Sarah Bonner

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Her Sweet Revenge is another stunning thriller from Sarah Bonner. It’s ambitious, covering four years and numerous POVs but that makes me love it more. The relationship between the different characters (the mother-in-law and her daughter-in-law, the female friendship) is all done so well. You’re not quite sure who or what to believe until the very end. It made me feel so many emotions.
It’s a great read and I couldn’t wait to find out what happened. I finished it in 24 hours. Sarah Bonner is a formidable talent and this is another triumph,

Secrets and lies ruin lives

Two women receive the same anonymous note.
For one it’s a threat.
For the other it’s an invitation for revenge.

Helena is beautiful, successful and living in married bliss in Exeter. But she’s hiding a secret that could tear her perfect life apart. When the notes begin to arrive, she realises someone else must know. But what might her husband and his overbearing family do if they find out the truth?

Thea is reeling from her best friend Helena’s death. But when she starts digging into the circumstances, she receives a threatening note warning her to stop. She knows her friend’s death wasn’t an accident. This was murder. And she is determined to get revenge. And everyone knows, it’s almost always the husband . . .

Her Sweet Revenge is available here.