Thoughts on Book Clubs and Women's Fiction

For many years I’ve been a member of a ladies’ book club. We’re all middle-aged with one or more aspects of our lives in common: teenagers or young adult children, jobs varying in pressures and fulfilment, husbands facing redundancy or career changes, and increasing responsibilities for our parents. At the same time, we're also facing the joint onslaughts of the loss of youth and age-related health problems. We’re a strong, supportive group with individual and yet universal problems that unite us beyond our mutual love of books. Our meetings are filled with lively, vocal discussions that sometimes go on until the early hours of the morning on just about any topic.

Except the books that brought us together in the first place.

It’s not that we never discuss our chosen books; it’s just that we so rarely discover a book that all of us have read and enjoyed to the very end that it warrants discussing it for any length of time. And forcing ourselves to read a novel to impress or to satisfy some quasi-intellectual need isn't necessary: We know each other too well. So, by the time we’ve got past the excuses: “I was too exhausted to read it,” (any lengthy literary novel); “It was too depressing,” (any novel featuring a child killer); “It was so predictable I watched a rerun of The Professionals instead," (any book with “teashop” in the title); and “How did this get on the Man Booker shortlist? My navel fluff is more interesting,” usually we're left with very few books that meet all our expectations.

Now I don’t want to make my friends sound uneducated or overly fussy because they’re neither. We have occasionally talked at length about some great books: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian, The Help and so on. But what these particular books have in common, despite their literary statuses, is that they're easy to pick up and put down but are still absorbing enough to be entertaining and informative.

There is, of course, a lot of “women’s fiction” that is worthy of discussion which never grabs the headlines like the more literary novels. Anything by Jodi Picoult ticks that box, as would undercover successes like The Memory Book or Me Before You. These are the type of books that many women enjoy. They're books which don't require a degree or in-depth analysis to appreciate. They're emotive, engaging and frequently explore situations or moral dilemmas that create food for thought and conversation. To women with busy, exhausting lives these easy-to-read but captivating books are a gift because, after a harrowing day, not many of us want to face the challenges of Hilary Mantel or David Mitchell.


It was with these thoughts that I set about writing The Changing Room. But I also wanted to factor in one further element and write not just an easy-to-read and thought-provoking novel that would be appreciated by the ladies of my book club, but a humorous one. It would have an older heroine that readers would empathise with but who also did things they’ve wanted to do but haven’t quite had the courage or opportunity. A woman who would make them laugh and cry and, hopefully, inspire them.

I'm not sure why there is so little meaningful comedy fiction available for older women, but certainly finding any agent or publisher actively looking for any humorous writing that isn't a Christmas coffee table book, chick lit or dry literary humour is like finding the proverbial needle in a haystack. Nevertheless, I was determined that it shouldn’t just be girls or academics who have fun in literature, but mature women too.

And so I created 45-year-old Sandy Lovett: mother, wife, carer and sex-chat expert. A resilient woman with a sense of humour and a strong moral, social and political conscience who was changing direction in her life.  A woman, I hoped, whose character and story would appeal to the ladies of my book club long enough to make it through several bottles of wine and a selection of exotic nuts.

Only time will tell if I have succeeded in my mission. But whatever the reception for Sandy Lovett, I will always hold the same affection for her as I do my book club ladies. All of them ordinary women, just like you and me, living their own extraordinary lives.

This article originally appeared on Random Things Through My Letterbox .

Podcast excerpt of The Changing Room read by Simon Denham

Summer is upon us. (Well until about 10pm tonight when the thunderstorms and torrential downpours are due.) So I am out in the garden erecting fences with Mr T who is driving me mad off work.

An author's job is never done. Sigh. Expect the sequel to my novel in about 2020.

In the meantime, here is a excerpt of The Changing Room read by Simon Denham of Readers in the Know, a place where you can find lots of books that you might never otherwise discover. Simon reads from a selection of the books from Readers in the Know and you can find his frequent podcasts on itunes. If you sign up for notifications for books and offers via Readers in the Know there is also the opportunity to win a $100.00. Yay! That's my kind of competition - no having to think up a 25 word byline for a product you have no interest in. Just stick your name into a draw! What's not to like?

You can also follow Readers in the Know via Facebook.

I hope you enjoy the excerpt!

Reality is Dangerous

I know you all thought I was dead. But I still have a few years left in me. So says my taxidermist.

So what have I been doing?

I am not sure - but in the last week I forgot the dentists (again), broke down in Mr T's car and was stuck on the A5 for 3 hours in the dark with Master Jacob only wearing his tennis shorts, the central heating system failed, the school rang me for a second time to remind me about the forms that Master Ben has failed to hand in since September and I gained 1lb in weight despite having gone swimming six (yes SIX) times.

In addition the upstairs bathroom light only works after twenty pulls and the downstairs one blows all the fuses.

Just an ordinary week for Mrs T then.

The good news is the plumber has already come and fixed the central heating. The electrician is coming at 1am, the car is at the garage and I have started a diet.

Everything else is not resolved.

And that was just last week. You don't want to know about the preceding weeks.

Now, sadly, there has been a lot that I have wanted to talk about here on my blog in those missing weeks. Even sadder is that I now can't actually remember what those subjects were. And as a writer who has about 100 notebooks (but who doesn't write in any of them) that is shameful. Still, with any luck, it will all come back to me and there will be a whirlwind of activity on this blog.

Anyway, I have two things to mention.

Firstly, this coming Sunday, I am at the Indie Author Fair in Chorleywood, Hertfordshire where I will reading from my novel and pretending to be a bestselling author.

Anyone who splits on me will be knifed. That's not spits - but splits. Anyone who spits will feel the wrath of my tongue - and that is probably worse than a knife.

Secondly, my novel The Changing Room is available free as part of the Choosy Read and Review Programme - where I give you a free mobi file for Kindle and you give my book an honest and impartial review on Amazon or elsewhere. Now, in my opinion, that is a absolute fantastic bargain - my work of (dubious) genius in exchange for a couple of lines on Amazon. What could be better? Further, I am going to make a tempting offer - anyone who writes to The Guardian telling them they ought to review The Changing Room gets a pair of my old tights and a Christmas hat. It's an offer I know some of you won't be able to refuse. There is so much you can do with a pair of my old tights - hold up David Cameron for instance. I mean - who wouldn't love to see him on his knees begging for mercy whilst you pocketed his Rolex. I know I would.

Well that's it. Accept to say - I would welcome any notebooks for Christmas as I am trying to build a dam in the beaver compound at London Zoo and Mr Beaver has already complained that I am not collecting notebooks fast enough.

Don't be fooled by their cute looks - beavers can be bolshy little bastards.

To be British, is to be Patient - Ten Examples of British Stoicism

I may have talked about this before - a peculiar characteristic of being British is being very patient and stoic even in the most difficult of times. But I am going to revisit this subject again as needs must. You'll find out why later. I would say I am a very patient person - although I am getting less so as I get older as my tolerance to ignorance grows shorter. (Please refer to the 500+ posts on this blog for details.)

So anyway enough about me. Lets look at some examples of this peculiar British habit:

1.

It goes without saying that at the top of the examples list is the British habit of waiting patiently in a queue. Sometimes people wait in queues for whole days outside Harrods at sale-time or sleep on the pavements outside Buckingham Palace for a glimpse of HRH. There is no greater crime in the UK than queue-jumping. Try it and you will be met with scathing looks or, at the very least, whispers about being mentally unstable, drunk or "not from around here." If you are in the doctors, dentists or hospital waiting room the conversation will always be about what position you are in the queue:

"He's first, I'm second, so you must be after the woman in the polka dot dress who's third."

"But my appointment is 10.30 and your card says 10.40."

"You were late. You've missed your place in the queue."

2. 

You're covered in blue welts, have ear ache, gangrene in one foot and ulcers on your tongue:

"Why don't you go to the doctors?"

"There's nothing wrong with me. If I'm not better in a few days I'll book an appointment."

3.

You've been waiting in the queue at the newsagents with a copy of  The Daily Mail and a pint of milk for thirty minutes. You didn't really want The Daily Mail but the pictures of the front caught your eye and the pint of milk is going sour but you did really want a lottery ticket and a packet of Benson and Hedges ciggies. You get to the front of the queue and:

"I'll have two lucky dips and a packet of Benson and Hedges."

"I'm afraid the lottery machine's just broken down."

"Oh. Just the Benson and Hedges then."

"I'm afraid I've just sold the last three packets to the man with the walking stick."

"I'll have a packet of Gillette razors."

4.

You're sitting outside your child's reception classroom. Your appointment was at 6.45 pm and it's now 7.55 pm. You've missed your favourite soap opera and peed on your trousers because you could only find the kids loos and your bladder was bursting. The teacher bounces to the door wearing her Jesus sandals, flowered smock and a daisy chain around her neck.

"Who's next?"

You leap up overjoyed: "I am!"

The woman next to you bursts into tears: "I can't wait any longer. My mother's in hospital and my husband goes on night shift in thirty minutes."

You sit back down with a thump. "You can go first."

The teachers wraps her arms around the other parent and give you an encouraging wink. You open up your bag and take a Sudoku puzzle and fill in random numbers whilst you imagine torching the school.

5.

Your ring British Telecommunications (BT) for the twentieth time to tell them your mother died three years ago, you no longer own that property and to stop harassing you for an outstanding payment you don't even owe.

"Oh, I see. I quite understand the problem. I'll just transfer you to someone who deals with this..."

" No! Wait......"

*Music plays*

6.

You go to the hairdresser and ask for a "few light waves" to add a bit of bounce to your thinning hair. Ninety minutes later you look into the mirror and see you transformed from a middle-aged, white middle class woman into a young Michael Jackson. You politely thank the hairdresser and walk to the nearest alternative hairdresser and ask them to cut it all off. Three months later, after you've spent thirty minutes smoothing down the last of the curls with extra strong gel, you open your Sudoku puzzle book and randomly fill out the numbers whilst fantasying about torching the hairdressers.

Your confidence can really be affected when you get the wrong haircut. If you're like me and get an  unexpected afro it ain't so bad as you can say you're a big fan of MJ and you're going to a rock-star fancy dress party. Unfortunately, the  gentleman above couldn't use the same excuse as his haircut made him look like Justin Beiber.

7.

You been waiting for fifteen minutes in the queue at the petrol station. When you finally pull up at the pump, just as you get out of your car the attendant appears and puts the "empty" sign on the diesel. You get back into your car, drive out of the station and onto the next petrol station. When you get there is it closed due to "Unforeseen circumstances." You drive home without the air conditioning on, trying to not to brake or speed and wondering whether you have a new book of Sudoku puzzles.

8.

You are just about to step on the 9.30 am train to London for a day's shopping, revisiting old haunts and tea with your best friend from college who you haven't seen for twenty years when your phone rings:

"Hello."

"Mrs Turley?"

"Yes?"

"I'm afraid Ben fell over and has a slight scratch on one of his fingernails and the hairs on his eyebrows look slightly out of place."

"Is he concussed?

"I don't think so."

"Is he bleeding?"

"No"

"Well he sounds okay. And as I'm just about to step on the train to London and I've already bought my ticket can you send him back to class, please."

"I really think you should come. It could turn into something serious."

*Long pause*

"Are you there, Mrs Turley?"

"Yes."

"Well we see you in thirty minutes then. I'll give Ben a cold compress."

9.

You ring BT and get cut off. You ring BT and get cut off. You ring BT and get cut off. You ring BT and get through to customer services and just as you tell them your problem you get cut off. You ring BT, you get through, tell them your problem and then you get put on hold. After ten minutes on hold a man comes on line and you tell him your problem again. He says "You've come through to the wrong department, I'll transfer you."

 *Music plays*

10.

You order the proof copy of your (stunning) début novel from the US. You are thrilled at the prospect of it arriving on the 9th June. On the 16th of June you are still throwing open the door with girlish optimism but sadly, it still doesn't arrive. You put the delays down to customs having a good read of the naughty bits and remember what your parents said about patience being a virtue. On the 23rd June you finally ring the US and discover your book has not even been sent. They claim it has been "lost en route" but you know better because you've looked up the tracking information. You gratefully accept the $15.00 dollar refund for the express dispatch fee and decide to invest in a new Sudoku book.

Subject to no further delays and my proof copy arriving with no further hitches I shall be launching The Changing Room on Tuesday July 1st. And yes The Changing Room is already online as an eBook but on the 2/3 of July I will be offering it at a reduced price to encourage all you good people to buy and help push it up the Amazon charts. In the meantime, if you live in the UK and want to splash out the few extra pence, you can get ahead in a little competition I shall be giving details of later in the week by purchasing and reviewing The Changing Room on Amazon.co.uk.

And now for a break. It's been another disappointing day. Time to be patient and stoic (with the aid of some very nice chocolate and a glass of vino.)

Paperback Cover to The Changing Room

The final cover for the paperback version of The Changing Room has arrived. You can see pre-barcoded version below. I think it's fantastic and on a par, if not better, than many of the traditionally published women's novels. It just what I wanted - something unique and with an almost seaside-postcard feel that will hopefully create interest from both men and women.

I've added a little clothes tag-style ticket to the upper left-hand corner of the rear cover which reads " A book club novel." This is because I believe The Changing Room is an ideal novel for book clubs as it incorporates many themes for discussion. (Although probably not in my book club where we prefer to discuss the choice of wine and latest village scandals.) So I've also included a book club section at the rear which includes bullet points for discussion and a Q & A section with me where I waffle on in my usual dubious manner.

The principle theme of my novel is "change" as suggested by the title. This is "change" as an individual that stems from the choices we make in our lives when faced with big decisions. In the case of my heroine, Sandy, these are crucial decisions such as whether or not to place her mother in a care home and how she will deal with the failing family business. But there are also deeper strands to the novel which I hope will open up discussion about how we deal with problems such as age and senility, not just on an individual basis, but also in the wider context of government and politics. The antagonist in my book, the unscrupulous local politician Trewin Thackeray, is another talking point whose dastardly behaviour I hope will generate conversation amongst readers about whether or not there should be "change" in the way MPs are recruited and how governments conduct their business.

I suppose, ultimately, I've written a book I wanted to read and, interpreting my friends' favourite book club choices,  what they might want to read too - a book which is light and fun but underneath addresses some serious issues. I've felt that this is an element missing from the women's market with publishers rarely taking a chance on "fun" fiction except when it's romance-oriented and, more often than not, in the chick-lit style. Jo Jo Moyes Me Before You is a rare exception to this but even that was a set within the boundaries of an almost-conventional romance. As for the comedic elements of my novel -  from a personal perspective I feel I'm probably pushing the comedic boundaries much further than current mainstream novels. But that is the freedom that self-publishing has given me - to take a chance on what I believe women may enjoy reading and not feel constrained by agents' and publishers' preferences.

Okay that's it for today. I only have to wait for approval and for the proof copies. Once I've approved them I can hit the publish button and a few days later the paperback will be available to order. In the meantime, if there's any of you out there who are book reviewers, librarians, are part of a book group or have a blog and would like to receive a free ebook, gifted via Amazon, of The Changing Room or A Modern Life in exchange for honest, impartial reviews on Amazon and/or Goodreads or on your blog please do get in touch via my contact page.

I'm nearly there now. Phew.

And just to keep you updated my next blog will be on a topic which is not close to my heart but definitely close to my sense of humour. It will be called French Trains and German Engineering. I haven't written it yet - but I have a feeling it might be a little politically incorrect.

Cover Reveal: My Début Novel, The Changing Room

So I am in the final stages of preparing my novel The Changing Room for publication, and I will be announcing a release date very soon. In the meantime, here's a taster of what's in store with the first public airing of the cover by the very talented, Gracie Klumpp.

Countdown to Publication

So recently, my ISBN (international standard book numbers) finally arrived. These are the numerical codes that identify individual books and generate the barcode that you see on the back of books. By assigning ISBN numbers to my books, it means they will appear in industry catalogues and be available for retailers to purchase. It's taken much longer to get this point than I imagined. However, it does mean that the publication of A Modern Life on Kindle is days rather than weeks away. It will follow shortly after on other e-readers and then in paperback in early April.

In between all the preparations (which being a bit brainless I had not thought through - like tax requirements, setting up a business, blah, blah, blah) I have written a new story which I am going to include as a last minute addition to my short story collection. It's called Pork Chops and Promiscuity and is about a lesbian called Judith who has a fondness for pork. Sounds daft, I know. And that's because it is daft. Still, if there's one thing I can say about my story collection - there's a lot of variety in it.  I'm hoping that amongst the thirteen stories and the opening chapter to The Changing Room there will be at least one that will appeal to individuals and which will save me from a rush of one stars on Amazon.

 I thought this was a collection of literary stories but the first story is about a lesbian with a penchant for pork chops. Are you sure it's not an article for The Daily Mail?

Unfortunately, I am starting to have nightmares about the potential reaction to my short stories. Yikes. If things get worse, I may have to see a counsellor - although I am slightly unnerved by the fact that the other night I dreamt I went to a counsellor and when he put down the copy of A Modern Life covering his face I saw he was Stephen King. It was a pretty bad nightmare - especially when I was forced to admit I'd only skimmed-read his writing guide On Writing. Luckily, I woke up just as he was about to stab me with his fountain pen.

I tried to read this book, I really, really did.  But when I got to the story about the floater in the toilet I couldn't take anymore.

This book is really disturbing. I give it one star.

This book is really, really disturbing - and there's a typo.

Look, I don't care what people's reactions are. So long as there is a reaction. As a humorist and a reviewer I am already prepared for mixed reviews.The worst thing that could possibly happen is this: