The winner of the Dylan Thomas Prize – which is for international young writers – will be announced today. So keep an eye on Twitter for the winner.
Launched in 2006, the annual Swansea University Dylan Thomas Prize is one of the most prestigious awards for young writers, aimed at encouraging raw creative talent worldwide. It celebrates and nurtures international literary excellence. Worth £20,000, it is one of the UK’s most prestigious literary prizes as well as one of the world’s largest literary prizes for young writers. Awarded for the best published literary work in the English language, written by an author aged 39 or under, the Prize celebrates the international world of fiction in all its forms including poetry, novels, short stories and drama. The prize is named after the Swansea-born writer, Dylan Thomas, and celebrates his 39 years of creativity and productivity. One of the most influential, internationally-renowned writers of the mid-twentieth century, the prize invokes his memory to support the writers of today and nurture the talents of tomorrow.
I was kindly sent a copy of one of the shortlisted titles – The Death of Vivek Oji by Akwaeke Emezi to read and review and my thoughts are below. It arrived a bit later than planned due to a delivery mix up but better late than never!
What does it mean for a family to lose a child they never really knew?
One afternoon, in a town in southeastern Nigeria, a mother opens her front door to discover her son’s body, wrapped in colorful fabric, at her feet. What follows is the tumultuous, heart-wrenching story of one family’s struggle to understand a child whose spirit is both gentle and mysterious. Raised by a distant father and an understanding but overprotective mother, Vivek suffers disorienting blackouts, moments of disconnection between self and surroundings. As adolescence gives way to adulthood, Vivek finds solace in friendships with the warm, boisterous daughters of the Nigerwives, foreign-born women married to Nigerian men. But Vivek’s closest bond is with Osita, the worldly, high-spirited cousin whose teasing confidence masks a guarded private life. As their relationship deepens—and Osita struggles to understand Vivek’s escalating crisis—the mystery gives way to a heart-stopping act of violence in a moment of exhilarating freedom.
Propulsively readable, teeming with unforgettable characters, The Death of Vivek Oji is a novel of family and friendship that challenges expectations—a dramatic story of loss and transcendence that will move every reader.
My thoughts: this is beautiful and terribly, terribly sad, for several reasons.
From the title you know that someone dies, but the book is about how that someone, Vivek Oji, lived. It’s about his childhood, told through his cousin’s words and about his secrets, told through his friends. Vivek is only young when he dies, and his grief-stricken mother searches for answers – how did he die, who brought his body to the door of their house and left it there?
Slowly, as Vivek’s story unfolds, we learn about him, about who he really was, about the secrets he kept from all but his closest friends.
Beautifully written, moving and tragic, this is the story of one life, but it could be the story of so many, keeping parts of themselves hidden and secret, keeping love and truth buried, even as it causes them pain.
**some of the above text is taken from a press release about the shortlist but the review is entirely my own opinions and words**
Read my review of the author’s previous book Dark Corners
In this game it’s kill or be killed…
A stranger has you cornered. They call themselves The Host. You are forced to play their game. In it one person can live and the other must die.
You are the next player. You have a choice to make.This is a game where nobody wins…
A nerve-shredding cat-and-mouse serial killer thriller that will keep you guessing and reading into the night, perfect for fans of Adrian McKinty, John Marrs and Steve Cavanagh
My thoughts: trips to Peterborough are never going to be the same again, and neither are pipecleaners!
A motorbike helmet wearing man declares himself “The Host” in a series of horrific videos where he makes two people fight to the death while threatening their loved ones, but who is he and why is he doing this?
Inspired by the classic Trolley Problem and the idea of whether humans are always good, this is cold blooded and deeply chilling thriller. DI Karen Holt is suspended but that doesn’t stop her trying to catch the sinister figure instigating these terrible events, even when it puts her in the killer’s sights.
An interesting protagonist, Karen spots clues before some of her colleagues but she isn’t perfect or always able to save a life, which makes for a more realistic character. She is however perhaps too driven, after the case that led to her suspension, she’s willing to risk everything, from her career to her marriage, to her life, to solve this case fast, and she misses things because of that.
*I was kindly gifted a copy of this book in exchange for taking part in the blog tour but all opinions remain my own.
The doomed mutual attraction of a middle-aged widow and her new son-in-law, who is much closer to her own age than her daughter’s, forms the central drama in this social comedy with tragic overtones.
Joanna Malling lost her husband in the first year of their marriage. At the age of 21 she was left with a baby daughter to raise alone. Now twenty years later, Libby is herself a grown woman living in London, and Joanna buys a new home to begin the next stage of her life. But her solitary existence is about to be shattered when Libby announces she is engaged. And with a change of job for her new husband Steven, the newly married couple move in with Joanna. What starts as an uneasy relationship between Joanna and Steven develops into something much more intimate and reminds Joanna of all she has missed out on. With Libby growing suspicious, Joanna must make a heart-rending decision.
The author: Diana Tutton (1915–1991) was a British writer whose novels focused on taboo relationships and family dysfunctionality. In the Second World War she drove a WVS mobile canteen, before she followed her husband to Kenya and joined the FANYs. In 1948 the family moved to British Malaya where she wrote her three novels. Mamma was published in 1956.
My thoughts: I have enjoyed discovering new-to-me women writers through this British Library project (I also really like their Classic Crime series too) so was delighted to be asked to review Mamma.
You might think that the 1950s were very staid and writers never covered anything eyebrow raising or taboo, but you’d be wrong. Diana Tutton is proof of that. Her books were about some very shocking subjects, including incest, and this one is about a doomed and never acted upon romance between a woman and her daughter’s new husband.
Joanna is only 5 years older than Steven and resents the idea that she should just fade into widowhood, she’s not even comfortable with the idea that her daughter is old enough to get married at 20. Her frustrations about the roles society boxes women into are genuine and haven’t hugely changed since the 50s – Maiden, Mother, Crone is a trope from the Ancient World that persists.
This makes her see Steven, 15 years older than Libby, differently. She isn’t initially very keen on him and worries about the age gap between him and her daughter, the life experiences are so different. But Libby insists it doesn’t matter. And it isn’t until circumstances force them into sharing Joanna’s house that she realises her indifference is really something more.
I found this compelling and utterly fascinating, both for what it has to say about women and also the plot, which is slow burn and sneaks up on you. What seems like a gentle domestic tale is much more, but not apparent on first glance. I felt for Joanna, for the way she’s forced into roles and made to act like a woman much older, when at 41 she’s still fairly young and if she were around now would be seen quite differently.
*I was kindly gifted a copy of this book in exchange for taking part in the blog tour but all opinions remain my own.
Dark gods and dangerous magic clash in this third book of Gareth Hanrahan’s acclaimed epic fantasy series, The Black Iron Legacy. “This is genre-defying fantasy at its very best . . . Insanely inventive and deeply twisted” (Michael R. Fletcher).
Enter a city of dragons and darkness . . . The Godswar has come to Guerdon, dividing the city between three occupying powers. A fragile armistice holds back the gods, but other dangerous forces seek to exert their influence. Spar Idgeson, once heir to the brotherhood of thieves has been transformed into the living stone of the new city. But his powers are failing and the criminal dragons of the Ghierdana are circling.
Meanwhile, far across the sea, Carillon Thay—once a thief, a saint, a god killer; now alone and powerless—seeks the mysterious land of Khebesh, desperate to find a cure for Spar. But what hope does she have when even the gods seek vengeance against her?
“A groundbreaking and extraordinary novel . . . Hanrahan has an astonishing imagination” (Peter McLean).
My thoughts:
The third book in The Black Iron Legacy hits the ground running, with Cari on the way across the sea looking for a cure for Spar’s slow fading away. But her leaving Guerdon leaves the New City vulnerable to others.
The dragons of Ghierdana have set up shop, as part of the Lyrixian delegation occupying the city and are sinking their claws into the criminal underworld.
I was totally hooked from page one, this series has been one of my favourite of the crop of newer fantasy writers in the last few years. Intelligent fantasy, smart world building with engaging and personable characters. I was really engrossed in the story, Cari develops as a character even further, as she learns more about who and what she is.
The various plot lines start to coalesce as the book heads towards its conclusion, setting up further adventures to come in the next book, which I cannot wait to read.
A big thank you to Orbit Books for sending me a copy of this book.
When new mother Bridget catches her train home from London, she witnesses something terrible: a young girl is taken from the platform, right before her eyes.
No one knows where I am.
But no one is reported missing and with Bridget the only witness, she is written off as an attention seeker. Nobody believes her – not even her own husband.
Can you find me?
But Bridget knows what she saw, and becomes consumed with finding the little girl. Only she can save the child’s life… but could delving into the mystery cost Bridget her own?
A dark and absorbing thriller with the impact of memorable series like Broadchurch or The Missing, perfect for fans ofThe Girl on the Trainand Erin Kinsley’sFound.
My thoughts:
This was a clever and enjoyable thriller, exploring ideas of memory and mental illness.
While suffering from post natal depression, a terrible condition, and on medication, Bridget sees a child being abducted from a train station platform. But no one believes her.
Unable to trust her memory, and her rather terrifying mother, scared she might lose her baby daughter, she tries to prove she saw a crime and isn’t crazy.
As someone who lives with depression and anxiety, I completely understood how frustrating Bridget found things, people so easily blame your mental health when you seem a little unsure about things. It’s a cruel trope and unfair. Just because you’re unwell doesn’t mean you can’t see things or be trusted.
Bridget’s mother is the one spreading doubt about her health, manipulating events and causing fractures in Bridget’s marriage. I really didn’t like her from the off.
The final act is full of twists and surprises, and takes this into darker territory. I wasn’t expecting any of it and it was cleverly done.
*I was kindly gifted a copy of this book in exchange for taking part in the blog tour but all opinions remain my own.
The first biography of the bestselling author and journalist Marguerite Jervis Daughter of an officer of the Indian Medical Corps, Florence Laura Jarvis (1886 – 1964) was born in Marguerite Burma and became one of the most successful novelists of her time .
During the course of her 60-year career, Marguerite published over 150 books, with 11 novels adapted for film, including The Pleasure Garden (1925), the directorial debut of Alfred Hitchcock. In her heyday she sold hundreds of thousands of novels, but is now largely forgotten; under numerous pseudonyms she wrote for newspapers, women’s magazines and the silent movie screen; she married one of Wales most controversial literary figures, Caradoc Evans.
She also trained as an actress and was a theatrical impresario. Known variously as Mrs Caradoc Evans, Oliver Sandys, Countess Barcynska and many other pseudonyms, who was she really?
Liz Jones has dug deep beneath the tale told in Marguerite Jervis’s own somewhat romanticised memoir to reveal what made this driven and determined woman. And what turned her from a spoilt child of the English middle classes to a workaholic who could turn her hand to any literary endeavour and who became a runaway popular success during the most turbulent years of the 20th century.
Liz Jones writes drama and creative non-fiction, reviews, short stories and journalism ranging from Take a Break to New Welsh Review. Along the way she has raised two daughters, tried to change the world, worked in a café-cum-bookshop, a housing association, in community development and lifelong learning. She is now a Teaching Fellow at Aberystwyth University.
My thoughts: this was a really interesting book. I hadn’t heard of Marguerite Jarvis or any of her aliases. Even studying English Literature for years, she never crossed my path as a writer. Which is a shame. Her life was more interesting than fiction. She reinvented herself so many times, as a writer, a “countess”, a theatre owner. Her books were made into films during the silent era, and then adapted into plays for her theatre company.
I really enjoyed learning about this interesting and colourful woman, her life, marriages and work. Her devotion to her last husband, Welsh writer Caradoc Evans, and her son Nicholas meant she never stopped writing, desperate for money to support them. It’s a shame her books seem to be hard to get hold of these days, yes I looked, as while they’re not particularly fashionable, they’re a part of literary history.
*I was kindly gifted a copy of this book in exchange for taking part in the blog tour but all opinions remain my own.
Three women. Three different stages of life. United by one thing: the chance to start again.
‘Uplifting, emotional and brimming with warmth and humour’ – Cathy Bramley
When Elizabeth’s husband dies, leaving her with crippling debt, the only person she can turn to is her friend, Jo. Soon Jo has called in her daughter, Lucy, to help save Elizabeth from bankruptcy. Leaving her old life behind, Lucy is determined to make the most of her fresh start. As life slowly begins to return to normal, these three women, thrown together by circumstance, become fast friends. But then Jo’s world is turned upside down when she receives some shocking news. In search of solace, Jo and Elizabeth find themselves enjoying midnight dips in the freezing Irish Sea. Here they can laugh, cry and wash away all their fears. As well as conjure a fundraising plan for the local hospice that will bring the whole community together…
From bestselling Irish writer Faith Hogan, The Ladies’ Midnight Swimming Club is an emotional story about finding new friends and living life to the fullest, that will appeal to fans of Sheila O’Flanagan, Heidi Swain and Liz Fenwick.
Faith Hogan is an Irish award-winning and bestselling author of five contemporary fiction novels. Her books have featured as Book Club Favorites, Net Galley Hot Reads and Summer Must Reads. She writes grown up women’s fiction which is unashamedly uplifting, feel good and inspiring. She is currently working on her next novel. She lives in the west of Ireland with her husband, four children and a very busy Labrador named Penny. She’s a writer, reader, enthusiastic dog walker and reluctant jogger – except of course when it is raining!
My thoughts: this was a lovely, heartwarming story of family and friendship. Do have the tissues handy as there is a weepy bit.
Set in a small village in Western Ireland, the story revolves around the recently widowed Elizabeth and her friend Jo, the founder of the Ladies’ Midnight Swimming Club. As Elizabeth adjusts to her new life, Jo’s daughter and grandson move to the village, looking to make a change.
I loved the characters, Elizabeth experiences a late blossoming after her husband dies and finds a new purpose, Jo is a delight, always full of joy. Lucy, Jo’s daughter, is a great addition to their gang and the other characters, Dan and Niall, are always interesting.
The story is sweet and enjoyable, the women’s friendships, Niall’s coming out of his shell and Dan’s journey are all tender and touching.
*I was kindly gifted a copy of this book in exchange for taking part in the blog tour but all opinions remain my own.
Today author Paul Maunder has kindly written about his experience writing new book The Atomics and I’ve been lucky enough to have read it (Thank you Lightning Books for my copy). My review follows after Paul’s essay. Enjoy!
A GOTHIC STORY OF MADNESS, REVENGE AND URANIUM-235 Midsummer, 1968. When Frank Banner and his wife Gail move to the Suffolk coast to work at a newly built nuclear power station, they are hoping to leave violence and pain behind them. Gail wants a baby but Frank is only concerned with spending time in the gleaming reactor core of the Seton One power station. Their new neighbours are also ‘Atomics’ – part of the power station community. But Frank takes a dislike to the boorish, predatory Maynard. And when the other man begins to pursue a young woman who works in the power station’s medical centre, Frank decides to intervene. As the sun beats relentlessly upon this bleak landscape, his demons return. A vicious and merciless voice tells him he has an obligation to protect the young woman and Frank knows just how to do it. Radiation will make him stronger, radiation will turn him into a hero…
A Productive Mid-Life Crisis
My winding path to publishing The Atomics
Paul Maunder
When I started writing fiction in my early twenties, I had no idea what I was doing. I’m sure many fiction writers will recognise that feeling, but my ignorance ran especially deep. Throughout my teenage years I was engaged in, obsessed by, cycle racing. My dream was to win the Tour de France not the Man Booker Prize. I read nothing but cycling magazines. But cycle racing is a cruel sport; I discovered the sizeable gap between my ambition and my ability, and at eighteen, tempted by the opportunity to reinvent myself at university, I gave up the lycra.
At university I studied politics. Literature was only a very faint beep on the edge of my radar screen. I still wasn’t reading novels (I was barely reading the politics books required for my course), yet in the third year, when allowed to choose a course from another department, I went for an English Literature course about the American city. Perhaps that was the first glimmer of an interest in books, though I was too busy organising raves and other nefarious pursuits to really think about it.
The crucial moment came in the summer after leaving university. A friend lent me his copy of American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis. I read it quickly and was absorbed, appalled, exhilarated. It was not the sex and violence that attracted me but the idea of what a novel could be. It was so different to my preconception of what constituted ‘literature’. Immediately I thought, I can do that. And I started doing just that.
It only took a few days for me to realise that I could not do anything remotely like that. But by then the addiction had taken hold. I was a writer. I knew that with absolute certainty.
Over the following two decades I wrote five novels, plus a couple of false starts. I enrolled on the MA in Creative Writing at Royal Holloway, where I studied with Andrew Motion. I consumed books on the craft of writing and ploughed my way through dozens of novels. My ignorance about literature had allowed me to start writing without the sense of inadequacy that cripples many aspiring writers who know what a good book is. I saw this happening in my MA classes – the older, more experienced readers in the group would produce ten pages of prose but condemn their own work because it didn’t live up to their idea of what they should be producing. I had no benchmarks so I arrogantly thought that everything I produced was top-notch.
I inched towards publication. Each novel I wrote was better than the last. I could always turn out a few pages of half-decent prose, but my downfall lay in bigger, structural issues. Plot, or lack thereof. Story, ditto. Characters that didn’t live and breathe. I submitted to literary agents and endured the slow drip of rejection letters.
In the year that I turned forty I signed with a fantastic literary agent, one of those big names in the industry who commands respect from publishers. I had a novel set in the Second World War that felt ready, and a couple of editors were interested. I felt certain this was the moment I would drag myself across the line (I still had the arrogance of self-belief). The editors passed. My agent encouraged me to redraft the book, and I got lost in a maze of rewriting that I didn’t really understand or believe in. I lost sight of what the book was about. By the eighteenth draft I was left with a big mess.
I gave up. Switched to journalism and non-fiction. Published two books – with relative ease – about cycling. This was my mid-life crisis, more sedate and productive than buying a sports car or having an affair. Writing non-fiction required me to pull together a lot of information then build a story out of it that would, hopefully, engage the reader and keep them turning the pages. That transformed the way I looked at fiction.
My earlier novels had been filled with all the strange and disparate ideas that had been floating around my head at that particular time – Cornish independence movements, custom coffin-makers, mobile libraries, dance music, Dad’s Army. The books had a facetious, too-clever tone. They didn’t hang together as stories, and there was no emotional truth at their core. Writing non-fiction taught me the importance of story, above all else. And the importance of considering the reader at all times. Previously I’d thought that whatever I wrote would be so perceptive, so insightful, that any sensible reader would be impressed. Now I understood just how daft that position was.
When I started The Atomics I focused on story and character. Create real characters, tell their story. That was my mantra. Now the book is about to be published by Lightning Books. I got there, eventually.
The Atomics by Paul Maunder is published by Lightning Books on May 3rd
My thoughts: this was a really interesting book about a man slowing unravelling while working at a nuclear reactor and living in a small, intense community in a remote part of Suffolk.
There’s a sense of claustrophobia and a sort of incestuousness, the employees and their families seem to only socialise with each other, and Alice, who’s from the local community feels like something of an outsider.
Frank is seriously disturbed following the events that drive him from Oxford, and this leads him to do some terrible things. He’s also convinced that the uranium used at the plant is gifting him powers, as opposed to making him ill. The quiet desperation of his wife, Gail, increases as his mania does.
I found the growing violence and strangeness in Frank fascinating but also repelling, the voice in his head is menacing but also seductive in its desire for destruction.
Alice and Gail are also interesting – neither really belong in the village, even though Alice grew up there. Both want things their current lives won’t give them and don’t really know how to get them.
Thank you to Lightning Books for my review copy and Paul for sharing his experiences with us.
A timely and powerful coming-of-age thriller from the bestselling author of The One Memory of Flora Banks.
What would you do when you hear the news that humans have done such damage to the earth that there might only be a limited amount of safe air left – a year’s worth at most? You’d work through your bucket list, heal rifts, do everything you’ve never been brave enough to do before?
Olivia is struggling to do any of this. What it is she truly wants to do? Who do she wants to be?
Then out of the blue comes contact from a long-lost cousin Olivia didn’t even know existed. Natasha is everything Olivia wants to be and more. And as the girls meet up for a long, hot last summer, Olivia finds Natasha’s ease and self-confidence having an effect on her.
But Natasha definitely isn’t everything she first appears to be . . .
My thoughts: this was an interesting take on all the apocalypse fiction around at the moment – instead of a plague, the permafrost has melted releasing tons of carbon dioxide into the air, basically suffocating the world. But before that happens, people are going all out.
Libby heads to Spain with her mum and stepdad for a once in a lifetime (literally, the world ends in a month) holiday. Where they’re joined by her estranged cousin Natasha. Who isn’t entirely who she claims to be.
Hijinks ensue and Libby winds up in Paris, where things start to unravel. Can she make it home before the air runs out?
I liked Libby, I liked her determination to do things “one day”, I recognised that feeling. She was a lot stronger and more able than she felt, and as her confidence grew and she started to come out of her shell, she became more interesting and 3D.
Natasha was an interesting foil to Libby’s innocence and book smarts, with her street hustler skills and devil may care attitude, but she’s definitely not likeable. Her “take what you can” ways are cruel and manipulative, I like to think she gets her comeuppance at some point for the way she tricks people.
As someone who would die quite early in this world ending scenario (hello asthma!) I was intrigued by the idea of everyone being smothered. What about the carbon sinks? I was reading about the peat moors the other day and how they can hold an insane amount of carbon. Wouldn’t a lot of it escape into the outer atmosphere? I wish the science had been a little clearer but I suppose that like Libby and her family I wouldn’t necessarily want all the gory details about how we’re all going to die.
*I was kindly gifted a copy of this book in exchange for taking part in the blog tour but all opinions remain my own.
Fiona keeps herself to herself – it is safer that way. She allows few people to get close, having learned the hard way that most have their own agendas.
Lowering her barriers and trusting her husband Rob, is a decision she has reason to regret. His indiscretions were coming to light even before the news of his hit and run killing one summer afternoon.
In the aftermath, blame and hostility is shown to her by many. The relationship with her mother is unravelling and she has shut herself away from any friends she once had. Who can she turn to? Who will believe her? Other than her son Jack and her father, there is nobody she can count on.
Can Fiona stay away from her oldest and most faithful friend, the bottle? Or is her life as over as her husband’s?
Only the truth of Rob’s untimely death can decide that.
Maria Frankland’s life began at 40 when she escaped an unhappy marriage and began making a living from her own writing and becoming a teacher of creative writing.
The rich tapestry of life with all its turbulent times has enabled her to pour experience, angst and lessons learned into the writing of her novels and poetry.
She recognises that the darkest places can exist within family relationships and this is reflected in the domestic thrillers she writes.
She is a ‘born ‘n’ bred’ Yorkshirewoman, a mother of two and has recently found her own ‘happy ever after’ after marrying again.
Still in her forties, she is now going to dedicate the rest of her working life to writing books and inspiring other writers to also achieve their dreams too!
As is probably obvious from the fact that this is the fifth title I’ve reviewed, I really enjoy Maria Frankland’s dark, clever thrillers, featuring ordinary people whose lives get completely turned inside out.
In this case it’s Fiona, a wife and mother, recovering alcoholic and daughter of warring parents herself, whose life is suddenly flipped upside down after her husband Rob is killed in a hit and run.
As the police investigate, Fiona finds herself the number one suspect, but Rob had a lot of secrets and she’s sure one of those will eventually lead to his real killer. Meanwhile she’s trying to hold it all together for her young son, and resist the urge to throw away her sobriety.
Fiona is a likeable protagonist, naive and perhaps a little overly trusting, but her love for her family is genuine and her determination to find out what Rob was keeping from her is a powerful motivator to keep going.
*I was kindly gifted a copy of this book in exchange for taking part in the blog tour but all opinions remain my own.
ramblingmads 