Book Review: Daughters of Jerusalem by Charlotte Mendelson

Set in the claustrophobic world of 1980s Oxford, Daughters of Jerusalem tells the story of the Lux family and the façade of respectability that crumbles through the course of the novel. It's an hilarious and dark novel that perfectly captures the bitterness of life with vivid characters who jump from the page.

Chief amongst these is the eldest daughter, Eve, who loathes her younger sister with a passion. Phoebe is spoiled and always gets whatever she wants whilst intelligent Eve feels sidelined. As the novel progresses this loathing takes a more sinister turn and Phoebe's machinations against her sister have dire consequences. Mendelson's portrayal of Phoebe's selfishness is exquisite, especially because we've all encountered someone like that in our lives.

Jean Lux's attention to her daughters is diminished by the desire for some excitement in her boring life. Her husband is far more interested in a Lectureship that's threatened by the arrival of an old enemy and her friend, Helena, has a bombshell to drop about the nature of their relationship that impacts the whole family. I really enjoyed the development of that storyline and how it fit into the claustrophobic environment.

Ultimately, Daughters of Jerusalem is so enjoyable because it's so real. It melds the academic life with a dysfunctional family life. It doesn't shy away from showing parents with favourites and how this can affect the children. It's a novel about misunderstandings and things being left unsaid. The final chapters manage to bring everything together without tying it all neatly in a bow and there are some truly satisfying moments in the last third that are just reward for reading - even if the entire book wasn't enjoyable in numerous little ways.

Short Story Publication - Pongo

As I reported last year, I was short-listed in the 2015 Exeter Story Prize. I'm now pleased to tell you that my story, 'Pongo', has been published in their anthology of winning and short-listed entries.

'Pongo' is a bit of a dark story. It takes place on Boxing Day at a fairground but it isn't one of those typically fluffy Christmas stories. I'm quite proud of it and I hope some of you will get the opportunity to read it. When I have success with a short story featuring lesbian characters I'm honestly delighted. That's the bread and butter of my work and I'm grateful it's reaching a general audience as well.

You can buy the anthology from Amazon here.

In addition, please check out Creative Writing Matters who host these annual competitions. They do a lot of good work with writers and are a lovely bunch.

Short Story Publication - Dear Violet

At the end of last year I was delighted to be awarded third prize in the Fabula Press Aestas 2015 competition. My story has now been published as part of their winners' anthology and is available to buy online for just £5.99.

'Dear Violet' is a story that came to me when I heard about a postbox that hadn't been emptied for years and started wondering about what kind of letters could've languished in there. I received some fantastic feedback from the judges and it's really been a pleasure working with the editor getting this story ready for publication so thank you to Fabula Press for that. I haven't had chance to read the other stories yet but there are some interesting titles in there and I'm sure it's going to be excellent.

You can buy the anthology from Amazon here.

Book Review: Wild at Heart: A Life by Suzanne Rodriguez

Natalie Clifford Barney was at the centre of decadent Paris in the opening decades of the 20th century. In this biography, Rodriguez examines the life of a controversial woman, famed more for her scandalous affairs with women and her literary salon than her own literary pursuits.

Barney is one of those subjects it's difficult to like. Rodriquez doesn't flinch away from examining her flighty nature and the selfishness that permeates the book is a bit overwhelming at times. However, it's balanced out by her generous acts and determination to help fellow writers in various ways. It creates something of a contradictory human being and that, of course, rings completely true.

Born into a life of privilege, Natalie Clifford Barney defied expectations by refusing to settle down and marry. Instead, she embarked on a series of intense love affairs with women from an early age. She didn't believe in fidelity, though, which caused problems with some of her more important relationships, In truth, it becomes a bit dizzying and her treatment of some of her partners doesn't portray her in a positive light.

It's easier to be impressed by her literary salon and the spasmodic efforts she put in to championing various writers and artists. The names peppered within this book read like a who's-who of the 20th century artistic scene with Ezra Pound, Rainer Maria Rilke and Ford Madoz Ford popping up. One of the most laudable of Barney's endeavours was to host nights specifically for celebrating women such as Gertrude Stein and Anna Wickham, one of the first attempts to draw attention to the achievements of women when men were getting most of the glory. The most amusing anecdote in the book comes via the retelling of Barney's single, disastrous meeting with Marcel Proust. It's worth reading just for that.

Barney's lack of application to her own literary talents is frustrating. Editing wasn't something she was interested in, meaning that her potential was never fulfilled. For me, anyway, this was one of the things that annoyed me about her and I was left wondering what could've been if she'd been forced to write to earn her living. However, that would've negated a lot of what made Natalie Clifford Barney who she was.

In the end, Rodriguez manages an intimate yet unflinching portrait of a flawed woman of privilege. The portrayals of American high society and Parisian life are evocative of a lost age and, overall, this is an excellent biography of a woman who, nevertheless, I couldn't bring myself to like.

Book Review: The Complete Package by Ann Roberts

The Complete Package tells the story of Lenny Barclay, mayor of a sleepy Colorado mountain town, who hasn't been able to pick herself up following the death of her partner. Estranged from her son and having let her business go to pieces, nothing seems to touch her any more. When a corporate planner, Sloane, arrives intent on changing the face of the town forever and buying her business, Lenny gets a bit of her bite back, but it turns into far more than a professional battle.

As a romantic read, this one ticks most of the boxes. Lenny and Sloane develop an entirely realistic antagonistic relationship and both are difficult to like at times. There are some genuinely funny moments - for instance, the log incident - and it builds to a satisfying romantic resolution that doesn't dodge the issues of the two characters. Equally, the use of location in this novel is superb. The landscape is integral to both the plot and Lenny's characterisation and it's definitely another character in itself, maybe the most important one. Something else I liked was the twist towards the end, entirely in keeping with Sloane's character.

However, there were aspects of this one I didn't like and they're probably more personal preferences than anything else. I'm not a fan of giving animals viewpoint chapters in the middle of adult novels and those chapters took me out of the narrative a little. Similarly, some of the sex scenes might've been indicative of character but they took time away from other things in the book I found more important.

Ultimately, The Complete Package, is a nice, easy read that deals with universal themes of grief and greed. It might build to a expected conclusion but it's nice getting there. For all the emphasis on Lenny in the narrative, though, it's Sloane who's stuck with me since I finished this book.

My Favourite Books of 2015

One benefit of not reading enough is that the good books I've read stand out that little bit more. Interesting thing? I read all of these in the first seven months of the year. You can find the complete list of books I've read this year here but these are my top five, in no particular order.

Dead to Me by Cath Staincliffe

The first book I read in 2015 is still one of my favourites. A prequel to the Scott & Bailey television series, this was an excellent read and the plan is still to read the next novel when I get a chance. My full review can be found here. 

Felix Holt, the Radical by George Eliot

It's taken quite a while for me to find an Eliot book that really got me but Felix Holt  turned out to be it. Almost a year later I'm still thinking about the evocative riot scenes and this is one of those rare novels I remember exactly where I was when I read it, down to the bumps on the track between Wakefield and Sheffield. My full review can be found here. 

Inseparable: Desire Between Women in Literature by Emma Donoghue

My favourite non-fiction book of the year, this is an excellent analysis of same-sex desire that has provided me with so much potential reading material that it's already paid for itself ten times over. My full review can be found here. 

Murder in the Afternoon by Frances Brody

My infatuation with Kate Shackleton doesn't seem to be easing but who cares? Out of the three Brody novels I reviewed in 2015, this one is my favourite thanks to the Wakefield setting. My full review can be found here. 

Here Be Dragons by Stella Gibbons

Here's another author who I could read forever. No matter what I think of a Gibbons plot, the settings are evocative and the characters memorable. Here Be Dragons is another excellent examination of post-war London and it struck a chord. My full review can be found here. 

Book Review: The Comedienne by V.G Lee

The Comedienne is a rather episodic book about Joanie Littler, a woman who struggles through a selection of unequal relationships before inventing a lover to allow her back into the world. From her days caring for her mother - who disapproves of her first lesbian relationship - to finally 'breaking up' with Freddy and opening the door to new possibilities, The Comedienne covers two decades in Joanie's life.

This is a genuinely funny novel in places and I laughed out loud a few times. The conversational first-person tone of the narrative is pretty engrossing and the characters really do spring from the pages. At the beginning, Lee depicts the intense irritation that living with a parent as an adult can induce. Her mother's interference in her relationship with Susan leads to one of my favourite moments of the book and it involves slippers.

All the imaginary girlfriend stuff was amusing to start with but, I have to say, by the end I was wondering why Joanie had carried it on so long, considering how little she got out of the whole thing. It allowed for on-going humorous and tricky situations but condemned her to the loneliness she was hoping to avoid by inventing a girlfriend and gaining access to couples' dinner parties. It left me a bit ambivalent.

The episodic nature meant that some scenes were included while others weren't. I was rather disappointed that we got a full depiction of Joanie attending one old woman's funeral but not her own mother's. I felt like I wanted the circularity of that in the novel as a reader. Similarly, I wasn't sure about the ending for opposite reasons. All that said, I enjoyed it for the amusing book it was and I'll know what not to do next time I invent an imaginary girlfriend.

Interlocking Projects

Since I decided to knock NaNo on the head, I've felt a little more in control. Keeping up with an arbitrary word count wasn't for me at the moment and anybody who seeks to rub their 'success' in my face can honestly save their time. At the end of the day, it's better for me to be editing a project that's captured my heart instead of fighting an imaginary battle. I'm just not in the mood for it.

The truth is, there are three things at the moment that are feeding into one another. It's created something of a fire storm in my head - I'm always thinking of one or other of these things and, fortunately for me, they're proving productive.  

The first of these is the novel fourth draft I'm working on - 'Max'. It's amusing in some respects. When I wrote the first draft I remarked that, 'The least said about this one, the better! I didn't want to write it in the first place but I was...compelled.' Thinking about the second draft, I wrote, 'I know how I want the rewrite of this to pan out but the thought of writing it makes me feel queasy.' I finally got round to writing the second draft late last year, adding a second viewpoint and making the 'antagonist' a little more well-rounded. My goal, as I explained, was to delve into the characters: 'The first draft was an exercise in cleansing my mind; now I know more of the characters and I'm ready to create something a little better.' So the second draft twisted things a little and I ended up with a happy ending. The third draft earlier this year removed some secondary characters and replaced them with others who complemented the overall plot. And, once again, my antagonist got a bit nicer. In this fourth draft, she's not quite wearing a halo but it's not far off. I understand her. I understand why she makes some terrible decisions and why she comes across as completely selfish and the work I've done on my protagonist to explain why she reacts the way she does has helped. All in all, I think I'm really getting somewhere with this one. 

My epic fan fic venture is another thing keeping me occupied. Now, I know people have varied opinions about fan fiction but I've always found it keeps my mind focused on writing and I can tell stories I want to for my own personal amusement. If it also helps me unwind then that's no bad thing. This story I'm telling at the moment, though, is one that I've needed to write for a decade and it's consuming me a little - I haven't done a complete word count lately but I suspect we're over the 400,000 word mark. So much for a hobby! However, I'm enjoying writing it and I'm enjoying reading back over it. For me, that's the most important thing. 

The third thing that's feeding into my mental state at the moment is Once Upon a Time. I won't go into details but, for those of you who haven't watched the show, it's a retelling of certain fairytales that has a pretty important 'friendship' going on between two female characters. I'm drowning in fan fic and gifs - again, a hobby, but one that's aiding my productivity on the novel draft and the fan fic.

You see, there's a good reason these three things are coexisting in my life at the moment. All of them have family at their root. I learned during the second draft of 'Max' that it was the integral theme of the novel and that's only strengthened as time's gone by. In the fan fic, it's emerged as the defining theme and, well, Once Upon a Time is meant to be about family, even if it's not always clear that the writers know what they're doing. The novel draft, the fan fic and Once Upon a Time all have two parents (one not blood-related) and a complex familial relationship at the heart of them. And, perhaps, that's why everything's working so well at the moment.

There's no doubt in my mind that writing this fan fic and getting overly involved in Once Upon a Time is helping my novel draft. Call it a waste of valuable time if you want but I don't believe that - you can't write before you've learned the value and cost of a particular story or theme. Slowly, I'm figuring that out. 

Book Review: The Secret Diaries of Miss Anne Lister ed. Helena Whitbread

This is a book that's been on my shelf for quite some time and what put me off reading it was the bitty nature of it. I suspected that, whether I was enjoying it or not, this would be a book that would slow down my reading schedule and I wasn't wrong. However, I'm certainly glad I got round to it in the end.

Anne Lister lived at Shibden Hall in Halifax in the early 1800s and kept a diary for most of her life. The diaries in this volume span the years 1816-1824 and document her everyday existence in Yorkshire - along with her same-sex relationships and attractions. Anything that Lister wrote in her famous 'code' are separated from the rest of the text by italics, making it easier to keep up with when she's discussing her sexual relationships with, and desires towards, women.

Certain parts of these diaries can feel quite mundane but perhaps that's the attraction. They provide a fascinating description of life as a well-off woman and the daily trials of life. However, Lister was certainly a unique woman in many ways, making her diaries an interesting juxtaposition to similar surviving documents of the era. I enjoyed reading the domestic passages, although parts do get a little repetitive - a peril of such a lengthy set of diaries.

Lister was a snob and this comes through very clearly in her writing. Her use of the term 'vulgar' gets old quite quickly, losing some of its effect by the end of the book! Alternately, I felt sympathy for her isolation, given her intelligence and sexuality, and exasperation at the way she behaved to those who wanted to be friendly with her.

These diaries are expertly edited by Helena Whitbread, including just enough contextual information without overloading the book. While the main interest may lie in Lister's descriptions of her lesbian relationships, the rest of the diaries are equally as compelling - if at times incredibly exasperating.

This book was read as part of the 'TBR' reading challenge, details here.

Book Review: Rubyfruit Jungle by Rita Mae Brown

First published in 1973, Rubyfruit Jungle is a bawdy romp through one woman's childhood, adolescence and early adulthood as she explores her sexuality and tries to find her place in America without making any compromises. Molly Bolt is the adoptive daughter of a poor couple, a disappointment to her mother, and aware of her sexuality from an early age. This leads to problem after problem but Molly refuses to fit into any mould - she doesn't want a relationship or to settle down, she just wants to get on with her life.

I had mixed feelings about this one. I probably wouldn't have read it if it hadn't been for the reading group I'm a part of and Molly's philosophy isn't really one I'd ever subscribe to. As a critique of contemporary views it works quite well with homophobia and attitudes towards sexuality in general thoroughly examined. However, I did start to lose track of who everyone was as Molly flitted from one relationship to the next. In that sense it's a very episodic narrative, though I appreciated the loop around at the end that grounded me a little more as a reader.

It's an easy read that whooshes along quite rapidly. It's also evocative, particularly the childhood sections before Molly's conquests started to blur for me. While I doubt I'll be rereading it, I'm at least glad I came across it and thanks to my reading group for that.

Book Review: The Paying Guests by Sarah Waters

Sarah Waters's sixth novel returns to the complexities of historical lesbian romance, set this time in the years following the Great War. While some people complained that her last novel The Little Stranger didn't have any lesbian characters, I rather enjoyed it. However, I did appreciate the intricacies of The Paying Guests and I put off reading it for quite some time to prolong the pleasure. I always remember one comment on Fingersmith saying that there are some books you envy people for not having read yet - I think this is another one from Waters.

Frances Wray and her widowed mother are forced to take in lodgers when their once-majestic home on Champion Hill becomes unaffordable. These 'paying guests' are Lilian and Leonard Barber, injecting life into the house that Frances and Mrs Wray find difficult to deal with. Against expectations, Frances and Lilian strike up a friendship. This, however, leads to complications which, in turn, leads to something so unexpected that I almost put the book down to applaud before going back to marvel at the foreshadowing.

To say I enjoyed this book would be an understatement and I don't want to say too much about it. What I will say is that the atmosphere built in this novel teeters on the right side of claustrophobic and the characterisation is brilliant, from the protagonists down to the incidentals. The Paying Guests is a sumptuous novel and, yes, I do envy those yet to read it.

This book was read as part of the 'Women' reading challenge, details here.

Book Review: Inseparable: Desire Between Women in Literature by Emma Donoghue

This fascinating non-fiction book examines the representation of desire between woman in literature in six section: 'Travesties', 'Inseparables', 'Rivals', 'Monsters', 'Detection' and 'Out'. While it's full of detail and so will please any scholars interested in the subject, Inseparable is also an easy, sometimes amusing, read for non-academics. Donoghue infuses her non-fiction analysis with the same edge of humour that I enjoy so much in her fiction. Though, for me, this subject could never be dry and boring, she ensures it isn't so.

The 'Travesties' section looks at cross-dressing within texts from 990 onwards, including brief discussions on Shakespeare, Margaret Cavendish and Theophile Gautier amongst others. It examines the recurring depictions of 'The Female Bridegroom' and 'The Male Amazon' in a chapter that looks at the causes and consequences of cross-dressing and its heyday in the drama of the seventeeth century.

'Inseparables' begins with the Biblical account of Ruth and Naomi and covers the representation of love based on similarity. As this is one of my areas of interest, I perhaps found this chapter the most interesting, particularly the discussion on Charlotte Bronte's Shirley. It also highlighted some works I want to read, both for pleasure and study - as every chapter did.

'Rivals' is a fascinating analysis of what happens when a woman and man compete for the same love. It starts with Sappho and goes through Shakespeare, Richardson and some rather brilliant-sounding French texts before moving on to discuss what happens when the rivalry bubbles over. It examined some texts I was already familiar with, such as The Rainbow and The Fox, but, again, the ones I found most intriguing were the ones I've yet to read, most notably The Bostonians.

Perhaps the chapter on 'Monsters' contains the themes most familiar to observers of fiction about desire between women. It's interesting to see the texts these stereotypes stemmed from then we take a short tour through Dickens, Hardy and others. This is quite an uncomfortable chapter, though I particularly liked the section on ghost stories.

The fifth chapter on 'Detection' provided me with plenty of books I want to read somewhere down the line. Again, desire between women is a theme pretty familiar to readers of the crime genre and it looks at writers including Ruth Rendell, Agatha Christie and P.D. James. Given my sensation fiction roots, I was also pleased to see a discussion of The Woman in White in this chapter followed by an examination of two novels by Sarah Waters.

'Out', the final chapter, looks at the 'awakening' motif in texts from George Moore onwards. It's a nice shift in tone from the other chapters, looking at declared love instead of coded texts, but it also highlights the complexities of modern life. There's a section here on 'first love' which covers several texts I was already familiar with and, once more, a number of works mentioned in this chapter are now begging to be read.

Ultimately, Emma Donoghue has written a book that is both informative and fascinating. Her subject knowledge is exemplary and her style engaging. I've already referred back to Inseparable for academic work and I have no doubt I'll be doing that again fairly frequently. Highly recommended!

Yet Another Lesbian Television Tragedy

As I prepared to watch the series finale of Call the Midwife yesterday I already expected something bad to happen to the lesbian couple. A couple of months ago I doubt I would've been so pessimistic, but since then we've had a pregnant lesbian mown down by a car the day after her wedding in Last Tango in Halifax so I've been watching Call the Midwife with a deep sense of foreboding. It turned out to be justified, since Delia Busby was knocked off a bike just as she was preparing to move in with her secret girlfriend Patsy Mount. Delia woke up in hospital with amnesia and is going back to Wales with her mum to recover. Is there something in the guidance for Sunday night BBC television that insists lesbians have to be killed or maimed by the end of a series? It's certainly not a phenomenon contained to the BBC though, or British television. Sure, there are some exceptions but, examined in context, these two storylines are particularly frustrating.

First, a little lesson from my viewing history. One of the first lesbian storylines I became invested in was from the now-defunct British soap Family Affairs in 2002. It followed Kelly's love for her married friend Karen and her willingness to become a surrogate mother for her. Long story short - Karen fell in love with Kelly, they were caught out after the baby was born, they tried to make a go of it and, accidentally, Karen's ex pushed Kelly down the stairs. Lesbian storyline ended in the morgue and Karen reconciled with her ex.

Fast forward to 2015. Any suggestion that Kate's death in Last Tango in Halifax was necessary to propel the narrative and to fix a family rift between Caroline and her mother is a ridiculous defence. It meant that not only did we lose a lesbian (and a black lesbian at that) but the casual homophobia and racism peppered throughout the dialogue was never challenged. At the end of the series, while everyone else celebrated her step-sister's wedding, Caroline sat outside with baby Flora chatting to the ghost of her dead wife while, quite literally, covered in manure.

As for Call the Midwife... Well, I was prepared for this storyline to progress badly. However, the way I expected it to go was completely in-keeping with the challenges of the era: I thought homophobia and the pressures of a secret relationship would get to Patsy and Delia. That would've been sad, yes, but comprehensible. However, a road accident and amnesia feels just like a deliberate attack on the lesbian characters. The heterosexual couples in this series faced difficulties, yes, but they were based on deeper issues than chance: Shelagh and Patrick Turner had a few ups and down regarding their workloads but came through it as a strong couple; Chummy and Peter lived separately for a while to aid the health of their son but were solid throughout; Fred and Violet overcame shyness and family objections to marry by the end of the series; and Trixie and Tom were drawn apart by differing expectations and her drinking. All very human problems but the lesbian couple? Car crash and amnesia. It doesn't fit, does it?

When you watch the end of a series and your one consolation for the lesbian characters is 'at least you're not dead' then you know there's a pretty serious problem of representation, usually reliant on tropes. These shows were written independently of each other so how do you explain two such disasters in two months?

I suppose Call the Midwife could salvage this storyline in the next series. I might be convinced by a continuation where Delia slowly regains her memory and falls in love with Patsy all over again. But is that likely? I don't know. I'll just have to cross everything. In the meantime, the first couple of months of 2015 had been lousy for lesbian representation on popular programmes. Exactly what has changed from 2002?

Book Review: Love Alters ed. Emma Donoghue

Love Alters: Lesbian Stories, previously released as The Mammoth Book of Lesbian Short Stories, includes 29 stories split into the categories of 'Child's Play', 'Present Tense', 'Family Values', 'Past Times' and 'Possibilities'. These rough categories allow for some distinction as you go through the book but, really, the stories are generally wildly different to each other. It draws together authors from across the world with some brilliant stories, both heartbreaking and humorous, which analyse the finer points of life. The overarching banner may be 'lesbian short stories' but there's far more to this collection than that.

There are two stories that stick in my mind. The first, 'Self-Deliverance' by Elise D'Haene, is a checklist compiled by a dying man, Teddy, and his two friends, Alf and Ginnie. Meandering back and forth, D'Haene creates a story that's both rooted in the immediate problem yet tells you all you need to know about the characters. The second story, 'Did'ja Ever Hear of a Goolieguy?' by Anne Cameron follows a woman fleeing from her suffocating life with her partner who travels back home. Part myth, part reality, this one really struck me for reasons I can't define. Perhaps it was only that everything the narrator experiences is a thought-provoking metaphor for something else.

The 'Past Times' section throws up some interesting work. 'The Catherine Trilogy' by Ingrid MacDonald, the longest piece in the book, follows the life of a woman who passes her life as a man in 18th century Europe. I was hooked by the first part, endured the second and enjoyed the third, though I see the need for all of them. Also in this section was 'The Burning Times' by Sara Maitland, a potent tale of jealousy in the time of witchcraft trials, Emma Donoghue's 'The Tale of the Kiss' which tells of another 'witch' in a cave and the captivating 'The Woman Who Loved the Moon', a story that defies simple analysis.

Of course, there were stories in this collection that didn't take my fancy as much but I found something in most of them to appreciate. For example, Madelyn Arnold's 'See You in the Movies', about a woman going on a trip with her new partner and kids, made me laugh out loud while Dorothy Allison's 'River of Names' is a haunting look at the tragedies around one woman which she tries to share with her partner. Finally, one of the early stories 'Pamelump' is similarly thought-provoking, as it examines a girl and her disabled friend, utilising the simplicity of children to analyse very adult notions.

Ultimately, I really enjoyed this collection. I don't think anybody would love all of these eclectic stories but that just means there's something in it for everyone.

Book Review: Jill by Amy Dillwyn

First published in 1884, Jill tells the story of a well-bred heroine who hates her home life and so decides to venture out into the world and get by working for a living. After learning about her childhood and her father's second marriage, we follow her through her first position as a day-governess then she manages to land a job with a distant relative, Kitty Mervyn, who wants a travelling maid. Although generally a self-centred person, Kitty brings out an affection in Jill that surprises her. For a brief time, the supposed class barriers between them fall away but the friendly relations can't last and events are soon taken out of Jill's control by malevolent forces.

The only way I can describe this book is that it's a complete and utter romp. Suspend your disbelief and jump in. Jill is a compelling character, from the way she organises her escape from home to her escapades on Corsica with Kitty. She conveys things to the reader with a strong sense of humour and her interactions with other characters are laced with sarcasm and insight. I particularly enjoyed her dealings with her first employer, a neurotic woman who is dreadfully worried about contamination and disease. Jill skilfully handles her in a scene that is both satisfying and beautiful to read. The book is essentially made up of episodes and I'd imagine it would be a good book to read aloud with many decent break points. I especially love how Jill lambastes the conventions of romance and sensation early in the book and then Dillwyn goes on to make use of them in a very tongue-in-cheek way. The sense of a connection between the reader and Jill/the reader and the author is strong in this book.

It's not all light-hearted though. The tone shifts abruptly towards the end of the book when Jill is involved in an accident which leads to a profound change in her outlook. Because the rest of the book has been so much like a romp, it's difficult to accept the gear shift, especially considering what it leads to. However, on reflection, the scenes are made all the more potent by what has come before and they are certainly memorable.

Jill is a book with many strands. The affection Jill feels for Kitty is an important aspect, governing her behaviour at times but I didn't get a full sense of why she felt so strongly for her until the Corsica incidents. It also deals with issues of class and gender as Jill passes as a maid and is promptly pursued by a valet who doesn't want to take 'no' for an answer. In a light-hearted way, it raises some interesting questions, some of which I suppose are as valid today as they were 130 years ago. Jill concludes one chapter with this which struck a chord with me on first reading and does so again now: 'Yet I myself told lies unhesitatingly whenever I found them convenient; so what right had I to complain of other people for doing the same?' This book doesn't read much like a Victorian novel and perhaps that's why I enjoyed it so much.

Book Review: Intersection by Nancy Ann Healy

Intersection tells the story of Alex Toles, an FBI agent assigned to protect Congressman Chris O'Brien's ex-wife and son following the delivery of some suspicious letters. Alex soon learns that there is much more going on than meets the eye and becomes embroiled in political conspiracies. Added to her problems is the fact that she has quickly fallen for Cassidy O'Brien, making her desire to protect Cassidy and her son Dylan as much personal as professional.

The plot of this novel works really well. It's intriguing, fast-moving and with enough twists and turns to keep the reader interested. Healy has certainly mastered the use of cliffhangers, employing them to great effect throughout. She's also adept at cryptic dialogue, forcing you occasionally to struggle to keep up with what's going on. Some of the twists were expected, some weren't, and she often manages to build suspense by giving the reader knowledge the protagonist doesn't have. The cliffhanger at the end of the book to lead into a sequel is fine because the main tension of the book, the danger posed to Cassidy by a stalker, has been rectified. All that works well.

Similarly, the characterisation of Alex and Cassidy is excellent, although the love story is a little rushed at the beginning. They are different enough to spark off each other and I came away from the book thinking of them as real people. Dylan, the young son, is also well-drawn, not coming across as a cardboard cut-out the way some children in fiction do. Possibly my favourite character, though, is Cassidy's mother, Rose, simply because she's so grounded and practical.

All that said, I did have a few issues with the composition of the book. There's an intermittent problem where the tags after speech are wrongly capitalised (eg, 'Yes,' He said.) which is distracting. Equally, there's a little too much 'the agent', 'the teacher' identification throughout which was unnecessary and could easily have been remedied. Healy needs to keep a tighter grip on her prose, checking for repetitions within sentences and ditching some of the more obvious clichés.

I don't mean these to be criticisms so much as helpful observations. As I said above, I enjoyed the book as a whole - it kept me hooked despite the problems with the composition. I would like to see Healy improve and I will certainly be reading the sequel when it's released.

Book Review: Till Human Voices Wake Us by Patti Davis

Till Human Voices Wake Us is essentially an intimate novel about grief and finding ways to endure it. Isabelle Berendon loses her son in the opening pages when he drowns in their swimming pool. The narrative flashes forward to reveal that within a few months she's fallen in love with, and moved in with, her sister-in-law, Iris. The rest of the book deals with the events following Nathan's death and the future after she has moved in with Iris and taken her step-daughter, Margaret, with her, including the emergence of another grief lying in wait around the corner.

I can't say I enjoyed this book, but that wasn't really the point. This is a brutally honest novel that examines parental grief in a minute way. It's also about finding the love to help you through such a situation, although the gender of the person Isabelle finds solace in is incidental. As such, it can seem to take a back seat. That was one of the few things that disappointed me about the novel - I didn't think it explained the relationship alteration between Isabelle and Iris in as much detail as it possibly have.

That's not to say that it wasn't an absorbing read. It's written in a very lucid style, plunging into the past whenever necessary. It demonstrates how grief impedes on even the easiest activities and how your present is directly influenced by your past. Apart from her relationships with her husband, dead son and stepdaughter, we also learn about her criminal father and the effect that had on her mother. The flashbacks are always impeccably handled, though some of them were too curtailed for my liking.

Till Human Voices Wake Us is not a fast-moving book. The plot is very simple and the narrative voice is strong throughout. There is, however, a mystery that pulls at you from the opening pages and the resolution genuinely surprised me. The other characters perhaps aren't as strong as Isabelle but this is her story and it doesn't pretend to be anything else.

Overall, an exceptional examination of grief and love. Some slight niggles but, ultimately, a very heartfelt novel.

Bomb Girls Cancellation (Spoilers)

Bear with me. I don't usually get militant when shows I love are cancelled but, having watched the Bomb Girls S2 finale, in the knowledge that it may be the last time I see those characters, I bypassed upset and got angry. For those unfamiliar with the show, it tells the story of a group of women in a munitions factory in Toronto during World War II. It concluded its second series this week but last week it was announced that it's been cancelled. They have said there'll be a two-hour television movie next year to wrap up loose ends but, one, fans don't entirely believe them and, two, this deserves another series and not a tie-up movie.

I wrote in my email to Global as soon as I learned about the prospect of cancellation: Bomb Girls has a global appeal. It's a well-written show centred around women, and some very interesting women at that. It's sad that in 2013 this should still feel like a novelty but it does! To encounter four leading characters as different as Betty, Kate, Gladys and Lorna was wonderful for me and all credit to the writing team and the actors for that. I stand by those words. But not only is it a programme about strong women, it's about an important aspect of the war that hasn't been delved into properly. It's gold and that's why fans have come out fighting to save it.

I have to admit, like many fans there is one particular character I'm eager to save: Betty McRae. Like all of them, she is complex and brilliantly acted but her storyline over the two series has undoubtedly appealed to - and probably helped - lots of women all around the globe. Ali Liebert has been outstanding in every scene, but she shone especially in the finale. And all I can think at the moment is that it can't end like that. I mean, they've left Betty languishing in prison covering for the woman she loves. Yes, I predicted such a thing happening but that's only because I know these characters and I love these characters.

I've chuckled with these characters, I've been haunted by them. There's an industrial accident in series one that was one of the most traumatic scenes I've ever watched and I still think about it. Nor did the writers shy away from showing the repercussions of that accident in some of the most touching scenes I've seen on television in years. That's another thing I love about this team - they don't forget a thing because they know the viewer won't. Betty McRae fans found that out the hard way in the finale.

There are suggestions that the television network didn't treat the show right, budging it around the schedules in an effort to lower the ratings. And, some cynics have said, that the reason they have promised a movie is so that no other Canadian network picks the show up. THIS IS THE WRONG WAY TO TREAT YOUR AUDIENCES.

Bomb Girls still has potential. It has an outstanding cast and an outstanding production team. It's been nominated for awards and, as this fan backlash has demonstrated, it is intensely popular where people have heard of it. Below is the petition and some further reading. Signing the petition will only take a moment and there is a precedent in Canada for these type of campaigns working. So, please, donate a minute of your time and you'll have my eternal gratitude. 

Gladys and Lorna quoted Churchill on El Alamein in the final moments of the series finale: "Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end, but it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning." Every Bomb Girls fan is hoping this proves prophetic. 

Petition

Toronto Standard Article

The Globe and Mail Article

Huffington Post Article 

Lip Service Axed

Despite my open criticisms of Lip Service series two (see here and here) I'm disappointed to learn that it hasn't been renewed for a third series by BBC3. As I've mentioned previously, the second series became too fragmented for my liking, getting rid of three major characters in the space of two episodes and diluting the group aspect of the show. It could've been the stories that prompted the axe or it could've been the shift from Tuesday nights for S1 to Friday nights for S2. So far creator and executive producer Harriet Braun says she hasn't been given a proper reason by the BBC. However, I would say that if you muck around with things too much (I mean both the content and the time slot) then you have to be prepared for failure.

Still, I'm sad about the cancellation and there's one main reason for that - the character of Tess (Fiona Button). Unlucky in love, bit catastrophe-prone and extremely adorable, she became my reason for watching series two. How about a spin off - the incredible adventures of Tess on tour? Start in Scotland then buzz around the country. With all those audiences she would definitely find a woman...wouldn't she? It's something to think about.

Ultimately, whatever the justification for the cancellation, it's going to be a loss. I would've liked to have seen it return to the glory of the first series but, really, I'm not sure if that was possible. I don't suppose it's anyone's fault when actors need to leave to pursue their careers but I can't help thinking that swift exits were what set Lip Service down this road. Bye, bye, Tess. I'll miss you.

Television Review: Lip Service S2

A few weeks ago I blogged about Lip Service and the almighty shock it had just served up in the second episode of series two. I said then that killing off Cat (Laura Fraser) would leave a gap in the form of a group linchpin and the rest of the series seemed to prove that really.

Jay (Emun Elliott), not my favourite character I admit, disappeared after dropping a line at Cat's funeral saying that he was thinking about moving to London because he couldn't stand work without her. Very admirable, yes, but I would've liked to have seen more of his grief. It was a golden opportunity to see another side of a character we'd grown used to but it was wasted in order to get him off the scene quickly. Frankie (Ruta Gedmintas), who provided much of the action (in all senses of the word) in series one disappeared soon after Cat's death. Understandable, yes, given her flight tendencies but it meant we lost three characters who had been at the heart of series one in the space of two episodes. It's very tricky to come back from that. When I think about series one of Lip Service the storylines that immediate spring to mind are Cat and Frankie's love affair and Frankie's struggle to discover her parentage - both of these obviously featured Cat and Frankie heavily but Jay was also involved. Characters who made up the bulk of the first series were suddenly gone and I personally struggled with that.

What about the ones we had left? Well, I was very happy we managed to keep Ed (James Anthony Pearson), despite the death of his sister. Ed's friendship with Tess (Fiona Button) was about the one continuing aspect from series one and it was good to see that back on an even keel after his ill-advised declaration of love. It was also great to see him growing in confidence after selling his book, even if his choice of girlfriend in Nora (Sinead Keenan) was even more ill-advised than his crush on Tess. However, the scene where he broke up with Nora showed a stronger Ed than I was previously used to, and I think that all kicked off at Cat's funeral when he realised he was going to have to do without his big sister in his life.

And what about Tess herself? I still love her. Her rehearsal scenes with Nora and Hugh (Stuart McQuarrie) were gold most of the time. The perfect touch of comedy in a series that was inevitably bogged down with other things. I was a little disgruntled by the fact that her love affair at the end of series one with Fin (Lorraine Burroughs) was cut off so abruptly, though the reasoning behind their break-up was perhaps sound. However, it felt a little contrived, simply so that Tess could fall for new flatmate Lexy (Anna Skellern) and get her heart broken all over again. I doubt I'm alone in just wanting Tess to be happy. She's by far my favourite character because she's so human and, honestly, just let her find a good woman she loves please.

Sadie (Natasha O'Keeffe) was a surprise returnee from series one. I thought we'd seen the last of her when she split up with Frankie but she slotted nicely into the new flat-share with Tess and Lexy. She took over from Frankie by indulging in some antics that rivalled those of Frankie in series one - there's one scene involving the kitchen counter I can't erase from my mind however hard I try. Her position as the other woman in her relationship with Lauren (Neve McIntosh) worked better than I expected and it was good to see her barriers come down once again - although she was hurt again! Sadie certainly added something to the series and it was good to see evolving friendships between her and flatmates Tess and Lexy.

And now we come to Lexy... It's difficult to say why she failed to make the impression on me I suspect she was designed to. Her 'stalker' storyline was far too tame and much more could've been made from it. I don't think her original attraction to bereaved Sam (Heather Peace) helped me warm to her. Her discussions with Declan (Adam Sinclair), essentially 'the gay Jay', about Sam didn't make the situation any easier. In addition to which, I didn't get a spark between Lexy and Sam at all. Turning them into the couple the viewer was supposed to root for didn't work as far as I'm concerned - it just came across as way of pulling Sam back into a love affair when she was still deeply traumatised by Cat's death and the issues surrounding it. Lip Service always seems to be about sex more than anything else but the best portrayals of sex came when something deeper was involved - think Cat and Sam/Cat and Frankie in series one. What was missing from much of this series, until Sadie began to fall for Lauren, was meaningful sex.

As you can probably tell, I had mixed feelings about this series. I got the sense that it was fragmented; there were no real group scenes to draw everyone together because the group (in the form of Cat, Frankie and Jay) was no longer there. A lot was left unresolved from series one and I feel rather irritated that we spent an entire series riding Frankie's emotional rollercoaster only for her to disappear so abruptly. Equally, while the writers obviously made an effort to show Sam's grief at Cat's death (and I have no issues whatsoever with Heather Peace's excellent portrayal), the scenes at the police station also seemed to be slotted in as and when. For example, the drug deal in the final episode that the police burst in on that goes badly wrong would've been more traumatic if we'd followed the information-gathering for a few weeks and got a sense of the stakes rising. While we knew about Sam's anxiety attacks, the actual breakdown at that point could've been better planned. As with Lexy's hospital scenes, Sam's work life seemed to be a conscious effort to recapture the success of Cat's partnership with Jay and couldn't work simply because the group was so fragmented. It all comes back to that for me. It ceased to be a show about a group of friends and just became a collection of a few pairs.

All that said, I don't want to see it go. I believe that it can be steered away from this blip as Cat's death becomes more and more distant. But I will say one thing: if it is renewed then can the writers trust the characters we've come to know and love? Don't push them into square relationships when they're a circular kind of gal. Mix the indulgent sex with the other kind and don't introduce too many new characters at one point while decimating half the cast. I hope BBC3 renews it, though, and I will be watching if it does. For Tess.