Cuckoo in The Nest:   Fran Hill.     

Narrated by fourteen-year-old Jackie, Cuckoo in the Nest is the story of Jackie, an aspiring poet who is wiser beyond her years. She’s had to be since her mum died and her father slid into alcoholism alternating between violence and helplessness. Jackie has kept the pair of them going but when the authorities eventually step in, she is fostered by Nick and Bridget Wall whose daughter Amanda does not welcome the newcomer.

 Set in Britain’s heatwave summer of 1976, there are plenty of cultural references including music for those of us who remember this era, and setting the scene for those who don’t. (Gammon slices with pineapple sauce, anyone? Or a drive in a mustard-coloured Ford Escort?)

As Jackie negotiates her new situation, she is aware that her foster parents also have to find their way with the arrangement as much as she does herself. Amanda does too but without any consideration towards Jackie or, indeed, her parents.

Jackie gets through the days guarding her emotions carefully, but we see small snippets of her pain and vulnerability – always understated but saying so much. ‘It was about finding Carolines or perhaps Janes or Marions with my dad and wearing my mother’s silk dressing gown.’   

As the story unfolds, we see that Bridget is hanging onto her middle-class aspirations by her fingernails. How does she negotiate the minefield of a resentful teenager and the proverbial cuckoo in the nest when things go awry?

Jackie narrates her story with sardonic humour although occasionally I found this a little too adult for even a bright and precocious fourteen-year-old. However, it didn’t mar my enjoyment of reading.

This story is fiction but Cuckoo in The Nest is informed by the author’s own experience of living with a foster family, giving it authenticity and allowing the reader insights into the experiences of children in the care system and perhaps breaking down preconceived ideas about children in care.   

My First Post in Ages

St Kilda

I've just passed my fourth anniversary of my move to Australia so thought I should update this blog. I haven't been posting because there hasn't been a great deal of writerly news. I've been busy but not achieving much to shout about.

Back in March I enjoyed presenting a talk about older women in fiction, or rather the lack of them, to a small group who tuned in on Zoom for my IWWGs Women's History Month event. I read one of my stories about Lorna aged 64 (which also features the pier in the picture) which went down well. I also raised the issue of how women of all ages have typically been missing from history books.

Older women are in novels, although they are massively under-represented - but it's how they're portrayed that interests me and often bothers me. Do we lump all 'older' women in one group like so many tick boxes on forms where there's one last box: 60+ - as if a 60 year old is the same as a 99 year old or a 109 year old. Many portrayals are somewhat negative. The film industry seems to have taken to older women, providing of course they are Botoxed, glamorous and extremely wealthy. They don't seem to have have aching joints like many real older women do, but tear around like teenagers which I find equally irritating. 

If you're interested in older women in fiction do check out BookWord that shows a variety of books with older women in them, although not all are positive portrayals.

Then there is the matter of older writers and especially older women getting published. Again, there has been some improvement lately and I welcomed the article published by The Guardian not long ago which you can read here. More recently of course is the good news of the competition from Jenny Brown Associates Literary agents for novelists over 50 here. It's open only to UK residents so I am not eligible but I'd have definitely submitted otherwise. I look forward to hearing the results.

What of my own writing this year? Not much, I'm afraid. I pitched my novel and did get a call for the first three chapters, synopsis etc but alas it got no further. 

I've had three small pieces published online including Much Time Has Passed and have been longlisted in a Brilliant Flash Fiction competition. 

There have been plenty of rejections as always. Some disappoint but most roll off the proverbial duck's back. They should as I've had enough since my first rejection in 2005. 

To date I've made 367 submissions to competitions, journals and magazines. 74 were accepted and published online or on paper plus 20 competition long-listings or short-listings. If I add those in to the success mix, my very poor mathematical skills make that around a 25% success rate or a 75% not success rate. 

I'll keep going though.

Every Family Has a Story

 

My story of my grandmother was included in this publication from Family History ACT. The 110 stories it contains are from those entered into their 2021 competition.

The book is full of fascinating narratives about ordinary - and sometimes extraordinary - people whose lives have not made headlines or been included in standard historical records but greatly add to our understanding of the past. 

I wrote my story as I believe such accounts are important to those who come after - so much gets lost through verbal retellings as I have mentioned on this blog before. 

There is no doubt that researching our ancestors' lives has been made much easier by the online websites such as Ancestry. One of my sisters did a great deal of research that has added to our family story, and has partially resolved one mystery. But as some  questions are answered, new questions arise.

My story.

Accessing some of the public family trees featuring various of my ancestors also shows that there are many mistakes made by other researchers, muddling names, dates and so on. Some errors have no doubt arisen because deciphering the handwritten records is difficult, others because of families tending to use the same forenames - sometimes a child born after a sibling has died was given the same name. The spelling by recording clerks was often inaccurate too. Family legend had it that my great-aunt was named Lilian Lucy Helen but the person who registered her birth was not very articulate and the clerk wrote Ellen instead of Helen. Records confirm this!

But research is fascinating and my own dabbling on sites such as Ancestry and Trove digitalised newspapers has given me some small gems which I've added to our family archive. It also pointed to more of my great-great-grandmother's family members emigrating to Australia in the nineteenth century than we previously knew about. I wish I knew their stories too.

Books I Enjoyed This Year

Book lists are ubiquitous but mine aren't lists of best-sellers - although one or two may feature. They aren't prize winning lists, although maybe a couple of titles are on those lists too. They aren't only books published this year, although some may be.  

This year I've read 77 books, most of which I've enjoyed. I select books not necessarily because I consider them to be the best written but because they're the ones I have most enjoyed reading. Those that have given me food for thought, pleasure, education and, in several cases, the delight of something refreshingly different. 

The books I've read this year have taken me to a number of different locations in the UK, USA and Australia plus Ireland, Sweden, Mustique, Guyana, Spain, Botswana, Zimbabwe, India, Crete, Hungary, Germany and New Zealand. I've been back and forward in time!

I couldn't decide on a Top Ten so it's a Top Twelve in no particular order.

Femlandia - Christina Dalcher. The author's third dystopian novel.  Like all in this genre, it is not so far-fetched as we might initially think. Thought provoking to say the least.

Still Life - Sarah Winman. I found this book of unlikely friendships compelling and delightful. It's also a love letter to the city of Florence.

Remember Me - Charity Norman. The story of a daughter and father and learning the truth of a twenty-five year old mystery. Sad and beautiful to read.

The Secrets of Elephants - Vasundra Tailor. A story of three generations of a family spanning two continents with courage at the story's heart. 

Dinner With the Schnabels - Toni Jordan. Funny but examining difficult issues with a few twists along the way.

 

Bila Yarrudhanggalangdhuray - Anita Heiss. An historical novel on displacement and the clash of cultures between Wiradjuri people and white settlers. 

Small Pleasures - Clare Chambers. Capturing the 50s beautifully, as well as the character of Jean who feel life has passed her by, the story revolves round a real article about parthenogenesis and a woman's belief that she had a virgin birth. 

The Crimson Thread - Kate Forsyth. A wartime novel focusing on bravery of locals and hidden soldiers during Nazi occupation of Crete.

The Giver of Stars - Jojo Moyes. Women of the packhorse library on East Kentucky in late 30s. Female friendship and resilience. 

The Dressmakers of Yarrandarrah Prison - Meredith Jaffe. Quirky and feelgood. 

Once Upon A Camino - Matthew S Wilson. Tom's pilgrimage on the Camino Santiago takes the reader on an adventure as surprising as Tom's.

After Story - Larissa Behrendt. After grief and trauma comes healing and understanding. Plus a literary tour of the UK and stories of one of the oldest story-telling cultures of the world.

Books by Friends

At the book chatters group at my local library, where we talk about and discuss books we have liked, or sometimes not liked, I mentioned that I'd recently enjoyed two books written by friends.

Then it struck me that I hadn't met either of them in person but only via the Internet. But writers groups are generally friendly places and are supportive of each other, enjoying each others' success so it feels as if members are, indeed, friends. 

The important things though are the books in question. The first was Matthew S. Wilson's Once Upon A Camino.

During the many Melbourne lockdowns during the first two years of Covid-19, writers came to together via Zoom courtesy of Writers Victoria and its host Noè Harsel twice a week. Participants wrote for 25 minutes. Some used Noè's prompts, others did their own thing. We didn't listen or critique each other's work but several of us would chat for a few minutes afterwards. 

Matthew joined on as many Tuesdays and Fridays as he could to complete his novel and get it published. 

I read it soon after it was published. I knew the protagonist, Tom, walked the Camino de Santiago, as Matthew had done some years before, and was doing it to prove his love for his girlfriend to her grandfather. I knew Tom lost his luggage at the beginning of the journey. What I didn't know was that my journey as a reader would be as unexpected as Tom found his walking adventure. I rate books by their un-put-down-ability and this was one I raced through to keep up with its narrative pace. Well worth the  read!

The second book wasn't entirely new to me as I had been a beta reader for Vasundra Tailor, a member of my former North London writing Group Greenacre Writers, although Vasundra joined after I had left. When I heard she was seeking readers for her manuscript set in India and Zimbabwe I couldn't resist as I love books set in different countries to my native UK.  

I thoroughly enjoyed reading the manuscript and felt she definitely had a novel worthy of publication. But we all know the path to that doesn't always run smoothly so I was delighted when she announced she had a publishing contract and later, Vasundra kindly sent me a copy. 

Reading The Secret of Elephants felt like meeting up with old friends. A family story spanning three generations and two countries, I enjoyed the re-read of this story of uncovering family secrets and finding courage. I'm thinking of suggesting a sequel!

Thank you writerly friends for giving me two highly enjoyable reads.

Follow the authors on Twitter:

Matthew S. Wilson @Matthew_SWilson  Once Upon A Camino

Vasundra Tailor @vasundrajay The Secret of Elephants

Mentone Public Library - the Story of a Tiny Library in Mentone

Tucked away in the Melbourne suburb of Mentone is a library.

When I arrived in Australia to live, my first priority was to buy a home and the second to join my nearest library. The previous year when staying with my daughter, I'd seen a sign to Mentone Library but couldn't locate it! I searched on the Kingston website and found plenty of libraries including those at nearby Cheltenham and Parkdale but no mention of Mentone. I guessed it had been closed like so many of the libraries in my native UK. My then local library in North London had been drastically reduced in size and hundreds of others in UK closed in spite of over-whelming public protest. 

But once settled (and now a holder of a Kingston Libraries card) a little more investigation found I was wrong. Mentone Library was alive and well, albeit by now sleeping during Covid lockdowns.

You won’t find it on the Kingston library website because it’s an independent public library.

On 14^th May 2022 it celebrated its 97^th birthday. In its newly painted interior, a number of us gathered around its brand-new tables amidst the bookshelves lining the walls and read aloud short pieces of our writing. Some were published authors, others still dabbling and some yet to commit to calling themselves a writer; all were made welcome. 

Established in 1925­ – making it the longest surviving community library in Melbourne’s City of Kingston – Mentone Library has always been staffed entirely by volunteers. Not only lending books, the library’s mission is to encourage literary discussion, promote local authors and community events. Current plans include establishing a writers’ centre.

I learned about its history from the City of Kingston’s Local History website in an article by Grahame J Whitehead. Mentone had a library in 1890 consisting of three room in the Skating Rink with a selection of 300 books and newspapers. Later, the books transferred to an estate agency as the rink’s room closed in winter. Lack of council funding and support led the people of Mentone to set about raising funds to establish their own library building. To raise money, they held a garden fete to be opened by the governor of Victoria, Sir John Fuller. He spoke of the importance of education and reading but, he warned, there were also many books, the trashy shilling shockers, which if read, left the reader worse for having read them. He hoped the good people of Mentone would avoid such nonsense. In spite of their endeavours the library closed down in 1924. Perhaps because those good people read too many shilling shockers.

A few months later a group of twenty-five people met with the aim of establishing a new library and on May 6th 1925 a temporary library opened in the rooms of the Rifle Range in Brindisi Street. It boasted 120 subscribers who could borrow any of their 550 books.

After the first ten years 175,000 books had been exchanged, with the stock now numbering 4,500.

The library moved home to a room in the council chambers in 1955, a time when the establishment of a new free municipal public library was under discussion eventually resulting in the library at Parkdale. The Mentone library was struggling and once again moved home, this time to a large container in the recreation ground. Another couple of moves found the library eventually settling into a room to the rear of the Citizen’s Advice Bureau in Florence Street in 1997 which is still its home today and where I made my first visit.

Today the shelves are packed with around 3,500 books bought with library funds and grants from Kingston City council, a great supporter of the library, and donations from members and other benefactors. From its inception as the only library in the area almost a hundred years ago Mentone Library is now sandwiched between well-stocked free public libraries so this little library needed to rethink its position. The committee is repurposing it as a writers’ centre and in keeping with that aim, its library stock will focus on books about the locale, whether histories, memoirs or fiction as well as books by local authors.

The volunteers kept events going during pandemic lockdowns by transferring to Zoom and they took advantage of the library’s closure to smarten it up but it remains a delightful combination of old and new.

The volunteers continue to be its life support as it is they who enable the library to open to the public. Currently this is for a two-hour slot from Monday to Friday10.00am-12.00 noon. More volunteers are needed to help expand the opening hours.

You may join as a member for $10 a year simply by applying at the library or emailing and bank transfer. If you’d like to receive the newsletter, email your request.

The committee is planning further events including open mic events and the library space will be available for hire for writerly endeavours, whether a short course or for a writing group’s regular meeting.

For more information and upcoming events see:

https://www.facebook.com/MPLWritersCentre

https://mentonepubliclibrary.blogspot.com/

Email: mentonepubliclibrary@gmail.com

MPL is to be found at the rear of the Information Bureau, 36 Florence Street, Mentone, Vic 3194. Plenty of parking in the Coles carpark adjacent. Walkable from Mentone Station.

 

Examining the Past and Challenging the Future.

Perhaps the reason one of my A' Levels was a grade too low was because I went out dancing the night before. Or maybe I'd not revised enough. Whatever, it meant I wouldn't get my place on the prestigious librarianship course unless I re-did the A level or worked in a library for a year. I duly applied to the central library in Bristol and was granted an interview just after my 18th birthday in October. I was offered the post and asked when I could start. 'Could it be January?' I asked. The chief librarian looked horrified so I quickly explained that I was currently working in a children's home and really wanted to be there for Christmas.  'I think you are not very serious about this position,' replied the librarian frostily to which I agreed that no, perhaps I wasn't. And there ended my potential career. 

Instead I went on to qualify as a Residential Child Care Officer which later led me to becoming a speech and language therapist. My choice on that day was something I've never regretted. And Christmas at the children's home was wonderful. I still have the card that 6 year-old Fred drew for me. A bright pink panther (Fred's favourite cartoon) with a speech bubble announcing 'Happy Chrismas from the Pink Panter' [sic] 

Since those far off days there has been a huge re-examining of children's homes in the recent past, many of which were full of abuse and did little or nothing to protect the children in their care. I trust none of those I worked in were guilty (I certainly never witnessed nor suspected any such behaviour.) I've always believed that abusing a position of trust is one of the worst crimes we can commit against fellow humans. I have happy memories of the children who were in my care but I've often wondered whether their memories are as positive. I hope some of their recollections are but making stable relationships with carers was always going to be hard as they were subjected to a series of people, however good, passing through their lives. And did we address all the needs and the concerns of the children on the matter of their identities? And how well prepared were those entering their adult years? Years on, with greater wisdom, I see there may well have been failures.

Like many people I've noticed how often the killer, especially serial killers, in books or TV programmes and films are orphans. (In reality relatively few children in care are orphans.) I'd assumed this wasn't so much that the writers believed orphans are evil, but that they couldn't be bothered to think up suitable reasons for why a child turns into an adult killer. If there is no family, parents or siblings, no-one needs to be held accountable for perhaps contributing in some way to those crimes. No backstory needs to be written - just some unnamed children's home. But much as I was aware of the unfairness of these portrayals, I didn't consider what that was like for people who are care-experienced. Josie Pearse writes a much more carefully considered article here.

When Rosie Canning - fellow founder of Greenacre Writers and The Finchley Literary Festival - began working on an examination of representations of care-experienced people in literature, partly to address  and challenge this issue, I suspect she didn't then realise how this theme would blossom into a number of other projects such as the UK/Australian Care Experience and Culture with Dr Dee Michell. 

Their recent online book club featuring representations of care in literature includes memoir and novels.

Sarah Hilary joined the first discussion with her book Fragile, a modern gothic novel telling the stories of two young people who were in the care system and their foster mother. 

The second event's speakers were Susan Francis from Australia and Anne Harrison from UK. I was already following Susan on Twitter but hadn't, at that point, read her book The Love That Remains. Anne Harrison and her memoir, Call Me Auntie, was at the time unknown to me. 

Both spoke so eloquently about their memoirs and the search for their birth parents, I knew I wanted to read them both. I had been lucky enough to win a copy of Call Me Auntie from the book club which was winging its way towards me, and I quickly ordered a copy of The Love That Remains which I dived into immediately I received it. 

The books are very different but have a great deal in common. At the core of each is the writer's need to know their identity. The 'Where did I come from?' Both authors, one adopted, and one initially fostered and then living in children's homes, set out to search for their roots. They search for their birth mothers to learn about their identity and in the hope of forging a relationship of some sort. Both find answers to some of their questions but many are left unanswered.

Both books are well written and enable to reader to follow the narratives easily. Anne Harrison's Call Me Auntie is a factual account; much of her early history is related using documents from her care file which was made available to her quite recently. This is not a 'misery lit' account by any means but some was hard to read. The treatment of the children in one care home was emotionally and physically abusive which made me feel very angry and the scenes with her birth mother filled me with sadness and dismay. 

Susan Francis's The Love That Remains tells of her need to discover the truth about her parents. Even though she was happily adopted, her unknown roots left her with insecurities. Here too, many scenes make for emotional reading. But Susan's need to search for the truth about the past doesn't stop with her birth parents. She discovers another awful secret which needs verification, and to be understood and accepted.

Ultimately, both books are journeys of courage and discovery and yet more courage. 

To follow these authors on Twitter:

Susan Francis @susanfranciswr1 

Anne Harrison @anne4harrison