Tag Archives: Catherine Balavage

The People At Number 9 By Felicity Everett Now Out In Paperback

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One of Frosts favourite books of the year is now out in paperback. You can read our review of The People At Number 9 here. We recommend you get your hands on a copy.

Meet the new neighbours. Whose side are you on?

Have you met the People at Number 9?

Sara and Neil have new neighbours in their street. Glamorous and chaotic, Gav and Lou make Sara’s life seem dull. As the two couples become friends, sharing suppers, red wine and childcare, it seems a perfect couples-match. But the more Sara sees of Gav and Lou, the more she longs to change her own life. But those changes will come at a price.

 

Felicity Everett grew up in Manchester and studied English Literature at Sussex University. She worked in children’s publishing in London, whilst raising a family and is the author of more than twenty works of children’s fiction and non-fiction. After a short career break, Felicity returned to writing full-time and in 2011 published her debut novel, The Story of Us, a funny and touching account of the friendships forged between five women at University in the 1980s. Her second novel, The People at Number 9, published in April 2017, is a dark satire on sex, envy and betrayal in the suburbs. Felicity has recently returned from a few years living in Melbourne, with her husband and now lives in Gloucestershire. Her new work in progress is a gothic tale of marriage and mental instability set in the dark heart of the countryside. You can follow Felicity @ittymay and on Facebook, Felicity Everett – Author.

The People at Number 9 is available here.

 

The Diary of a Freelance Working Mother

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working mother, mother, working, freelance, blogger, mummy blogger, blogger, parenting blogger, blogger, writing, Hello Frost readers. Many of you will know me quite well, others will be be thinking, ‘Why is the woman being so arrogant to think that we know who she is?’ And you may have a point, so let me introduce myself properly: I am the editor and founder of Frost Magazine. I am also a writer, author, editor, filmmaker and actor. But above all of this I am a mother. Which is the hardest thing of all.

When I got pregnant I felt like I was in a good position as a freelancer. I could be a full time mother AND have a career. Sure it would be hard, but I was used to hard. It is hard not to laugh thinking about this now. Being a freelancer is hard, but the flexibility has always made it worth it for me. Looking back now I can see I was naive when I thought it would be easy. I did not realise just how hard being a mother would be. The funniest thing is that I breastfeed for over a year and I look back at those times when I had a breastfeeding newborn and think of them as the easy days because now I have a two-year-old. For all of those mothers who have babies, enjoy this time. Toddlers are really hard work. Even my sweet and loving son. I know others have it harder. Very much so.

I am going to start this as a column. I am heavily pregnant as I write this and I just want to share the craziness of life as a freelance working mother. The timing is not great. I will be trying my best to take a proper maternity leave and cut back on work. There will be days, weeks even, when I let myself just be a mother and not run myself into the ground. Something that I have been known to do a lot in the past. It has taken becoming a parent to realise that I am not invincible, That self care is important. So I will continue to write my books and run this online mag while I raise my children. But while I am doing that I am going to tell you about how I spend the days taking my son to toddler groups and playing lego, and then writing and answering emails in the evening. I will give you some tips on both parenting and work. I will share with you how I wrote my first fiction book. Spoiler alert: by walking my son around in his pram until he feel sleep and then banging out 2000 words a day on my iPhone. I will talk to you about the guilt and the stress. But most of all I will let you know that I have no regrets at the path I have taken. Being a mother is the best things that ever happened to me. Motherhood is hard and sometimes I feel I am not up to the task, and choosing to work (which I am fully aware is a privilege) gives me back my identity and my freedom. Writers write. So stay tuned. I hope you enjoy the journey.

 

The Reminders By Val Emmich Book Review

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The Reminders By Val Emmich has a very interesting premise: a man who wants to remember, and a little girl who wants to forget. It is a wonderful concept but not all great concepts make great novels. Luckily for Val Emmich The Reminders does work. It is a novel which is both happy and sad, funny and painful. It is well observed and has just the right hint of melancholy.  It is a beautiful story of an unlikely friendship. The Reminders is ultimately a heart-warming novel that will lift your spirits, while also making you just a little bit sad, but in a good way. Yes, that is possible. Recommended.

 

Overcome with the loss of his boyfriend Sydney, Gavin Winters has set fire to every reminder in their home. A neighbour has captured the blaze on video, turning this little-known TV actor into a household name. Gavin flees LA for New Jersey, where he hopes that ten-year-old Joan, the daughter of a close friend, can reconnect him with the memories of Sydney he is now in danger of losing for ever. 

Joan was born with a rare ability to recall every single day of her life in perfect detail, and in return for sharing her memories of Sydney, Gavin will help her write a song for a local competition. For Joan has had enough of being the girl who can’t forget – she wants to be the girl who will never be forgotten . . .

Charming, beautifully observed, poignant and funny, The Reminders by actor and musician Val Emmich is an irresistible story of the unlikely friendship between a grief-stricken man who can’t remember and a ten-year-old girl who can’t forget.

The Reminders By Val Emmich is available here. 

Dubbed a “Renaissance Man” by the New York Post, Val Emmich is a writer, singer-songwriter, and actor. He has had recurring roles on Vinyl and Ugly Betty as well as a memorable guest role as Liz Lemon’s coffee-boy fling, Jamie, on 30 Rock. Emmich lives in Jersey City, New Jersey, with his wife and their two children. The Reminders is his first novel.

Published 10th August 

 

 

Give Me The Child By Mel McGrath Book Review

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Give Me The Child drew my in immediately from the cover. Then the blurb drew my in further. As a mother I worried it might be horrible and depressing, but Give Me The Child is a clever and riveting psychological thriller. It leaves you guessing and is well written by an author who is clearly at the top of her game. Gripping and addictive: you will probably sacrifice sleep to race through it. A great book indeed.

 

Give Me the Child is an explosive thriller set against the backdrop of the 2011 London riots

Mel McGrath is the co-founder of the UKs top all-female London-based writing collective, The Killer Women, which has 19 members including Paula Hawkins and Erin Kelly http://www.killerwomen.org/who/

An unexpected visitor.

Dr Cat Lupo aches for another child, despite the psychosis which marked her first pregnancy. So when Ruby Winter, a small girl in need of help, arrives in the middle of the night, it seems like fate.

A devastating secret.

But as the events behind Ruby’s arrival emerge – her mother’s death, her connection to Cat – Cat questions whether her decision to help Ruby has put her own daughter at risk.

Do we get the children we deserve?

Cat’s research tells her there’s no such thing as evil. Her history tells her she’s paranoid. But her instincts tell her different. And as the police fight to control a sudden spate of riots raging across the capital, Cat faces a race against time of her own…

Mel McGrath is an Essex girl, the author of the critically acclaimed and bestselling family memoir Silvertown. She won the John Llewellyn-Rhys/Mail on Sunday award for Best Writer Under 35 for her first book, Motel Nirvana. She has published three Arctic mysteries featuring the Inuit detective Edie Kiglatuk under the name MJ McGrath, the first of which, The Boy in the Snow, was shortlisted for a CWA Gold Dagger.

In the last year she has been one of the founders and moving lights of the website Killer Women, which has rapidly established itself as one of the key forums for crime writing in the UK. This new standalone marks a change in direction

Give Me The Child By Mel McGrath is published on the 27th July and is available here. http://amzn.to/2tFKiAR

 

Cornish Writing Challenge 2017 Winner: Christopher Joyce

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So The Cornish Writing Challenge 2017 is done and Frost wants to thank Vikki Patis for including us. Frost’s own Jane Cable and Catherine Balavage were two of the judges. Along with Vikki- of course, and Cornish author Angela Britnell. We are now proud to publish the winner: Christopher Joyce.

 

Christopher Joyce from Chichester in West Sussex has been a teacher, waiter, once made Venetian blinds and has worked in a steel works. He is best known for his series of children’s books, ‘The Creatures of Chichester’, where the city’s animals solve the problems created by the Twolegs living there. See www.creaturesofchichester.com for more information.

Read his excellent winning entry below.

 

Mama’s Gonna Float The Gypsum

 

“Hello, what service do you require?”

“All of them. Police, ambulance; there’s someone trapped in the car. Maybe fire brigade. I dunno – send them all!”

I slammed down the phone after giving my directions and threw up in the phone box. I was amazed it was still working as locals had turned it into a mini library. Thank God I was able to get through.

The stench of petrol filled the air mixing with the musty smell of autumn. They’d be here soon.

Breathe, relax.

It had started out quite a normal sort of day. I’d had a delicious lunch at the Waterside restaurant in Flushing, opting for the catch of the day as always. The plan was then to go for a walk along Trefusis Point. We had a lot to talk about.

Kelly was late. She was always bloody late. It drove me mad. After university we’d moved down to Cornwall to run a small pub. It failed miserably in the recession of 2017, but if I’m honest it would have failed anyway. We just didn’t want the same thing anymore. We tried running a mobile coffee shop that toured the festivals, which just drove us even further apart. Being with Kelly twenty-four hours a day was not the answer to resolve our differences.

I checked my watch. 2:35, Where the hell was she? The waiter brought me the dessert menu for the fifth time and I once again pushed it aside. He looked offended. Well, tough. Get over it. I’ve got more to worry about than your tip pal. He muttered to his manager and I wanted to go over and punch him in the face there and then. I counted to ten. Breathe, relax. That’s what the anger management person had taught me. She was as useful as a chocolate teapot. Kelly loved her of course. In fact it was Kelly’s idea. Typical of her new found, hippy-dressing, cosmic-ordering sort of view on life.

The spotty chinned waiter returned again. This time with a piece of paper folded in half. “There’s a message for you, sir,’ he said. I didn’t like the way he stressed the word sir, but I let it go. Another whinging apology from Kelly, no doubt. I opened it and read:

Mama’s gonna float the gypsum.

What sort of bollocks was that? I turned it over and even held it up to the light, half expecting to see a message from Kelly written on the other side, but that’s all it said. Mama’s gonna float the gypsum. Was she playing stupid games? We’d arranged this meeting weeks ago, after endless blocked text messages and unanswered calls she’d agreed to stroll around the headland to talk things through. I bet one of her trendy therapists had put her up to this. I could hear them whispering in her ear. Challenge him. Surprise him. They made me sick.

I didn’t have time for these stupid games. I had to get back to the garden centre. It’s not that I was the boss or anything, but since the break up I’d found some peace amongst the clematis and hydrangeas. I seem to remember that gypsum was a plant food of some sort. It was supposed to improve acid soil. Was she trying to make a reference to my work? That would be typical. She never wanted me to be successful. Ever since I got a first at uni and she got a Desmond. She hated me referring to her 2:2 like that. Yes, she’d studied soil sciences. I bet it’s something to do with that.

Or maybe it’s an anagram? When we first met we’d spend hours in bed going through the puzzle page in the local paper. I rummaged through my backpack for a pencil. There were so many zipped pockets. Why was it always the last one you looked in? I checked my mobile phone in vain. Still no sign of life. I shoved the half eaten peppermints and loose change back into the bag and drew a circle on the piece of paper. I arranged the letters in a random order around the circle. It’s just the sort of thing Kelly used to do. Oh God, I’ll be worshipping bloody crystals next.

After ten minutes of scratching my head. Nothing. Not a Scooby. I stormed out of the restaurant and headed for the woods. It was only when I was half way to the beach that I realised I hadn’t paid my bill. Well, sod him. He shouldn’t have brought me her ridiculous note in the first place.

I pulled up the collar of my down jacket as the ferry from Falmouth spewed out the last remaining emmets with their selfie sticks and iPads already in their hands. I strode on into Kilnquay Woods kicking up the beech mast and relaxing a little as the smell of pine needles and salty sea air filled my lungs. Before long I was clambering along the rocks on the shore line towards the cave where Kelly and I had frolicked in better days. My shoulders relaxed and I undid my jacket. The beach always had this effect on me. I felt at home. I pulled out the scrap of paper from my jacket and read the message again. Mama’s gonna float the gypsum. Was it an old folk song? I vaguely remember a school trip to a gypsum mine in Redruth. Were there once shanty songs sung by full-bosomed lasses as they loaded the gypsum on to boats bound for distant lands? I doubted it.

The sun was dipping below the horizon when I left the shore. The views of Falmouth across the crystal clear water and the sight of kids searching the rock pools for crabs had lifted my spirits. I didn’t care what the note was supposed to mean. I had to admit that although she drove me mad at times I still could not get her out of my head. I decided to stroll back into town and have a long cold pint of Gold Cyder at the Seven Stars.

The cold, golden liquid cleared my mind and I felt the happiest I’d been in months. It was time to put the past behind us and start again. I was on my second, or maybe third pint when I heard the screech of brakes followed by the unmistakeable thud of metal crushing bones. I leapt to my feet knocking the table and half finished cider on to the floor.

‘For God’s sake call an ambulance,’ I screamed at the top of my voice. Nobody moved. The red-headed barmaid continued to flirt with the young men at the bar. The family of four by the door carried on ignoring each other with their eyes glued to their mobile phones. The guys playing darts chalked up another score.

I ran out into the street alone. A woman’s body was crushed in the front seat of the mangled Fiesta. Just her legs with torn tights covered in blood were visible though the smashed windscreen. Another body was slumped beside her, a male in his late twenties, clearly dead at the scene. A young girl pushed her bike down the street as a lady in her later years nervously crossed the road hugging an ugly pug to her chest.

For Christ’s sake what’s wrong with these people. I dashed to the phone box hoping beyond hope that it was still working. It was piled high with books; there was a laminated note stuck to the wall.
This phone box was decommissioned in 2014. Please help yourself to these books dedicated to Kelly and Simon Edgerton, dear to this village. New books are added on a regular basis. This month:

Mama’s Misbehaving (not suitable for children) J Stone
Gonna Make You Mine (young adult) Kay Littleham
Float Fishing for Pike. S B Carter
The Gypsum Mines in the UK Andy McNarble

 

 

The Hourglass By Tracy Rees Book Review

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tracyreesthehourglassreview

The Hourglass is a book that hooked me quickly and would not let go. Set in the present and the past: The Hourglass perfectly intertwines the stories of Nora, a woman in her forties who is troubled by anxiety and feels like her life is falling apart, and Chloe, a teenager in 1950. Both go to Tenby in Wales but have a different story to tell. Tracy Rees is an excellent writer. Her characters are so well rounded you feel you know them, and she really knows how to set a scene. I want to go to Wales now. The Hourglass is a brilliant, atmospheric, and multi-layered book that will leave you guessing until the end. Unputdownable

 

2014. Nora has always taken success for granted, until suddenly her life begins to fall apart. Troubled by anxiety and nightmares, she finds herself drawn to the sweeping beaches of Tenby, a place she’s only been once before. Together with a local girl she rents a beautiful townhouse and slowly begins to settle in to her new life. But Tenby hides a secret, and Nora will soon discover that this little town by the sea has the power to heal even the most painful memories.

1950. Chloe visits Tenby every summer. She stays with relatives, and spends the long, idyllic days on the beach. Every year is the same, until she meets a glamorous older boy and is instantly smitten. But on the night of their first date, Chloe comes to a realisation, the aftermath of which could haunt her forever.

The Hourglass is a moving novel about finding love even after it seems too late and the healing power of a magical place by the sea.

 

The Hourglass By Tracy Rees is available here.

 

 

The People at Number 9 by Felicity Everett Book Review

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thepeopleatnumber9

The People at Number 9 is an engaging novel. It has all of the things that books need to have to be popular at the moment: characters that are complex and are not necessary likeable, some twists and turns and just enough suspense. I raced towards the end of the book, and was frequently irritated by some of the characters actions. The book is relatable: plenty of people get obsessed with neighbours and those who are not like them. Gav and Lou move next door and Sara gets obsessed with her new arty neighbours. They are everything her middle class privilege is not and she yearns to be part of their world. Little does she know this will have huge consequences for her family. This novel is dark and clever. When I got to the end I wanted to read it again. It has a bit of a twist which is written in a smart way. The People at Number 9 is a cautionary tale about getting- and not getting- what you wish for. But mostly, it is about the dangers of envy, betrayal and selfishness. A triumph.

Meet the new neighbours. Whose side are you on?

When Gav and Lou move into the house next door, Sara spends days plucking up courage to say hello. The neighbours are glamorous, chaotic and just a little eccentric. They make the rest of Sara’s street seem dull by comparison.

When the hand of friendship is extended, Sara is delighted and flattered. Incredibly, Gav and Lou seem to see something in Sara and Neil that they admire too. In no time at all, the two couples are soulmates, sharing suppers, bottles of red wine and childcare, laughing and trading stories and secrets late into the night in one another’s houses.

And the more time Sara spends with Gav and Lou, the more she longs to make changes in her own life. But those changes will come at a price. Soon Gav and Lou will be asking things they’ve no right to ask of their neighbours, with shattering consequences for all of them…

Have you met The People at Number 9? A dark and delicious novel about envy, longing and betrayal in the suburbs…

The People at Number 9 is available here.

The Business of Books: Ready, Steady – Write!

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the-business-of-books-interviewswithjanecableJane Cable on writing competitively

Writing is not generally a competitive pastime; in fact, as I was saying in my last column, it’s a mutually supportive one. Yet writing competitions are forever popular and it’s probably the one time that pencils are sharpened into threatening points as we pit our wonderful words against those of our peers.

Doing well in competitions has shaped my writing life. Being a finalist in the Alan Titchmarsh Show’s search for a People’s Novelist gave me the confidence I needed to pursue my career as an author. Winning Words for the Wounded’s Independent Novel of the Year in 2015 led to representation by an agent and my first publishing deal.

There is no doubt that having a competition win on your CV helps get you noticed in all sorts of ways. Not only by agents and readers, but by sites like Bookbub and Ereader News who are impressively picky about the books they take for promotion. And as with everything else, practice makes perfect.

The Business of Books- Ready, steady – write!

Many competitions have an entry fee which funds not only the prizes but the running costs. Some, like the Words for the Wounded prize, exist to raise money for charity. Others help to fund literary festivals, but there is no doubt that entering enough of them to become really good at it can cost a small fortune.

This is one of the reasons that Frost editor Catherine Balavage and I are delighted to support a new free to enter competition, The Cornish Writing Challenge. Organised by short story writer Vikki Patis, the competition is open to writers everywhere but the entries must be either set in Cornwall or have a Cornish main character. There are four photographs for inspiration and full details can be found on Vikki’s The Bandwagon blog here: https://dracarya.wordpress.com/2017/04/04/cornish-reading-challenge-cornish-writing-challenge/

The judges are Vikki, Cornish author Angela Britnell, Catherine and me. The winning entry will be published in Frost and the writer interviewed on The Bandwagon. Highly commended entries will be published on The Bandwagon too.

So, how should you go about winning such great prizes and adding an impressive line to your writing CV? First and foremost, follow the rules. Don’t send 1,600 words when the maximum is 1,500. Make sure your entry is submitted before 27th May. The basics, really.

Choose your photographic prompt and use it – either literally or figuratively, but don’t half forget about it and slip it in at the end. It will show. But you are allowed to think outside the box and use the image as creatively as you wish.

Think your story through before you start to write. With a novel you can afford to ramble on a bit in a first draft, but a short story needs to move swiftly and smoothly from beginning to middle to end. It’s so much easier to do this when you know where you’re going from the outset.

Once your draft is down, edit it so that every single word counts. They don’t have to be long, difficult or showy words – in fact it’s often better if they’re not. But each one needs to have its place and contribute to the story. And don’t forget spelling and grammar because nothing grates on a judge more than sloppy writing.

Most of all, enjoy the journey and when you have a story you’d be proud to see in print, upload it to The Bandwagon website. Vikki, Angela, Catherine and I can’t wait to read it.