Members’ News
My debut novel, The Candidate’s Husband, is out next month.
It’s contemporary political fiction set in the north of England – Hull to be precise. When headteacher Kirsty’s local MP resigns after a sex scandal, she’s set on running in the by-election to replace him. She seems the ideal Labour candidate – hard working, ambitious and with excellent working-class credentials. Only her husband Rick is unconvinced. For behind every successful woman stands a resentful man…
The book’s available in print from the usual places or direct from the publishers. There’s also an audiobook version, narrated by Sarah Durham and Liam Gerrard, and available via Audible, Libro and similar platforms. More information on my website.
– Wendy Jones (writing as Wendy Sacks Jones)
I’m very pleased that one of my poems has been published in the latest edition of Magma, which is on the theme of liberation. My poem, titled 9 January 1663, is about Samuel Pepys’ destruction of his wife Elizabeth’s attempt at diary keeping – an incident that outraged me when I first came across it as a student and has continued to haunt me. I was invited to talk about and perform the poem at the online launch of the Magma issue, alongside poets including Luke Worthy, AV Bridgwood and Alice S. Yousef. You can order copies of the magazine at https://magmapoetry.com/
9 January 1663
He’s suspected it for some time. A scratching behind her door –
not mice, a sound that’s distinctly quill-like. A flat parcel,
hurriedly slipped among the underthings in her drawer.
A blur of black on her fingertip. And now she proves him right:
stands up at the breakfast table, pulls out a bundle of papers
and begins to read aloud.
How would he describe it? A tirade, a list of grievances,
a tally of the restrictions of her days. Her face is flushed,
her hair askew, recklessness in the curve of her lip.
He snatches the papers, takes a swipe at her,
not so hard as she deserves but hard enough to heat his palm.
A glance shows him childish penmanship, words half-formed and disjointed,
spelling out his supposed wrongs. He’d laugh, if he wasn’t so angry.
It’s as if the cat had begun to write. Slept. Drank milk. Caught a bird.
Fixing her with his eye he begins to rip, one page at a time,
with slow emphasis to thrust the point home.
She will not get round him with her tears and wails.
That night, he takes out his diary, sharpens his quill,
dips the white point into the dark well.
– Jill Hopper
Members’ Recommendations
I have a super book recommendation. It is called Invisible Intelligence by Welby Ings. Ings is a professor in design at Auckland University of Technology. He is an elected Fellow of the British Royal Society of Arts and a consultant to many international organizations on issues of creativity and learning. He is also an award-winning academic, designer, filmmaker and playwright.
While it is non-fiction, the joy of it is in the true stories and examples of the different kinds of intelligences. The subtitle is Why your children might to be failing but you don’t need to have children to get a great deal out of this book regarding intelligence in all its wonderful forms. Keep a tissue handy.
Nga mihi,
– Sue Heggie
Just finishing Pachinko. I know, I’m five years behind everyone else.
But thought I should mention that the tour of A Christmas Carol starts next week. If anyone fancies it, it would be lovely to see them.
Details, dates and trailer at
dickensachristmascarol.co.uk
– Vincent Franklin