If you’re an avid reader of detective fiction, you may already be familiar with the famous Pinkerton’s detective agency, founded in the USA in the nineteenth century by Scottish immigrant Allan Pinkerton. What started as a one-man operation eventually grew into the largest private detective and law enforcement agency in the world. To my amazement, it lives on as a subsidiary of Sweden’s Securitas group – who knew?!
For over sixteen years, I’ve been writing a monthly column for two local community magazines, the Tetbury Advertiser and the Hawkesbury Parish News. Around the middle of each month, I’d down tools to dash off 500 words for each paper – a different article for each of them – to meet their deadlines. I’ve loved every minute of it – even when it meant burning the midnight oil to fit it into my busy schedule. But the time has come to step down to allow more time for other projects.
In motoring terms, if there’s one thing worse that breaking down during rush hour on a roundabout, it’s breaking down during rush-hour on a double roundabout. As I know, having done both, 40 years apart. For both incidents, the clutch was to blame.
The first time, a loose connection silently leaked clutch fluid in my wake on my morning commute to Queen Square before I ground to halt at Stokes Croft. I could hardly believe what was happening. This was my brand-new company car, a cute metallic green Renault 5, of which I’d proudly taken delivery only the previous day. Although this was before the age of mobile phones enabling drivers to call for help, the timing was on my side. Almost immediately, a traffic officer arrived on the scene to investigate the cause of the bottleneck.
“What seems to be the problem, madam?” he asked kindly, noticing my visible distress.
“It’s my birthday!” I sobbed, which was true. “It’s not fair!”
Continue reading “A Tale of Two Clutch Failures: What I Learned When My Car Broke Down”
On the last Wednesday of every month, I share a conversation with an author friend, and this month I’m delighted to introduce you to novelist Hastie Salih.
I first met Hastie Salih last year at the London Festival of Writing, which is Jericho Writers‘ annual get-together, bringing together a huge variety of authors at different stages of their careers in a highly creative and supportive atmosphere. I’m involved as a speaker and advisor because I’m a mentor and course tutor for Jericho Writers – roles I adore, partly because I love helping other authors and partly because it introduces me to so many new author friends, such as Hastie Salih.
When Hastie told me about her books, set partly in London and partly in Iraq, featuring women of Kurdistani heritage like herself, and addressing complex issues of cultural and gender identity, I was intrigued. The stunning cover of her debut novel, Dahlia and Carys, was a bonus, and I immediately ordered a copy, followed by her second novel, The Cradle and the Cage, as soon as it was published. I also knew that I wanted to invite her onto my blog to tell us more about her work, exploring important, under-represented issues.
Reading The Tenant of Wildfell Hall and Agnes Grey for the first time has promoted Anne Brontë to position of my favourite Brontë sister. It has also given me a new appreciation of Sarah Gordon’s play, Underdog: The Other Other Brontë, a gripping tale of the sisterly support and sibling rivalry between the three famous authors, Charlotte, Emily and Anne Brontë, usually lauded in that order.
Like most people, I first read Charlotte’s Jane Eyre and Emily’s Wuthering Heights for the first time at school, and wasn’t especially taken by either of them. Perhaps that why I had never gone out of my way to read Anne Brontë’s two novels before.
But I’d booked tickets to see a new production of Anne Brontë’s The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Lucy Gough in Aberystwyth next month, and laid low with a virus that stopped me from doing anything more physically demanding than reading a book, it seemed a good idea to swot up a bit beforehand and try it.
I suspect this was also a silent protest against the ubiquitous hype for the new film of “Wuthering Heights”. Yes, the title includes the inverted commas as shorthand to suggest how loosely the film is based on the original. As one reviewer wrote (whose name escapes me), it’s more a kind of 50 Shades in Crinolines than a faithful portrayal of the novel. Sigh.
To my surprise and delight, I soon found myself gripped by the story-within-a-story of the mysterious new tenant of the title, begun by a neighbour who is smitten with her, before being taken up and completed by the tenant herself. It begins almost as a social comedy, a bit like the opening of Pride and Prejudice, but with the new arrival a woman instead of a man – but then turns much darker.
I won’t go in to the details of the story – I’ll leave you to discover those for yourself – but I was blown away by the compelling storytelling, the staunch feminist tone, and the frank depiction of how utterly women were constrained and controlled in Anne Brontë’s era, and ultimately by the very satisfying ending.
As with Anne Brontë’only other novel Agnes Grey, which I couldn’t resist starting as soon as I’d finished The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, the heroine is sustained by a strong Christian faith. As a Christian myself, that was fine by me, but if you’re not a practising Christian, don’t let that put you off. Such adversity might turn any woman to faith of some kind, when little else exists in their lives to sustain them.
As you probably know, all three Brontë sisters died tragically young, Anne Brontë at the age of 29. How I wish she’d lived to a ripe old age – how many other great novels she might have written then.
Although Anne Brontë’s novels were long less favoured than her sister’s – and Underdog explains why – I’m pleased that they’ve both crept up in popularity over the years and now rank as great classics of English literature.
From the box office description of Lucy Gough’s new adaptation, I’m confident that her play will do Anne Brontë justice. I just hope that the producers of “Wuthering Heights” don’t add a film version to their to-do list.
I’m pleased to announce that thanks to my excellent agent Ethan Ellenberg and his team, I’ve just received a Japanese translation offer for Death at the Old Curiosity Shop. I’m always thrilled to know my books are reaching readers in languages other than the original English. They’re also available now or soon will be in German, Russian, and Italian.
In collaboration with my editor at Boldwood Books, I’ve now confirmed the title of the fourth cosy mystery in my Cotswold Curiosity Shop series: Death at the Village Garden Party. I do like to know the title before I start writing – and I’m now 13k words into it (out of a target of 60k, the usual length of my novels), and having great fun dreaming up a garden party that will, naturally, go horribly wrong. This book is already up for pre-order on Amazon here, and will launch on 5th July 2026.
In the meantime, I’m writing a short story that will serve as an introduction to the launch of my new standalone, The Importance of Being Murdered, which will be published on 26th March. The story will be available from Boldwood Books to whet your appetite – once I’ve written it!
