At the risk of 'bugging the life out of people' (see Nicola Morgan's recent ABBA Post of the 24th below), I've got a new book coming out next week. February 2nd, in fact, and I'm going to mention it because having a book published is one of those things that doesn't happen all that often to me, although with so many books published it is obviously happening all the time to other people, who then bleet and tweet about it, to Nicola's annoyance. I suppose that's part of the problem. In her perceptive way has put her finger one of the profound contradictions of social networking, and publishing for that matter. To an individual author, a book being published is A Very Big Thing; to everyone else, it's another 'so what?'. Cursory glance only before we go on to our own tweet, Facebook page entry, blog or planning our Virtual Launch.
At the risk of bugging, I anticipate publication of This Is Not Forgiveness with the usual mix of feelings: pride and a sense of wonder that my name is on the cover, but also complex feelings of nostalgia and loss. When I turn the pages, it is like looking through a strange kind of diary. I remember where I was when I thought that, wrote that, added that detail. It happens over a summer and I wrote it over a summer, so the weather, the descriptions, are like snapshots of particular places at a particular time. And there is something perfect about a book that is about to be published, before it goes out into the world to be the object of scrutiny and criticism, before it has a chance to fail.
I have another reason for nostalgia. This Is Not Forgiveness is a topical thriller set in the present and this is seen as a bit of a departure for me. I'm now known mostly for writing historical fiction. If not those books, then the old Point Horror Unleashed titles - Blood Sinister and The Vanished. But my first book was a contemporary thriller for teenagers. Every Step You Take. It was published in 1993. So long ago, that when I went to get the rights back from the publisher, they claimed never to have heard of it. That, too, was a contemporary thriller, so in a way, I've come full circle, returning to my roots.
That book was published into a different world. I'm typing this blog on a laptop, it is going straight by WiFi onto the 'net. I'm uploading pictures to go with it. I typed Every Step on an electric typewriter. Laptop, WiFi, 'net, upload? Terms not coined yet. I sent it off as a paper manuscript by Special Delivery, posted at the local Post Office (now a cake shop) not by attachment as I would do now.
The Internet was in its infancy, so no e mails. Publishers sent you letters. All you had to do was open the envelope, read and file. Everyone sent you letters, so it was easy to keep track of things. No matter how hard I try to be organised, finding things in e mails is like sifting though spaghetti. As for publicity, it didn't take up any time at all because there wasn't any. My first school visit came randomly from a librarian wh
by Addy Farmer
You know how it is. The Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry rings you up (again) and says please can you come and do your spellbinding session on muggle stories.
They'll pay a hefty 1000 galleons, a complimentary set of Gryffindor robes and as many packets of Hob Nobs as a house elf can carry.
No?
Well, maybe you arrive un-noticed at a school and find that you're
I'm not superstitious. I walk under ladders, I stroke black cats when they cross my path. No, I'm not superstitious except when it comes to my writing. I carry amulets, I get very upset if they disappear. I don't tempt fate with loose talk about what I'm doing and I believe in serendipity. I have this in common with my friend, Linda Newbery. Her book,
Lob, is on the Guardian children's fiction prize longlist, and richly deserves its place. She explains in an interview: Following the Walking Man, guardian.co.uk 9th August, 2010, how this book was inspired by seeing a man walking the roads between her home in Northampton and Oxford where she was working. He appeared at different points in the book's life: on the day she proposed the idea to her editor, the day after she handed in her typescript, her last sighting of him was at a bus stop in London. She called him Lob. I remember talking to her about this before the book was published and telling her that I used to see the same man, or one of his tribe, walking the main road between Birmingham and Coventry. I said I'd look out for him. Linda keeps a look out, too. She carries a signed copy in the glove compartment of her car, ready to give to him when she sees him again.
I have to report a sighting. The day after I read her interview I saw him walking up Putney High Street, swathed about with bags of different sorts, pushing a trolley, making his way between the shoppers and the buggies. Putney High Street was the old road to Portsmouth and that was the way he was heading, out of the bustle of the town, up onto the ancient heath. I hope it's a good sign for Linda.
I have my own examples, which is why I could identify so closely with Linda and her walking man. My latest novel,
The Fool's Girl, was inspired by Shakespeare's play,
Twelfth Night, and has Feste as a character, the Fool of the title, The first time I had to talk about the book in public, in Cambridge on a warm spring day, I saw this street performer on the way to the venue. My own serendipity. I can't pass a street performer now without giving him or her some money. Feste would never forgive me.
I'm hoping that serendipity is still working for me. On the day I was thinking about writing this blog, I went to the library and on the notice board there, I saw a flyer for something that was a clear message about the book that I plan to write next. I'm not going to say what it is, because that would be tempting fate.
In my last post I wrote about some literary coincidences. However, I forgot to mention the strangest one that ever happened to me – an omission I intend to make good now. There is no moral to this story, but it still makes me blink whenever I think what the chances are of this happening.
After my father Thomas died a few years I started going through his papers: writers are nosy like that. Amongst them was a small book, Nearly a Hundred Years Ago, written by his great aunt, Annie Robina Butler. Annie Robina was a children’s writer, and founder of the Children’s Medical Mission, with many titles such as Little Kathleen, or Sunny Memories of a Child-Worker (1890) to her name. This book, though, was a privately printed memoir of her own father, also Thomas, who at the time she wrote it in 1907 had just died, in his nineties. As a young man Thomas had lived at 6 Cheyne Walk in Chelsea, where his father and grandfather had run a classical school (Isambard Kingdom Brunel had been amongst the pupils). That was where Annie had spent her childhood too, until the age of 13, and her book had plentiful details of what it was like to grow up in the house’s lofty, oak-panelled splendour in the 1840s and '50s.
Annie Robina’s book was a fascinating find for me, of course, full of family information, paintings and photographs, and strange excursions. But the truly weird part of this story comes a few weeks later. I was at a lunch for Scattered Authors, and found myself sitting next to Linda Newbery. We chatted, and she told me about a set of books she was writing with Adele Geras and Ann Turnbull, known as the Historical House series. All the stories were to be set in the same London house at different periods of history – each with a young girl as the main character. “Where exactly in London is the house going to be?” I asked her. She told me it was to be in Chelsea, and that although they’d made up a street name, Chelsea Walk, it was very firmly based on Cheyne Walk. The hairs on my neck started to prickle. “Do you happen to remember the house number?”
Of course, it was number 6 – the same house my family had occupied from around 1783 to 1854, and which Annie Robina had described in the memoir I’d just read.
What are the chances?
Naturally I wanted to know if any of the Historical House books were set at the time my family had lived there. I got pretty close: Adele Geras’s Lizzie’s Wish was set in 1857, just three years after the Butlers had left. (In real life, Thomas Butler had sold the house to the Chapel Royal Choir School.) Lizzie’s Wish is an engaging story, which tells of young Lizzie Frazer’s time in the rather grand and formal house of her London relatives, where she offsets loneliness by nursing a wish to plant a walnut tree from her country home. Lizzie and Annie Robina would, in fact, have been almost the same age.
It was fascinating, laying the childhoods of the fictional Lizzie and the real-life Annie side by side. Their lives were very different, even if they lived in the same house at more or less the same time. In the fictional 1850s lonely Lizzie longs to stand on the Chelsea Embankment and watch the shipping. In Annie’s real-life childhood there was no Embankment yet. When the Thames flooded, as it occasionally did, she and the other children reacted with “extreme delight”, and “ran on improvised bridges and sailed their paper boats down the long passages, and fancied themselves in Venice.” (“But Annie Robina,” I cry, “the Thames in your period is a running sewer! Have you no fear of the cholera?” Alas, the miasma theory of cholera transmission is still in vogue, and no one is listening.) In the fictional 6 Chelsea Walk, the ambition of one of Lizzie’s cousins to become a nurse á la Florence Nightingale is at first squished by her class-conscious grandmother. In the real 6 Cheyne Walk Annie’s sister became a medical missionary, dying in Kashmir, and was regarded by her family virtually as a martyr. In the fictional 1850s, Lizzie’s longing to plant her tree is discouraged by her snobbish cousin, who says that London people prefer their flowers in paintings, samplers and vases. In reality, when the classical school failed in the 1820s Thomas Butler and his brother turned the school playground into a lush garden, which was the delight of Annie’s generation. The soil was poor, she admits, and she spent much of her time digging up bricks from the demolished baths of Dr Dominicetti, a hydropath who’d owned the house in the eighteenth century;* but she’s as lyrical as any fictional heroine when she remembers the “hedges of cabbage roses and thicket of many-tinted lilacs”, the wallflower that “sowed itself in the mellow brickwork boundaries, and stonecrop that ran over the wall”, the “jessamine, southernwood, and lavender that breathed their sweetness through the walks.” Immense sunflowers and peonies, double dahlias, Aaron’s rod, giant rhubarb and cat’s head apple trees were amongst the other treasures there.
In general, and with the significant exception of religion (but that’s another story), Victorian reality seems to have been a good deal more unbuttoned and informal, and altogether less – how shall I put it? - Victorian than Victorian fiction, at least in this case. Perhaps there is a moral there, after all?
But – 6 Cheyne Walk, 6 Chelsea Walk. Mirror worlds of fact and fiction. I ask again – what are the chances?
* Dr Dominicetti was scoffed at by Samuel Johnson, but I think he was ahead of his time. How much would you pay for a weekend at a place like this today? “On the right side of the garden, and communicating with the house, was erected an elegant brick building, a hundred feet long, and sixteen wide; in which were the baths and fumigating stones; adjoining to which were four sweating bed-chambers, to be directed to any degree of heat, and the water of the bath, and vaporous effluvia of the stove impregnated with such herbs and plants as might be most efficacious to the case.” An Historical and Topographical Description of Chelsea and Its Environs, Thomas Faulkner, 1810.
I first heard about Linda Newbery's At the Firefly Gate
from Kelly over at Big A, little a and it sounded just the sort of book I'd enjoy.
Young Henry and his parents have just moved from London to a small village in Suffolk, and Henry, who is just about to move up from primary school, is worried that he won't make any friends and that he will be bored after his life in the big city. The first night that he spends in his new room, Henry sees glowing fireflies around a gate at the end of the garden that leads out into an orchard, and a shadowy figure who stands there looking at him. Henry meets his neighbours, the sulky teenager Grace, her parents, and her spinster aunt Dottie who is ill. Dottie seems to recognise Henry and he finds himself dreaming and experiencing things that are the memories of an RAF navigator who was killed in World War II and who was Dottie's fiance.
This book is a lovely combination of WW2 history, Henry's dreams and the struggles of childhood. Henry is a down-to-earth boy who experiences amazing things. Grace is an equally well-drawn character who is usually sulky but has a soft side that she rarely shows, especially to Henry. Dottie is a wonderful character who made me want to enter her garden and spend some time playing Scrabble with her and listening to her stories.
At the Firefly Gate is also available from Amazon.com
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This month's Wicked Cool Overlooked Book is At the Firefly Gate, by Linda Newbery. This one hasn't been completely overlooked: Tasha reviewed it at Kids Lit, Gina Ruiz reviewed it for Blog Critics (and, first, at AmoxCalli), and I reviewed it here.
But, to date, At the Firefly Gate is my favorite Middle Grade title of the year and I'm surprised it hasn't garnered the attention that, say, The Book Thief or Kiki Strike did last year. And that's because At the Firefly Gate is a quieter, less showy title. But, At the Firefly Gate is one of those books that remind you why you read in the first place. Part ghost story, part historical fiction, At the Firefly Gate enthralls to the very end.
Thanks to Colleen at Chasing Ray for setting aside the first Monday of every month for Wicked Cool Overlooked Books.
At the Firefly Gate
Author: Linda Newbery
Publisher: David Fickling Books
ISBN-10: 0385751133
ISBN-13: 978-0385751131
At the Firefly Gate is a lovely story of friendship, love, loss and simple courage. Henry and his parents move to a quiet Suffolk village near an old World War II airfield. Henry is upset about the move and misses his friends in the city very much. He has the usual dread of a new school, making new friends, getting made fun of. Henry is a small child and very shy. On his first night in his new home, he looks out the window and sees a man smoking at the gate with sparkling lights around him. This frightens Henry and adds to his feeling that he shouldn’t be living there.
As the days pass, Henry makes friends with the neighbor’s old aunt Dottie. Henry reminds Dottie of her fiancé (also named Henry), an RAF navigator who disappeared in the war. Henry and Dottie seem to have a deep bond while Dottie’s great niece lives to torment him.
Things start to get really interesting when Henry starts hearing the sound of WW2 planes flying overhead at night. Henry gets the feeling of being in someone else’s body and he starts to see visions of another time. He dreams of a life as an RAF navigator and starts to believe there’s a ghost out there that needs him to do something. He sees the guy from his gate as a young air force pilot talking to a girl at a restaurant. Henry begins to investigate the time by asking old-timers.
The book is well-written and tells it’s tale with a quiet and gentle force. The book almost reads as if it were written in the era Henry dreams about which was a pleasant surprise. There’s modern touches well that depict Henry’s present day life like the flight simulation game he plays that shows him more of RAF Henry’s mystery. The descriptions of the Suffolk town where Henry lives in are just wonderful. You feel you're there.
I love the courage Henry shows, the friendship and the kindness he shows to an elderly and dying woman. The book is so quietly emotional and real that you will find it moves you profoundly.
Set in Stone
Author: Linda Newbery
Publisher: David Fickling Books
ISBN-10: 0385751028
ISBN-13: 978-0385751025
Recommended for grades 8- up
Set in Stone is a very mysterious, very creepy and very thrilling modern day take on the Victorian Gothic novel. Set in a beautiful mansion in very rural England, the story begins with a young artist arriving late, walking through a lonely wood and getting to his destination only to find a young girl running out in the dark hysterically ranting about the North wind. Exciting, yes?
The artist is Samuel Godwin, hired by the owner of the mansion called Four Winds to teach his daughters Juliana and the wild Marianne. It was the beauteous Marianne whom he found the night of his arrival.
Samuel quickly becomes entrenched in the family. He feels nothing but the highest admiration for Ernest Farrow, his employer who’s appreciation for the most beautiful art appeals to Samuel’s own artistic nature. He grows fond of the girls and their plain governess Charlotte but soon becomes quite obsessed with Marianne.
He finds out soon enough that everything is not what it seems and that the house has its share of dark secrets of the nastiest sort.
The book is narrated alternately by both Charlotte and Samuel and is done in such as way as to build the mystery while providing more and more clues. The story gets darker and darker, revealing a web of deceit, lies, suicide, incest, cover ups, a secret baby and murder.
Set in Stone is a thrilling and unconventional story that is completely gripping. I couldn’t put it down.
Sometimes good things really do come in small packages. Linda Newbery's At the Firefly Gate is a gem of a 152-page novel for the Middle Grade reader.
At the Firefly Gate weaves together two stories set some fifty years apart with the help of one ghost, some visions, and an elderly neighbor. The contemporary story begins when sixth-form student, Henry, moves from London to Suffolk: "3, Church Cottages, Crickford St. Thomas, Suffolk, was the sort of address Henry's mum had always wanted."
Henry doesn't share this dream, however, and to add insult to injury his parents moved before the last week of school. To help him make friends over the summer, they force Henry to spend time with his prickly next door neighbor, Grace. Grace is a year older than Henry and wants little to do with him. Fortunately, her great aunt Dottie takes an instant liking to Henry and makes him feel at home.
On his first evening in Suffolk, Henry catches sight of a man standing by the gate at the end of Henry's garden, staring up at him. The man is smoking and surrounded by fireflies. Soon Henry is dreaming from the point of view of this man, the dreams taking him back fifty years to a war-time food stand and a pretty girl with bright blue eyes.
Newbery brings the present and past together beautifully in At the Firefly Gate. The ghost story never seems contrived--the present and past overlap neatly in Henry's new village life. I also appreciated that Henry, albeit momentarily freaked out by the changes in his life, is more curious than frightened by his glimpse into the past. Henry takes his challenges as they come, be they real world (Grace, new school, new friends) or ghostly.
Linda Newbery is an exceptional writer. My mother reviewed her recent YA novel, Set in Stone, and compared her to Austen. I can see now that mom was not exaggerating. At the Firefly Gate is a stunner--a book I'll be pushing on everyone I know older than eight years old.
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I received this book from the publisher.
This review was written by Alice Herold
Set in Stone by Linda Newbery was so well written I felt I was reading one of Jane Austen's classic novels. (This story is set in 1898.) About half way through the novel, I redefined the writing as Jane Austen's with an EDGE, as Set in Stone features themes of incest and hints of a homosexual relationship. Because of the mature themes, this book is for older teens and young adults.
Secrets, lies, deception, mysteries! Everyone has a secret! Even the house, Four Winds, has a mystery. Why does the house have sculptures of three winds? Where is the sculpture of the West Wind? Why does its disappearance make Marianne, one of the daughters, fearful?
Marianne - Why does she appear to be sleepwalking at night? She must be closely watched by her governess, Charlotte Agnew, at all times.
Charlotte Agnew - Why does she hide the truth about her background from Juliana, another of the daughters?
Juliana Farrow - Why doesn't she want to be romantically involved with Samuel Godwin even though her father hired him with this in mind?
Samuel Godwin - Why does he despise his employer, Mr. Farrow?
Mr. Farrow - Why did he make the sculptor, Gideon Waring, leave the house in disgrace?
This book, written by a gifted writer, is a page turner! You won't be able to put it down.
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Editorial note: Linda Newbery won this year's Costa Children's Book Award for Set in Stone.
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Thanks, Addy. And that's more books to add to an already impossibly long list! My favourite is still the last line in 'Little Boy Lost' by Marghanita Laski, but I can't say it here as it would give the story away. It has me blubbing every time. I even stole the name of that character for one of my own stories as an homage to the book but it didn't get picked up. (Still might
This post began with a conversation between Addy and me about a moment in Millions by Frank Cottrell Boyce that takes you emotionally by surprise. Addy said, I can do a post on that! And she did - in the most inclusive way! Thanks, Addy! Notes from the Slushpile really feels like a lovely community with this post! Such a blubworthy list!<br /><br />... er but what happened to Millions?
Re Grandfather's Bench - was this the grandfather married to <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UkBnHri8oHE" rel="nofollow">fighter pilot gran</a>?
Aw - thanks, Clare. I will have to read it!
I've lost Millions! I love Millions! Shame but now an excuse for a future blog for all those lost words.
Ha! No! This grandfather was more Private Peaceful!
Made me cry - a lot. <br />I can't read The Selfish Giant (Oscar Wilde) or the moment in The Children of Green Knowe ( L.M.Boston) where Tolly & his great grandmother hear 'Lully lullay' on Christmas Eve " and four hundred years ago, a baby went to sleep."<br />Thanks hive mind.
Oh, that's lovely, I'd forgotten Green KNowe - there is soooooo much beautiful writing.
Ridiculous to blub just at these tiny fragments, isn't it? But lovely too. Beautiful selection, Addy. I just finished A MONSTER CALLS and was beside myself with grief and wonder. "I don't want you to go." *lays head on table and sobs self stupid*
Oh I KNOW!
I've cried more at that book than any other!
I have two book moments. The first has taken a bit of finding, it's Mrs Weasley. She's trying to get rid of a boggart from a wardrobe but it keeps turning into her dead children - 'I see them d-d-dead all the time!' Mrs Weasley moaned into his shoulder. 'All the time! I d-d-dream about it.' It was a great way to show the seriousness of the fight against evil has real