Monday, 30 March 2015

Audiobooks

I received eight copies of the American edition of the A Song for Issy Bradley audiobook at the weekend. I'll be giving most of them away. If you'd like to win a copy, keep an eye on Twitter and/or Facebook in the coming weeks.

Friday, 27 March 2015

Association for Mormon Letters

A Song for Issy Bradley has been shortlisted in the novel category of the Association for Mormon Letters Awards. The AML Awards are for books, stories, films and screenplays by, for, or about Mormons.


Back to writing...

Wednesday, 25 March 2015

Waverton Good Read Award


A Song for Issy Bradley has been shortlisted for the Waverton Good Read Award. It's a really interesting prize - you can read more about it here - and I'm really thrilled to be one of the shortlisted writers. 

Now back to writing...

Sunday, 8 March 2015

Interview with Susmita Bhattacharya

International Women's Day


To celebrate International Women's Day I interviewed debut novelist Susmita Bhattacharya whose book The Normal State of Mind is published this month. The Normal State of Mind has been described as a 'beautiful, evocative book' and 'a new taste of India from a promising new novelist'.   

Can you tell me a little bit about your writing journey?

I remember always writing something, even as a child. Poems, stories especially fan fiction (didn’t know the term then) of Enid Blyton’s Famous Five and I loved illustrating them as well. I moved on to keeping journals as a teenager, and explored writing short stories. I won my school’s annual essay writing competitions a couple of times, but I never regarded being a writer as a possibility. I mean, when I was growing up, one didn’t have social media, lit fests or much interaction with writers. Mostly, the writers were English and dead, eg Austen, Dickens, Shakespeare. The Indian writers like R.K. Narayan and Ruskin Bond were established and favourite writers but I couldn’t imagine being like them. Writers were revered and belonged in another strata which did not include middle-class school girls with a flair for writing. So writing was consigned for my personal pleasure and I went to art college to become a graphic designer.

I started taking writing seriously when we moved to Cardiff. My husband was doing a PhD at Cardiff University and I got hold of their Lifelong Learning brochure. I was so surprised to see Creative Writing classes listed there. My first reaction was, do people need classes to learn to write? That was silly of me to think that way, because when I went to art college, quite a few people would comment, you need to go to college to learn to paint? My child is a born artist! (Or something on those lines).

But I enrolled in an evening class, and it was the best thing I ever did. I found my writing voice and the passion to write. My tutor, Bella Kemble was fantastic. She encouraged me and advised me to think about doing an MA in Creative Writing at Cardiff University. So I did. Creative Writing courses don’t teach people to write, just like Art College. It helps to enhance your writing skills, introduces you to reading a vast array of literature and academic work, eases you into workshops and criticism of your work and puts you in touch with fellow writers and tutors. A fantastic experience I have never regretted.

It was really interesting to read about modern urban Indian women. Do you think they are under-represented in literature? Is that why you chose to set you novel in India rather than in say, Plymouth?

I do think Indian urban women living in India are under-represented in literature. There is a lot of literature about the modern Indian immigrant or women-centric stories set in historical times in India. Manju Kapur is an author I admire who writes about the modern Indian woman and their issues, mostly set in India.

I’ll tell you a funny story about my experience at the writing class. We had to describe a scene from a picture postcard and write a 500 word story based on it. I wrote a very moving story about a man who was tired of life, and decided to stop driving on the motorway and lie down in a field of daffodils... in November. While I was reading aloud about him contemplating life among the flowers, I noticed people trying to be polite and not laugh. Please note, that in India, the seasonal flowers bloom in the winter months. I juxtaposed the settings without thinking much of it, and made such a blunder. And my tutor gave me the best advice ever: Write what you know about. I have taken that very seriously.

I started this novel as a dissertation for my MA. I decided to write about the modern Indian woman because that was me. I wanted to write about issues I faced, or saw happening in front of me. I had first-hand experience of growing up in India amidst the riots, the terror attacks. I also had the experience of having close friendships with strong, independent women and we lived our lives with a lot of freedom to live as we chose to. I wanted to write about all of that.

I lived in Cardiff nearly five years, but I was never confident to write about it. I always set my stories in India. But when I moved to Plymouth, I found myself setting my stories in Cardiff. I live in Plymouth now. Perhaps I’ll have to move before I can write about it. I read an essay by Salman Rushdie, where he says:

‘…exiles or emigrants or expatriates, are haunted by some sense of loss, some urge to reclaim, to look back, even at the risk of being mutated into pillars of salt. But if we do look back, we must do so in the knowledge – which gives rise to profound uncertainties – that our physical alienation from India almost inevitably means that we will not be capable of reclaiming precisely the thing that was lost; that we will, in short, create fictions, not actual cities or villages, but invisible ones, imaginary homelands, Indias of the mind.’ (Rushdie, 1983)

Maybe that’s the thing. One needs to look at a place from a distance to be able to fictionalise it. Not in all cases. But that’s how it was with me.

Moushumi talks about behaving ‘immorally’. Is Moushumi's discomfort based on a religious or a cultural belief about homosexuality? Jasmine talks about how much better things are for gay people in the west - what is it like for gay people in India?   

I think it is more of a cultural belief. The laws against homosexuality were enforced during the British rule in the 19th century as they were ‘against the order of nature’. There is evidence in the temple carvings of ancient India that homosexuality was not looked down upon or marginalised. It was celebrated in various forms, as evident in the art, sculpture and literature of India. In 2009, the Delhi High Court, overturned this 150 year old section and consequently legalised consensual homosexual activities among adults. There was a huge celebration that at last, there was progressive thinking and the LGBT community was being accepted into society. But in December 2013, all that changed and the Supreme Court of India ruled homosexuality as a criminal offence under Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code. Yes, religious figures claimed publicly that being gay was a disease that could be cured through yoga and other means. There were massive protests and eminent people from film stars to economist Amartya Sen and writer, Vikram Seth expressed their disappointment and anger against the ruling, but this law stands firm to date.

People don’t come out for various reasons, besides the Section 377: family won’t accept them, they’d be at risk of losing their jobs, be victimised in homophobic attacks etc. Ignorance is another factor. Homosexuality is often believed to be a disease and people are often taken to ‘doctors’ to be ‘cured’.  A common belief is that marriage will cure it, and many are forced into marriage that ruins the lives of couples involved and their families. There are very few couples, especially women, who can live openly together. A lot of times, a gay person may take on a lover outside of the marriage and try to live a double life. Gay women often discover their sexuality after marriage, and want to explore their new selves, but rarely have there been divorces where the woman leaves the husband to live with her lover.

My PhotoDipali and Sunil have an arranged marriage. It's a happy marriage, how do you feel about arranged marriages?

I don’t have a problem with arranged marriage, they have been successful for generations. That was mostly the norm in my parent’s generation and before that. In India, the family structure includes the grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins etc etc. In the past, and in many cases now as well, most people lived in joint family systems –the brothers with their families, and the parents all lived under one roof. So it was very important that the woman who married into the family was of the same caste, social status, religion to fit into the family without causing disruption. It helped continuity in the lineage. This could only be done with the family arranging the marriages of their sons and daughters with other suitable families. It would be/is done to unite two businesses as well.

There was also a question of dowry. When a woman married, her family paid the groom’s family what they demanded: a car, cash, jewellery, household items, perhaps paying for the groom’s further education abroad. This could happen only when the marriage is arranged, for if the couple fall in love and want to marry, such demands could be difficult to ask for. Though dowry is a criminal offence, most of the people involved go under the radar unless the girl or her family protest and lodge a legal complaint against the perpetrators.

Things started to change in the past when the women could leave the boundaries of the house, get an education and have careers of their own. They could meet single men and fall in love. If they were lucky they got married. Things have changed now. Young people today tend to find their own partners, especially in urban India. But caste, religion and social status are criteria that cannot often be overlooked even today, because in Indian culture, you do not marry a person, you marry the entire family.

Most of my friends have had love marriages, including myself. Some had to fight for their right to be together, for some it wasn’t a problem at all. Some have had arranged marriages, and they have successful marriages as well.  Sometimes both arranged and love marriages fail. It is all very individual. You can think of arranged marriages as what a dating website is in the west. You add in your profile, tick the boxes and it matches you to a suitable person! Only here, the matchmaker could be your parents, uncles, aunts, grandparents, sister-in-law...

Do you see The Normal State of Mind as a feminist novel?

I get asked this question a lot. But I don’t want to put myself or the book into a single category. But I’ve just googled the definition of feminist writing and it says ‘Feminist literature is fiction or nonfiction which supports the feminist goals of defining, establishing and defending equal civil, political, economic and social rights for women.’

So yes, it would be feminist writing, but I’d like people to read it as a story and choose what they’d like to take away from it and how they’d like to categorise it.

Vijayalakshmi Pandit, the first woman politician to hold a cabinet post and diplomat, whose brother happened to be the first prime minister of India, mentioned in a piece in the Ananda Bazaar Patrika (1938): ‘People tell me the modern woman is aggressive. I wonder if this is true. But if it is, she has good reason for it, and her aggression is only the natural outcome of generations of suppression. The first taste of liberty is intoxicating, and for the first time in human history, a woman is experiencing the delights of this intoxication...’ 

When I read this, I thought how true. She wrote this in 1938, we are in 2015 now, and still, the modern woman is fighting... fighting for her rights, fighting for her equal place in society. I realised that be it lesbian or a widow, as Dipali, mentions in the book, women are still identified in relation to a man, or to the lack of one.
It is important to get the struggles women face to own their identity out there in the open. I thought it was always an issue in India, but now when I look at the world, specifically the West, it isn’t much different. Women are still struggling against the ‘laws’ written down by the patriarchal society. That is why Patricia Arquette included the fight to equal pay for women in her acceptance speech at the Academy Awards. That is why millions of Indians gathered to protest against rape and murder of women following Jyoti Singh’s mutilation and rape, consequently death in 2012.

I believe I have much to share about these inequalities and issues that women go through, and hope that my daughters won’t have to go through it in their lives. I hate ‘pinkification’ of girls and all things to do with females, be it Barbie or breast cancer. So yes, you could say I wanted to write about women’s issues. I will not burn my bra or be against men, as you will see in the book, the men are not all bad! But I want to write about women, fairly and honestly, and talk about issues they face in this world.

What does your family think about the novel?

I haven’t let anyone except my husband read it as far as family goes.  And a couple of trusted writer friends. They gave me very relevant and good advice and criticism. I know the LGBT factor raised eyebrows, created interest and curiosity whenever I answered the inevitable question: So what’s your book about? But I never had any negative response.

My family and friends have been very supportive of the book and its subject matter.

What are you working on now?

I have a collection of short stories that I think I am ready to send out to publishers. The short stories deal with the theme of loss in many ways. A man in a city far away from his homeland, writes letters to his pregnant wife, promising her the good life in the west. A woman, whose parrot suddenly takes on the voice of her dead husband; a woman who joins her husband to a fancy business dinner but craving her simple home cooked meal at home; a couple who mourn their stillborn in very different ways.

I’m working on another novel but it’s too early to comment on it now.

Thank you for answering the questions in such detail, and the very best of luck with The Normal State of Mind

You can read more about Susmita in this lovely piece in the Plymouth Herald


My writing life

Wednesday, 28 January 2015

Costa Awards Ceremony

Last night I went to the Costa Book Awards ceremony at Quaglino's. I'm so glad I went, I had such a lovely time. Congratulations to Helen Macdonald who won Costa Book of the Year for H is for Hawk and to Zoe Gilbert for winning the Costa short story prize.



Here are my Best Bits (subtitled: How not to be Cool at an Award Ceremony).

When I arrived at Quaglino's they had pictures of all the shortlisted books on either side of the entrance, which meant I had to get my lovely editor to take a photograph of me. If there was audio with this picture you'd be able to hear her very gently saying, 'You don't need to point to your book, Carys.'

Quaglino's is beautiful. It's very James Bond. See the picture of the bathroom below. I know - it's massively uncool to take a picture of the lovely bathroom (it gets worse...).



Here's the edge of the stage where they announced the category winners (previously revealed) and the winner of the Costa Book of the Year (decided on the night). Robert Harris gave a short speech before the announcement of the winner, prompting cheers when he remarked that BBC book coverage is a 'disgrace'. He pointed out that there were two dedicated book programmes when we had three channels, but now, with over 300 channels, there isn't even one.

The highlight of the evening for me was meeting Ali Smith, who very kindly listened as I told her about the gushing letter I wrote when I was an Open University student - I'd watched her talking about Sunset Song on one of the Open University dvds and I loved her enthusiasm (and Sunset Song) so much that I went to my local library (which has since closed - you ought to be ashamed, Sefton Council) and borrowed her short story collections. I adored them so much that I decided to write to her, but the letter sounded silly when I read it back, so I never sent it.

No-one writes a close, third person as beautifully as Ali Smith. The Accidental and How to be Both are extraordinary books. When I read Smith's short stories, years ago, I never dreamed for a second that one day I might actually write something worth publishing and end up meeting her.

The whole evening was like something out of a film. Wherever I looked there were young men and women holding champagne bottles and trays of canapes, filling glasses that weren't even half-emptied and encouraging people to try one of these, oh, and one of these, too. I had to exercise some restraint as I was already unsteady on my feet thanks to the enormous heels I was wearing, though I may or may not have purloined some of the Costa marshmallows (posh marshmallows, who knew?!) for the kids. 

Oh all right, I admit it - I did, and here they are.



Afterwards, I bought a pizza and went back to my Travelodge, goodie bag in tow (containing a copy of Five Children on the Western Front and a Costa gift card) and I sat on the bed (with slightly numb feet - how do women wear heels regularly?) feeling happy: happy to have been to the ceremony, happy to have been shortlisted, happy to have a lovely editor, agent, publicist and publisher - exceedingly happy and lucky*.  


*A friend of mine recently said that my blog is always cheerful (it wasn't a compliment). It's hard to get the balance of this internet stuff right - how to be happy without appearing smug? Of course, other, less exciting things are also happening in my life: today I'll be having beans on toast for tea, followed by an early night as tomorrow I'll be doing a 6:30 am paper round for son 1 who still can't lift following last week's surgery. I have 20 essays to mark, I have PhD rewrites to do and, next week, I'll be having a small investigatory operation *crosses fingers*. And those things make last night even more special.

Monday, 12 January 2015

Sweet Home on Radio Four Extra




Five short stories from Sweet Home will be broadcast on BBC Radio 4 Extra during the week beginning 19th January. I haven't heard them in advance, so I'm really looking forward to listening. 


Monday 19th: 'Everything a Parent Needs to Know.'
Tuesday 20th: 'Sweet Home.'











Wednesday 21st: 'Scaling Never'
Thursday 22nd: 'The Rescue'
Friday 23rd: 'Under Covers'

Monday, 5 January 2015

Costa Thoughts

Warmest congratulations to Emma Healey on winning the Costa First Novel Award.

If someone had told me a year ago that A Song for Issy Bradley would be shortlisted for the award I wouldn't have believed them. I still feel excited about it - in fact, here's a picture of me feeling excited about it (and insisting that everyone else in the vicinity also be excited about it). 




I wasn't sure whether reading the other novels on the shortlist was a masochistic thing to do, but when I received them - a gift of two halves; 2 novels for my birthday and 2 for Christmas (and yes, that means that Neil actually gifted me me a copy of my own novel - another classic present to add to the list) - it seemed silly not to enjoy them (or, at least, to enjoy the 3 novels I didn't write), especially as this may well be the only time I ever find myself on a prize shortlist.




Elizabeth is Missing by Emma Healey
Elizabeth is Missing is a heart-breaking, intelligent novel. Maud is forgetting things - cups of tea, the way to the shops, her daughter's face - but she is certain of something: her friend Elizabeth is missing. Maud's world is meticulously drawn, meaning that as her narration becomes less reliable, the reader has to fill in the gaps. And these gaps are achingly sad. The final chapters, in particular, are beautifully drawn and, although the reader is incredibly moved by Maud's deteriorating condition and the long-anticipated solving of the mystery, Healey's prose remains skillfully understated and unsentimental. A cracking read. 

Academy Street by Mary Costello
Mary Costello's debut reminds me of both Anne Enright's The Gathering and Tessa Hadley's Clever Girl. The novel begins with a bereavement and takes the form of a series of beautifully observed, deceptively quiet vignettes as it follows the course of Tess Lohan's life I was aware of Costello's earlier collection of short stories China Factory (which will feature on Radio 4 Extra, 12th - 16th January) and so it came as no surprise to find that many chapters of Academy Street were reminiscent of the measured, restrained stories I admire in The New Yorker - Costello's eye for detail and illuminating prose make this an enjoyable and thought-provoking read. 

Chop Chop by Simon Wroe
I knew I'd love this book by page 2. Told in Monocle's witty, knowing, voice and edited by 'Racist Dave' (who put a brick through the Salford branch of Blacks 'before he realised it was a camping store') and ape-loving trouble-maker Ramilov, Chop Chop is chock-full of visceral descriptions and gorgeous, biting characterisation. It took me a while to get through it because I kept pausing to read funny bits aloud to members of my family. But this novel is not just an entertaining romp; it's a story about loss and revenge, family and belonging, and, in addition to the chaos and hilarity, readers will be sure to find a meaty pleasure in the language itself. 

So, how do I feel having read these 3 novels? 

Happy. Not only did I enjoy each writer's work, I feel tremendously pleased and flattered to have been included on the same shortlist as them, and I'll be looking out for their next books.

Wednesday, 31 December 2014

Some thank yous

As we say goodbye to 2014, I feel tremendously fortunate. 

Thank you to everyone at Hutchinson for taking such good care of A Song for Issy Bradley, and in particular to my editor Jocasta Hamilton and publicist Charlotte Bush. I had so much fun doing all sorts of things I'd never done before - best bits included appearing on BBC Radio 3's The Verb and Radio 4's Front Row, festivals at Cheltenham, Wells, Sheffield and Dundee, and a trip to Waverton, a village that awards an annual prize for a debut novel

Thanks to the lovely writers who read my novel and gave cover quotes. Thanks to BBC Radio 4 for choosing A Song for Issy Bradley to be Book at Bedtime and to my agent Veronique Baxter. And a huge thank you to the fantastic independent bookshops that invited me to participate in events. 

Thank you to my PhD supervisors and examiners for reading my work and encouraging me to stretch myself. 

Thank you to Sunstone and Jenn Ashworth for an exciting few days in August at the University of Utah and thank you to Retreats for You and Sarah Franklin for a lovely week in September.











Thank you to the NHS and Alder Hey hospital for some pretty life changing surgery for one of my children. Thank you to the Ronald McDonald House for giving me a place to stay. 

An anticipatory thank you for the surgery that's due to happen next month for a different child.

Also, big thanks to the NHS for looking after my little sister and performing the emergency cesarean on Christmas morning that saw my gorgeous new nephew Reggie arrive in the world, safe and sound. 

Thanks to my lovely husband for always trying to think up interesting birthday presents (if my sisters are reading this, I can guarantee they're already laughing at memories of birthdays past)... you really outdid yourself this year. The life-size canvas of the Issy Bradley tube poster is, well, enormous. It's also prime short story fodder (a la The Yellow Wallpaper) - I fully expect it to begin speaking to me in the coming weeks: I'm watching you. Think you can write a second novel? Bwah-ha-ha... etc.

Finally, a mahoosive thank you to everyone who read and reviewed my novel. Whether you loved or hated it, thank you for taking the time to firstly think and secondly write about it. I'm immensely grateful. Happy New Year!

Tuesday, 23 December 2014

Books I loved in 2014

Here are some of the books I read and loved in 2014. In no particular order...

I loved this book. 
Perhaps I loved it because I have driven through the night to be at my brother's bedside. Maybe I loved it because I have listened, with clenched fists, to the news that he has, once again, been discharged from hospital, despite not being mentally well enough to remember to eat or change his clothes. I may have loved this book because I've regularly felt infuriated and hurt by my brother's refusal to make even the smallest attempt to accept treatment. It could be that I loved this book because as I read it I felt the horror of someone else's helplessness and realised that it was similar to my own. This novel made me cry and it made me laugh; it reminded me that humour that can be found in the darkest of places.   

In July 2012 Thomas Harding's fourteen-year-old son Kadian was killed in a bicycle accident. Shortly afterwards Thomas began to write. This book is the result. Part tribute, part lament, Kadian Journal is a precise and heart-breaking account of bereavement. It's a raw, uncompromising and, at times, uncomfortable book. Harding details a loss that is both unimaginable and unbearable - Kadian Journal made me hug my children a little harder, and it made me want to hug Harding and his family, too.  





This is everything you'd expect from Smith: deft, clever and elegant. How to be Both is divided into 2 sections. Some editions begin with one section and some begin with the other. My edition began with Francesco and concluded with George. I'm glad it did. I *think* it's the way I would have preferred it to be. But I'm not 100% certain - how could I be certain, having read Francesco and George's musings about the different ways of seeing and looking, and whether the first thing we see can really be described as 'first'? - I'll never really know for sure. And I like that. 




Clever Girl is a fragmentary novel that follows the trajectory of Stella's life. Written in beautiful, clear prose, and rich with carefully observed detail, it's exactly what you'd expect from Hadley. 









I know, I know - I can't believe it took me so long to read this, either. What an incredible novel. I've rarely felt so enraged while reading. I could have cheerfully murdered Nathan Price - I didn't care about his demons or his traumatic past, I just wanted to thump him. This novel is told by the long-suffering women in Nathan Price's life. It's a gorgeous exploration of the toxicity of patriarchy, the dangers of fundamentalism and the abuses of colonialism.  




4473
'WHAT A WONDERFUL BOOK' (see what I did there?). Irving explores doubt and faith in this darkly comic novel. When Owen Meany kills his best friend's mother in a baseball game, he convinces himself that he is an instrument of God. This is a long novel - at times I had no idea where it was going, but I didn't really care because Owen Meany was so interesting and strange, and I *really* wanted to know what happened to him. I found the ending incredibly moving (if a little too neat) as several things suddenly made sense. 




Cusk expertly conveys the unsaid and the unsayable in these linked stories. I love her observations regarding the ways in which woman are changed (and, in some cases, ravaged) by motherhood. Take this passage, for example: 'For Martin, her body was like a village that over time had sprawled and grown until it became a bustling centre, cut through with new roads and modern developments, some of them unsightly. It had changed, but it was where he lived.' Arlington Park reminded me of Helen Simpson's delicious prose. I read it while son 2 was in hospital in early November and I found myself playing the 'just one more page' game at night, even though I really needed to get to sleep. 


As Terry Tempest Williams’ mother lay dying she said, ‘I am leaving you all my journals… but you must promise me that you will not look at them until after I am gone.' After her mother died, Williams discovered three shelves of clothbound journals. ‘I opened the first journal. It was empty. I opened the second journal. It was empty. I opened the third. It, too was empty, as was the fourth, the fifth, the sixth – shelf after shelf after shelf, all my mothers’ journals were blank.' The blow of the empty journals was like ‘a second death’ to Williams who describes her own journal keeping as a way of experiencing each encounter in life twice: ‘once in the world, and once again on the page.' This book is Williams' response to her mother's empty journals. 


Twelve elegant, subtle and satisfying short stories from the winner of this year's Edge Hill Prize.












Reading in 2015

Since A Song for Issy Bradley was published I've received numerous novel proofs in the post and more email requests for cover quotes than I can recall. At the moment I don't have the time to read proofs - it's really frustrating because reading is my favourite thing to do and I'd usually relish the idea of peeping at books before everyone else gets to see them. The thing is, I have some corrections to make before my PhD graduation in May 2015 and another of my children is having surgery in January (son 1, this time) which means I'll have 2 slightly fragile teenagers to care for (son 2 is on light duties until early spring), and a daily paper round to complete until son 1 is allowed to ride a bike and carry a bag again, which probably won't be before mid March (argh!). And, of course, I'm supposed to be writing a novel. That leaves me with very little time to read anything other than the things I absolutely *have* to read. So to anyone who has sent, or is about to send me a proof, please don't take it personally if I don't get around to reading it in the near future - I hope to catch up with myself eventually, but it may take some time.