A finished book nook captures a small, detailed world that reflects patience and creativity. Over time though, colours can fade, textures can dull, and small features can lose their charm. Protecting those details keeps the miniature scene lively and preserves the effort that went into crafting it.

This guide explains how simple care methods keep a completed book nook bright, tactile, and long-lasting. Each step focuses on easy maintenance actions that stop wear before it starts. By following them, anyone can keep their miniature display true to its original look and feel.

Apply a clear, UV-resistant matte sealant to protect paint from fading and preserve textures

A clear, UV-resistant matte sealant helps protect paint from sunlight, dust, and moisture. It forms a light barrier that prevents fading and keeps colours steady over time. This step keeps the natural look of paint without adding unwanted shine.

Before applying, the surface should be fully dry and free of dust. A soft brush or spray gives an even coat without disturbing fine details. Thin layers dry faster and help avoid cloudiness or uneven texture.

For a crafted book nook project filled with detailed paintwork and textures, a sealant adds lasting protection. It helps prevent small chips or marks that come with handling or light exposure.

Most matte sealants dry to the touch within an hour and reach full hardness after several hours. A steady, smooth application keeps the surface clear and preserves every tone and surface pattern as originally designed.

Use a fine dry brush technique to refresh raised details without removing existing paint

A fine dry brush adds subtle highlights and restores texture without disturbing the original colours. The method uses a nearly dry brush with only a trace of paint on the bristles. This allows gentle strokes that catch raised areas and bring depth back to the surface.

To begin, they should use a soft, flat brush and wipe away most of the paint on a cloth before touching the piece. The brush should glide lightly across the surface rather than press down. This keeps the base layer intact while adding a slight touch of colour to edges or patterns.

Small, even strokes work best for corners and carved features. Artists may repeat the process with lighter tones for extra contrast. The goal is to refresh fine details so the book nook appears clean and well-kept, without obscuring its original finish.

Avoid direct sunlight exposure by placing your book nook in shaded or indoor areas

Direct sunlight slowly weakens materials and fades colour over time. The paint, fabric, and paper inside a book nook can lose their original look if exposed to too much light. Therefore, placing it in a shaded or indoor area helps keep every detail crisp and bright.

A shelf away from windows or a corner that stays cool during the day works well. Curtains or blinds can reduce glare without blocking natural light completely. Even a small shift away from direct rays can make a noticeable difference in how long the nook keeps its colours.

For extra care, UV-filtering window film or clear acrylic covers can help limit damage. These options reduce exposure while still allowing the nook to stay visible and admired. By keeping sunlight in check, the book nook stays attractive and well-preserved for years.

Clean dust gently with a soft, static-free brush to prevent surface damage

Dust can settle on even the smallest corners of a book nook, dulling colours and textures over time. To keep each part clean, they can use a soft, anti-static brush that lifts dust without scraping delicate details or leaving static residue.

Before brushing, it helps to inspect the surface under natural light. This step allows them to spot dusty areas easily. A gentle tap of the brush removes loose particles, preventing them from spreading to other sections.

The brush should stay clean to remain effective. Lightly tap it against a hard surface or wipe it on a dry cloth to clear trapped dust. This prevents build-up that could scratch painted or paper surfaces.

For tight spaces, a smaller brush works well. Its fine bristles can reach inside corners or behind tiny props without dislodging glued elements. Regular, careful dust removal preserves the book nook’s colour depth and material finish over time.

Replace any burnt-out LED lights promptly to maintain consistent colour and ambiance

LED lights play a key role in keeping a book nook bright and inviting. A single burnt-out light can create uneven tones or dull spots that change the overall mood. Replacing damaged LEDs as soon as possible helps preserve consistent colour and makes every small detail easier to see.

Before replacing any bulb, it helps to check that the issue is not a loose connection or a faulty power source. A quick test saves time and prevents extra work. If the light is faulty, use a bulb with the same brightness and colour temperature to keep the tone uniform throughout the scene.

Regular checks also prevent sudden discolouration caused by ageing LEDs. By acting quickly, the display keeps its intended look and prevents shadows from forming on painted surfaces or decorated panels. This simple habit keeps the miniature world glowing just as clearly as the day it was finished.

And relax…

Proper care keeps a finished book nook bright and detailed for years. Attention to dust, moisture, and light makes a clear difference in how colours and materials age. Regular checks and small touch-ups help prevent future repair needs.

Storing the piece in a cool, dry area protects delicate textures and paint layers. A sturdy box with acid-free paper keeps parts safe during moves or long periods off display.

Consistent cleaning with a soft brush or cloth removes loose dirt without scratching surfaces. In addition, keeping it away from direct sunlight prevents fading of paints and printed details.

Each step supports the next, giving the display lasting appeal and structure. With steady care, a book nook remains a small, detailed world that keeps its original look and charm.

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We’ve got an exclusive first read from her latest book, where you can dive in and get a chilling preview, only on Silver Magazine. Step into a country house dressed for Christmas, cosy on the surface but with secrets underneath…

Nick, an investigative journalist, has taken shelter at remote Yorkshire hotel Mistletoe Manor during a blizzard. To pass the time, he and his fellow guests have agreed to a game of Secret Santa, wrapping items they’ve found in the hotel, and gifting them to one another. And twenty-something PR woman Violet has just unwrapped the Christmas tree star…

* * * * *

One of the star’s points isn’t gold. It’s a dull crimson, as though it’s been dipped in paint. But as they stare, it becomes clear that it’s not paint at all.

‘That’s . . . is it . . .?’ Lorraine manages, and Violet turns the star round to examine, immediately dropping it as it smears her hand.

‘Oh my God!’ She holds her hand away from her body in horror. ‘Is this a joke? Does someone here think this is funny?’

David is on his feet, shepherding Emily from the room. ‘What? What is it, Daddy?’ she asks, craning her neck to see.

‘I think I heard mewing. We need to find Jingle. Come on . . .’ David urges her away.

Nick wonders if he’ll be the same kind of dad to Cara – alert, kind, protective. He hopes so.

In the drawing room, there’s uproar. Branson is shouting, ‘What the hell kind of gift is that?’

Violet looks as though she’s about to pass out, and Alan has his arm around a shuddering Lorraine. ‘Can’t stand the sight of blood,’ he mouths.

‘My goodness,’ says Matilda to Nick. ‘Someone’s got a peculiar sense of humour.’

Alan reaches to pick up the fallen star.

‘Don’t,’ says Nick. ‘Fingerprints.’

The others stare at him, aghast, and Violet gives a strange, high giggle.

‘You think this is a crime?’ she demands. ‘Come on! It’s just a horrible joke.’

But Nick is looking at Branson. The handsome older man is pale, his forehead is clammy, and he’s gazing fixedly at the stairs.

‘If none of us is injured . . .’ he says. ‘Penny.’

Donal extends a hand to Branson. ‘Give me your room key.’

‘I don’t . . .’ Branson pats his pockets. ‘I musta left it up there.’

‘I’ve got mine,’ says Donal, patting his pocket. He runs to the hall then takes the stairs two at a time. Nick follows, with Branson and Alan. The others gather in the hall.

‘Would you like a hug?’ Destiny asks Lorraine, and she nods tearfully. The two women cling together as Matilda and Violet stand rigid and fearful by the drooping Christmas tree.

There was no star on its top branch yesterday, Nick realises, but there’s no time to think about what that means. Donal has drawn to a halt by a panelled door in the corridor on the other side of the stairs from Nick’s room. He knocks, tentatively.

‘Hello? Mrs Mitchell?’ There is silence behind the door.

‘Could be she’s put her earplugs in and gone back to sleep,’ says Branson. ‘She sleeps like the dead with those things.’

Nick glances at him, and the older man’s bravado drains away. Branson closes his eyes, bracing himself.

‘Go on,’ Nick tells Donal. ‘Or do you want me to do it?’

He pictures Penelope sitting up, still half asleep, shocked at the intrusion. Donal shakes his head. He fits the key into the lock and turns it, pushing the door open. The room is dark, the shutters closed, but the vanity light shining from the bathroom illuminates a human shape in the double bed.

‘Penny!’ Branson shouts. ‘Wake up, honey!’

She doesn’t stir.

Nick moves towards the bed. ‘Let me check,’ he says. He’s thinking about the time he did a first aid course, that if Penelope’s really hurt, he knows how to make a tourniquet, he can staunch the blood, he can . . .

Donal folds back the shutters and grey light spills into the room. Now, the men can see that Penny is lying on her back. Her left arm is flung out as if in greeting, her right hand a claw on the pillow. Her eyes are open, her mouth a rictus of fear – and in her neck there’s a wound so deep, Nick involuntarily turns away, but not before he sees the blood soaking into the pillow, the spatters across the bedspread. She has clearly been dead for several hours.

‘Branson, Alan, out of the room,’ he says urgently. ‘Don’t come any closer, go and find David right now. We need a doctor.’

‘She’s my wife!’ storms Branson. ‘I need to see what’s . . .’

He steps nearer and sees the damp red pillow, the spray of arterial blood.

‘Oh God, no,’ he whispers. He collapses against the wall. ‘Penny, no.’

‘Come on, mate,’ Alan half lifts him and pulls him from the room.

A woman’s voice floats from below. ‘What’s happening? Is she OK?’

Nick takes charge. ‘Donal, could you go and break the news to the others, please? Alan, can you ask someone to look after Branson downstairs, then find David, and I’ll stay with the bo—with Penelope.’

Donal nods as he heads for the door, and Nick feels profoundly grateful for the young man’s swift grasp of the situation.

‘We need to try and find a way to call the police,’ Nick adds. The scene is surreal: the old-fashioned bedroom, the red blood, the falling snow. He should be at the office near Blackfriars Bridge right now, eating a festive Tesco meal deal, typing up his notes, thinking about last-minute presents for Harriet.

‘I’ll ask everyone to try their phones again,’ says Donal. ‘The landline’s dead, and the Wi-Fi seems to be out.’

‘Yes, it wasn’t working last night when I arrived,’ says Nick. ‘Could you maybe have a look at the box, just to make sure a wire hasn’t come loose?’

‘Sure,’ says Donal, already on his way out. ‘But I think it’s the snow. There’s a mast up on the moors, it’s probably been damaged in the blizzard.’

Nick knows he’s right. He’s just finding it hard to believe that in a world where basically everything runs on Wi-Fi, AI and tech, they can’t get an urgent message to the police.

Somebody is wailing downstairs. Nick can hear gasps of horror, the sound of a woman sobbing. Donal has done his duty, then. Perhaps Nick should have taken on that horrible task, but the truth is, he doesn’t know who to trust and someone needs to stay with the body and ensure it’s not moved.

Clues, he thinks. Forensics. Nick scans the room. The shutters were closed when they came in, but the curtains were open – that may mean nothing, of course. On Branson’s side of the bed, there’s a mobile phone, clearly out of battery, and a half-empty glass of water. Nick bends to sniff it, and inhales that ferric tang he recognises from his own bathroom tap. He straightens up, feeling foolish. It’s not as if she was poisoned – it’s perfectly clear how she died.

On Penelope’s bedside table, there’s a lamp, switched off, and a book – The Testaments by Margaret Atwood. She doesn’t seem to have got far with it, judging by the bookmark placement. Nick feels a sharp pang of sorrow that now she’ll never finish it. Beside it is a lavender-silk eye-mask – why wasn’t she wearing it? Did she rip it off when she heard a noise?

Nick looks more closely at the polished surface. There’s an almost invisible trail of fine, white dust. Surely not drugs. Neither Penelope nor Branson seems the type. Some kind of vitamin powder? It suddenly strikes him why it looks familiar – it’s the dust that comes from ripping open a thick envelope. He sees their sunny kitchen last summer, Harriet tearing open a thick cream envelope, scanning a wedding invitation. His heart sinking, knowing he’d need a new suit, they’d need to buy a present . . . the ripped envelope made just that kind of fine dust on the worktop.

Nick crosses to the metal waste bin, under the desk. He shouldn’t touch anything . . . he creates a makeshift mitten from the bottom of his T-shirt and gently pulls it out. There’s the envelope – thick, white, torn open, a single P in black ink on the front. And beside it, next to an apple core and a crumpled information leaflet about Castle Howard, there’s a leaf of plain white paper, screwed into a ball. Nick pinches it by the corner, holding it through his T-shirt, and pulls it out, unfolding the creases. These five words, too, are in black pen, printed in neat capitals:

I KNOW WHAT YOU DID.

Get the book

Four days before Christmas, twelve stranded strangers gather round a crackling fire, sheltering from the raging storm outside. . .

But their relief is short-lived: as the snow deepens, the tree-lined avenue winding through the hotel’s parkland becomes impassable. Their isolation is complete. The next morning, a body is found in one of the luxurious four-poster beds. As twelve strangers become eleven suspects, who among them has checked in with murder in mind? And will any of them live to see another Christmas. . .?

Murder at Mistletoe Manor by F. L. Everett is the perfect festive read. Get it here.

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The post Murder at Mistletoe Manor – read excerpt appeared first on Silver Magazine.

Autobiographies often straddle the line between memoir and storytelling. And many beloved memoirs include inaccuracies, intentional or not. A Guardian review recently noted that “scandal has stalked memoir since the genre was invented”. So not something particularly unusual. Yet when The Salt Path by Raynor Winn came under scrutiny, the fallout felt pretty catastrophic.

So why does The Salt Path drama feel different? And does it really even matter, if stories still move you? Is the point of a book simply to entertain?

I asked a couple of people to give me their thoughts on this…

Gillian Anderson and Jason Isaacs in The Salt Path

I believe it does matter – Fiona, 56

I picked up The Salt Path because I felt seen. A couple my age, forced to rebuild from ruin, walking the coast to heal – that resonated with me. But now the Observer alleges serious omissions: Winn allegedly embezzled about £64,000, owned property in France, and her husband’s condition may differ from what’s in the book.

I ask myself: does that change my experience? Yes it does. Emotional truth is not enough if the facts are false. Plenty of memoirs stretch the truth; James Frey’s A Million Little Pieces claimed he spent 87 days in jail, but he only spent hours. Oprah confronted him. Publishers inserted disclaimers and even offered refunds. Margaret Seltzer’s Love and Consequences and Binjamin Wilkomirski’s wartime memoir were also debunked.

But those were cases of outright falsehood in critical events – abuse, war crimes, addiction. Those fabrications misled readers and harmed real communities.

With The Salt Path, the stakes feel different. This is a story of resilience and walking, on the face of it. Yet the central pivot – homelessness after loss of their home – may apparently be untrue. That matters! If the foundation is faulty, the emotional journey feels hollow.

We trust memoir writers. We expect honesty. The moment that trust is broken, the emotional impact diminishes. We start questioning every tender moment, every revelation. The message – hope through hardship – turns hollow.

And yes, there’s a mild ageism in the backlash. Many suggest older authors shouldn’t pretend. But honesty should matter at every age.

Map of The Salt Path travelled by the Winns in the book (right)

I don’t think it matters – Mark, 53

I still love the book. It moved me. It made me walk more, worry less, feel more capable. The heart of the story doesn’t change if Raynor’s steps or missteps happened differently.

Memoirs aren’t biographies. They’re memories. They’re stories. They’re shaped by emotion. They’re selective. Every writer chooses what to include. When [James] Frey’s book came out and he was busted making things up, he defended himself, saying his book was 85 percent true and that it offered ‘emotional authenticity’ over literal fact. Readers accepted that. The book survived.

Why pick on The Salt Path now? Maybe it’s because it was so successful? Two million copies sold, a film adaptation with Gillian Anderson and Jason Isaacs… The higher the success, the harder the fall. It feels like schadenfreude to me. We don’t want people to succeed.

Win half a million in royalties and film deals, and suddenly their journey seems less authentic? Bit unfair. Success doesn’t erase struggle.

What if Raynor was less than accurate – surely she still felt emotionally homeless? What matters is the story she tells. The landscapes, the healing, the bond with her husband: that remains.

The drama signals something else: we’re uncomfortable with imperfect memoirs. We want truth – real truth. But perhaps we should learn to accept a messy form of truth, one lived on the page, not proven in a court.

Why the uproar?

The Salt Path hit a nerve perhaps because published ‘truth’ is under increasing scrutiny. Publishing has little fact‑checking – Penguin itself admits so. Penguin has no dedicated fact-checking department for books, and relies on author warranties for veracity in its autobiographies. We trust and expect honest stories. So when the cracks appear, the trust collapses.

It’s probably also true to say that in a world where almost everything you read online increasingly seems to have been created with AI, it would be lovely if you could actually trust book publishers to exercise some due diligence.

But it also feels a bit personal for older readers. Winn and her husband were in their 60s. Their message – that it’s never too late to start – is powerful for readers in the same age group. And so their experiences felt close to home. We’re wrestling with our own stability, our own stories of resilience. We wanted to believe theirs.

* Interviews have been edited for clarity.

Sam Harrington-Lowe

Sam is Silver’s founder and editor-in-chief. She’s largely responsible for organising all the things, but still finds time to do the odd bit of writing. Not enough though. Send help.

The post The Salt Path – is the fallout drama really justified? appeared first on Silver Magazine.

Susanna Hoffs hasn’t really ever stopped producing music. But this new launch is different; this is a treasure trove of old songs from the ‘90s that didn’t get released. Hoffs recorded the tracks for The Lost Record in 1999. The songs were co-written with friends, including Bill Bottrell and Go-Go’s members Charlotte Caffey and Jane Wiedlin, with Dan Schwartz joining her to produce the album. And the tracks were recorded in her garage, a setting that holds special significance for her. “I love garage rock. Many of my favourite songs were written in garages, and I even lived in them during the ’80s.”

Susanna Hoffs is Zooming from — for reasons that sound like they should be more interesting, but actually aren’t — the spare bedroom of Bridget Jones author Helen Fielding’s house in California. She is dressed in pink and black; she’s always dressed in pink and black when we talk. She very much likes pink and black.

Susanna Hoffs, photo: Shervin Lainez

“Are you going to get my age right this time?” she teases. “You’re not going to make me any older than I actually am, again?”

Early last year I conducted a flurry of interviews with Hoffs, best known as one of the co-founders of The Bangles (where I got some dates wrong, hence the teasing). She’s often described as the lead singer of the band that, from the early ‘80s onwards, tore up the charts with singles such as Manic Monday, Walk Like an Egyptian, Eternal Flame, and their cover of Simon & Garfunkel’s Hazy Shade of Winter. Which (whisper it) I always thought was better than the original. But The Bangles — Hoffs, Vicki Peterson, Debbie Peterson, Michael Steele (the latter replaced founding bassist Annette Zilinskas, who later rejoined the band) — was always a four-vocals group.

Last year she realised a long-held ambition and saw her debut novel, This Bird Has Flown, published. And now comes the release of The Lost Record.

I tell Hoffs that it’s 40 years since the release of the Bangles’ debut album, All Over The Place, which would produce the singles Hero Takes a Fall and Going Down to Liverpool. “Are you sure?” says Hoffs. “You know what you’re like with dates.”

And yet, impossibly, it is. The band had previously released a five-track EP in 1982, but this was their first proper studio album. And it would bring them to the attention of not only the music industry, but artists such as Cyndi Lauper and Huey Lewis, who would get the band to open for them. And, most crucially, Prince.

The Bangles 1984. Photo: Aurelio Jose Barrera, Los Angeles

By the time the Bangles released Manic Monday in 1986 and Eternal Flame in 1989, their superstardom was assured — the latter single hit number one in nine countries. But the Bangles of five years earlier in 1984, when Hoffs was 25, was a less polished, more raucous affair.

“It was a very thrilling and exciting time to be in a band,” says Hoffs. “I mean, those pre-internet days. We advertised shows mostly by flyers, ads in free magazines like Recycler,” It was a real punk ethos, crystallised when she went to see what would turn out to be the last Sex Pistols live concert, at the Winterland Ballroom in San Francisco in 1978, when Hoffs was a student at the University of California, Berkeley.

She began studying theatre, then switched to dance, and finally settled on art, which was what she graduated with. “I jumped around a little, but by the end that all kind of coalesced into one big love of art in all its forms. And when I put that ad in for band members I think it was because at that point the idea of being in a band just seemed like the ultimate art project to me.”

Hoffs turned 65 in January. It seems a significant age.

I tell her that in the UK it was always a long-standing joke that when you hit that point you get your bus pass, though I have no idea if that’s still true. She laughs. “I know! Over here, we’d say I’m now eligible for Medicare!”

In the ‘80s especially, Hoffs was considered one of the most beautiful women on the planet. Before our interview she had posted on her social media a cover from Spin magazine, for which she was the cover girl for their “first annual swimsuit issue”. Given that the Bangles started off as a punky guitar band, how did she handle being called a sex symbol?

Hoffs laughs a little awkwardly. “I think part of that came from the rise of MTV in the 1980s,” she says. “Suddenly it wasn’t enough to just put out a record, there had to be a video with it. There were so many iconic videos at that time, and artists like Madonna were really pushing the sexuality. I used to handle that by creating a persona, really, for when I was performing.” She breaks out into a broad grin. “It’s like Nigel Tufnel in Spinal Tap. This dial goes up to 11. And that’s what it was like for me. I dialled it up to 11.”

Hoffs is a huge movie fan. Last year she did a feature for the Criterion film collection, highlighting her favourite movies. She included Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, La Piscine and Klute among her eclectic selections. One night she emails me out of the blue to ask if I’ve ever seen The Servant, the 1963 psychological thriller starring Dirk Bogarde.

It’s no surprise Hoffs loves film. She was born in LA in 1959, and her mother Tamar was then a film-maker, her father Joshua a psychoanalyst. Celebrities regularly visited the house (especially for her father’s expertise in a field that was in its relative infancy). One family friend was Star Trek legend Leonard Nimoy, who appeared in the video for Going Down to Liverpool. She is married to Jay Roach, the film director with the Austin Powers movies on his CV, among many others, with who she has two sons. She is currently writing the screenplay for the movie adaptation of her novel This Bird Has Flown, which was published a year ago.

Hoffs has appeared in movies. Notably as the delightfully-named Gillian Shagwell in the Austin Powers movies, part of the band Ming Tea. And in the 1987 movie The Allnighter, directed by her mother. The cover of The Allnighter very much leans into Hoffs’ sex symbol status, featuring her in pink underwear.

I wonder if Hoffs still considers herself a sex symbol. She is very active on social media, especially Instagram. Her Facebook account has comments turned off on posts, but within minutes of her putting up a video on Insta, there are thousands of likes and hundreds of comments, many of them from men declaring they are in love with her, in lust with her, and worse.

Last summer, when she was over in the UK to promote her book, we met for lunch in London, and I mused that her direct message inbox must be an absolute bin-fire. She winced a little, and said that she has someone to filter out the worst of it before she sees it. So, I ask her. Does she still feel like a sex symbol today?

“I don’t think of myself as a sex symbol. I don’t think of myself that way. Or are we talking about sex? I mean, I’m 65 now, I’m not going to retire from it, that makes zero sense. A lot of my friends are my age and older and, you know, we talk about it and we’re not going to retire from that, ever.”

I don’t think of myself as a sex symbol. I don’t think of myself that way

I find myself blushing. That said, there’s a fair bit of sex in her novel, This Bird Has Flown. It’s the story of Jane Start, an ever-so slightly faded pop star who goes to London to recharge her batteries, and ends up in a swoonsome relationship with a slightly uptight but good-looking Oxford professor. Jane is pretty much a one-hit wonder, now resorting to doing private shows for bachelor parties in nightclubs, her big success a song gifted to her by international superstar Jonesy. There has been speculation that Jonesy is a Prince analog; the purple one gifted the Bangles the song Manic Monday, and acted as something of a mentor for Hoffs. There was endless speculation about whether they were in a relationship, which Hoffs keeps her own counsel on.

She does call him a “supernatural talent” though, saying his live performances were just incredible to watch. In the 1990s Prince would help her indirectly, as well… when she was about to go on stage, when she was ramping up that public Susanna Hoffs performance to 11, she would listen to Let’s Go Crazy on her Walkman to get into the zone.

“It enabled me to make that transition from me to the other me” she says. “Things got giddy and crazy. And sometimes it took a while to come down from that, to get back to me.”

Susanna Hoffs Self Portrait in Garage 1994

Hoffs still performs and writes music. Around the same time her novel came out last year, she released a new album, The Deep End, her fifth solo album, before The Lost Record this year. For her, ageing is not something to be necessarily worried about.

“I think ageing is about learning to love yourself,” she says thoughtfully. “Acceptance is very important. We have to accept changes in our lives and bodies, because anything other than accepting who you are is going to drive you crazy.”

Hoffs often posts videos and photos of herself on her social media without make-up, just dossing around her house. “I think that’s important, too,” she says. “At least to me. Being comfortable in who you are, and who you’ve become. I think the trick is to stay positive, if you can, to find the joy in life, to keep active, to seek inspiration everywhere. One thing is guaranteed, we all get older, and I think life is better if you follow the direction of that river than fighting against it. We just need to embrace ageing and get on with life.”

“…You’re going to get older. The only thing about that which makes sense to me is just embrace it. I mean, what’s the alternative?”

It being 40 years since the first Bangles album came out, would Hoffs swap being 65 for being 25 again, if that magic of the movies could work? She laughs, “Oh, no chance. I think the wisdom and experience that comes with living is far more valuable.”

If we were going to employ that movie magic so Hoffs could meet her 25-year-old self, what would she tell her?

She thinks about it. “My job at that time was really stressful. Don’t get me wrong, it was very enjoyable, and I feel so lucky that I got to do it. There was so much travelling, and it was very difficult to stay grounded and to carry on relationships.

“I think I’d tell 25-year-old Susanna not to be so hard on herself. To not judge herself so harshly. To worry less. I’d tell her not to question herself so much and to be less afraid, to be more fearless.

“I think being in your 20s can be very anxiety-inducing, and I suppose that goes the same for young women today. You’re trying to figure out your place in the world. One thing is certain, and it’s probably not what young women want to hear or think about but it’s unavoidable. You’re going to get older. The only thing about that which makes sense to me is just embrace it. I mean, what’s the alternative?”

We wrap things up. Susanna Hoffs has a screenplay to write, and a new book to think about, and a new record to promote. The bus pass will just have to wait, it seems.

Buy Susanna Hoffs The Lost Record here, released 18 October 2024

Buy This Bird has Flown, novel by Susanna Hoffs here

David Barnett

David Barnett is an author and journalist, originally from Wigan and now living in West Yorkshire. His latest novel is the folk horror WITHERED HILL, from Canelo, and forthcoming, a magical Christmas rom-com, THE LITTLE CHRISTMAS LIBRARY (Orion). He is married to Claire, a journalist, and they have two children, Charlie and Alice.

The post Susanna Hoffs: The Lost Record… and the good life appeared first on Silver Magazine.

I’ve wanted to use this photo of Jilly Cooper for yonks, so I’ve dug it out shamelessly for this piece. Just look at her! How gorgeous? I suspect that Jilly’s life has probably been, in parts, as exciting and racy as many of her novels. When I think of Jilly Cooper’s Rivals, or Riders, or any of them, I sort of picture her like this, writing them.

I grew up loving Cooper. As a child, I can remember my dad guffawing to her columns in the heady days of Harold Evans’ Sunday Times, over a full English and untipped Gitanes. I was too young to read her then, but endlessly devoured collections of her works a few years later. And as I hit my teens, I fell head over heels in love with her romantic heroines. Prudence, Octavia, Emily, Bella, Imogen et al – I read them cover to cover, repeatedly. I loved Octavia best, because who doesn’t love a broken bad girl? And Octavia was very naughty indeed.

Tame stuff by today’s standards really, despite the wildness of the ‘70s. But my love for Jilly was set for life. The delicious Britishness of it all was a big part of the attraction. I devoured the wicked filth of Jackie Collins, but it was so American to me, settings I could barely relate to. Whereas Cooper wrote very much about life from my own frame of reference. Country living, London, dogs, ponies… ridiculous 11am drinks parties. As a child, one of my first ever jobs was as a pheasant plucker – I kid you not. So to find someone writing about sex, drama, and intrigue in English country villages…

Read more: Are you common? A class guide…

But I digress

When the big ‘bonkbusters’ (god, I hate that term) started coming out, I was in fits of ecstasy. From Riders onwards I was hooked, reading voraciously and pining until another one came out. I have no idea how one even starts to write novels like that, holding all that information about so many characters together. I can barely remember why I went into the kitchen. But reading the books, sinking into that heady world of treachery, and money, and sex, and absolutely appalling behaviour was a wild pleasure I can still feel today.

So when I saw that Rivals was to be made into a TV series – by Disney no less, a weird marriage, I thought – I was wary. There have been a few adaptations of Cooper’s work before, and they’ve largely been rather awful. Would this be any different? As luck would have it, I was invited to a premiere screening of the first two episodes, followed by a panel sesh with some of the actors – so I would get to find out sooner rather than later.

The launch event was huge fun

The invite had specified there would be ’80s-themed drinks and canapes, and on the way up to town, my plus-one Kath and I necked G&Ts and wondered what they might be. Vol au vents, for sure. Possibly smoked salmon. Prawns? It turned out to be a take, rather than a religious revisit, which is probably better. But there were vol au vents, you’ll be pleased to know (creamy chicken and mushroom). Also prawn cocktails, and teenie Black Forest gateaux, amongst other delights.

…you could have been forgiven for thinking it really was 1985. We circulated a bit, rubbing shoulders with celebs and quaffing bubbles and tequila sunrises…

We did however arrive to a glittering event with Duran Duran blaring, hot and cold running cocktails and champagne, and stars galore. For one moment you could have been forgiven for thinking it really was 1985. We circulated a bit, rubbing shoulders with celebs and quaffing bubbles and tequila sunrises, before taking seats in the sumptuous screening room.

Kath and I tried not to squeal with excitement when Aidan Turner sat right in front of us (WHAT a handsome man). But sadly he was moved to the front, ready for the Q&A at the end. My friend Amanda was messaging me, telling me to sniff him so she could know what he smelled like. I was four drinks deep by then and might just have had a go, but thank god the poor man was moved before I could work out how to do this. And I probably avoided an arrest for public harassment into the bargain. So sorry, I can’t tell you what Aidan Turner smells like, but he looks very clean. And did I say how handsome he is?

(L to R) Aidan Turner, Katherine Parkinson, Emily Atack, David Tennant, Dame Jilly Cooper, Danny Dyer, Alex Hassell, Nafessa Williams, Bella Maclean, Claire Rushbrook and Victoria Smurfit (Photo: Dave Benett/Getty Images for Disney+)

Tell us about the show

I’m not allowed to write about the show itself yet properly. It’s embargoed until whatever date was on the piece of paper they made me sign. So I can’t actually review it properly. But I think I can tell you a few things without getting strung up.

Alex Hassell and Aidan Turner (Photo by Dave Benett/Getty Images for Disney+)

David Tennant (Photo by Dave Benett/Getty Images for Disney+)

Katherine Parkinson (Photo by Dave Benett/Getty Images for Disney+)

The lineup was always going to make this enjoyable viewing, even it was shit, let’s face it. Some of my faves are in this – David Tennant, Katherine Parkinson, Danny Dyer, Aidan Turner, Emily Atack… and many more, as they say. It’s a great bunch, and dare I say it, very well cast. Tennant is sneering and chippy as Lord Tony Baddingham, Danny Dyer a perfect Freddie Jones. Bella Maclean is meltingly beautiful as Taggie, and Victoria Smurfit is a brilliant, fragile Maud O’Hara. And if you tell me that there’s a better actor to play hot-headed, principled Irish TV star Declan than Aidan Turner, well I don’t believe you.

The lineup was always going to make this enjoyable viewing, even it was shit, let’s face it

If you’ve been looking at the photos and thinking that Alex Hassell isn’t right for Rupert Campbell-Black, well, you’re not alone. Even Alex admits to being really worried about stepping into his shoes and not exactly looking like everyone expects him to. He’s not blond, for a start. But – and there are no real spoilers here Disney, if you’re reading this – after literally every part of Alex is revealed in the very first episode, as he points out, there’s nowhere really left to hide. So he just got on with it. And honestly, he makes a pretty good fist of it. He’s handsome, dastardly, and has a good bash at Rupert’s hidden depths, such as they are.

The challenge of taking on well-known characters

Many of the actors channelled older family members or situations. As readers of the book will know, Declan is fiercely protective of his family. Aidan said he was able to get into Declan mode by looking back at his own family. “He’s a dad, I’m a dad,” says Aidan. “I sort of related to him. And he’s like my dad, he’s Irish, there’s the hair…”

Nafessa Williams, who plays the gloriously feisty TV exec Cameron Cook, said she couldn’t wait to immerse herself in the ’80s, pointing out that she had family back then who looked exactly like she did in the show, big hair and all. She’d been able to use her own experience as the only American actor in the show, not really having insight into the wonders of the English countryside.

“It’s a lot like life imitating art, right?” she says. “Like, she [Cameron] came from New York to come here, I came from LA. So I understood her coming here and being new and not understanding this world.”

I’m not sure how many slow-burn relationships are allowed to happen in a world of Tinder and so on, so it was extremely enjoyable to play

Katherine Parker plays gentle Lizzie Vereker, and I suspect talking about the situation between her character and that of Danny Dyer’s is off limits, although obviously you can read what happens in the book. But she confesses to being thrilled to be working with him, and their chemistry is lovely.

“I was so pleased that Danny was playing that part. It’s so beautifully drawn throughout the series, their dynamic. And it unfolds over eight episodes, which is a kind of slow-burn relationship. Which feels very ‘80s. I’m not sure how many slow-burn relationships are allowed to happen in a world of Tinder and so on, so it was extremely enjoyable to play.”

And another great team

David Tennant is Lord Baddingham, massively hung up on class and wanting to fit in. He’s anchored by his wife, Lady Monica, played by the excellent Claire Rushbrook, who is very much old school posh, and who gives him the only real class clout he has. David says he loved playing Tony.

“It’s all there, it’s all there in the writing. And it’s very potent, it’s very British. But it’s very human too, you know? Like, [as Tony] I can never quite be where I want to be, to always be disappointed, because no matter how hard you try, there’s a club you’re not allowed to be in. And for someone like Tony, that’s devastating. He can only try harder. And he will never be satisfied because he’s always one peg down from the exclusive club, and it kills him.”

…he will never be satisfied because he’s always one peg down from the exclusive club, and it kills him…

Tony’s a grammar school boy, as opposed to, say, Rupert’s start in life at Harrow. And the chip on his shoulder is enormous. The most important thing to Tony?

“Winning!!” shouts Tennant, quite literally, channelling Tony alarmingly right there in the screening room. “Whatever that means, and whatever the situation… because he can never have the ultimate prize, he must have ALL the other prizes.” Tennant laughs. “He’s very balanced. There’s no daddy issues here, AT ALL!”

On scenes with Claire Rushbrook as his wife, Lady Baddingham. “I love those scenes, because it’s where all his armour falls away, and you get to see the little boy again. And he’s sort of got his mum there, that comfort. He’s very at home with her, and absolutely needs her. And he kind of runs this extraordinary lifestyle of treachery and debauchery, but he always has to have Monica.”

Best part of the night was seeing Jilly Cooper

Dame Jilly Cooper attends a special UK screening of “Rivals” (Photo by Dave Benett/Getty Images for Disney+)

It’s not often I fangirl massively, but honestly. It’s DAME JILLY COOPER! After a lifetime of reading her books and words, I actually found it quite emotional to see her in the flesh. She was utterly divine, just so happy with the production and telling all the girls how beautiful they were and all the men how handsome. Plus ca change, Jilly! She’s a rather marvellous 87 now, and looking good on it. Plenty of the old Cooper sparkle, and clearly having a whale of a time at the do. I didn’t get to corner her, and probably would have been too shy really. But it was enough to have been there for this whole event.

As for the show – well, I could have sat there and binged the whole lot in one go. Which is, I suspect, what will happen when it finally airs. It’s one hundred per cent a ‘romp’ and not to be taken massively seriously. I absolutely loved it, and really hope they make the entire Rutshire Chronicles into telly shows, if they’re going to be like this.

Jilly Cooper’s Rivals launches on 18 October on Disney+ in the UK

Don’t say: “I’ll have a soya matcha latte with a gluten-free protein bar.”
Do say: “More champagne and keep it coming, and pass the Dunhills.”

Sam Harrington-Lowe

Sam is Silver’s founder and editor-in-chief. She’s largely responsible for organising all the things, but still finds time to do the odd bit of writing. Not enough though. Send help.

The post First look: Jilly Cooper’s Rivals is a wild ride appeared first on Silver Magazine.

In the summer sun, there’s two things you need. An ice-cold beverage of choice, and a little something to read. Here are some of our top summer book recommendations. Whether you’re into romance, drama, horror, thrillers, science fiction… we’ve got something on this list for you. 

 Crime – A Cyclist’s Guide to Crime and Croissants by Ann Claire

Cosy mystery. Set against the backdrop of the stunning French countryside, crime and murder build up, hitting close to home for recently migrated Sadie, who is left grappling for clues as her bicycling tour company comes under scrutiny when her old boss ends up dead. 

Drama –  Apples Never Fall by Liane Moriarty

A tense family drama. When a successful family begin to crumble and crack, questions arise. But do the Delaney family want to solve these mysteries, when the now-grown children realise that the most obvious suspect in their mother’s disappearance is their own father? 

Historical – Glorious Exploits by Ferdia Lennon

Set in 412 BC after the failed invasion of Sicily. Two local potters begin to visit prisoners, enticing them to recite lines from Euripides in exchange for food. With little real work to do, Lempo and Geldon decide to perform a play with the help of the prisoners. But as the show date creeps closer, it becomes difficult to distinguish between enemies and friends. This historical tale will have you hooked. 

Romance – Beach Read by Emily Henry

Two writers. One holiday. A romcom waiting to happen… Both broke writers suffer from crippling writers block, amongst other things.  Despite their different writing styles, the pair place a bet to swap genres and see who gets published first. You could say this is the perfect ‘Beach Read’.

Horror – Nightbitch by Rachel Yoder

A transformation begins. Motherhood is hard, tiring, and exhausting. At home full time with a two-year-old, this protagonist’s loneliness is suffocating, but her hobbies are changing. Instead, when her child won’t rest, she begins to gain new things… New senses, new appetites, new instincts. And from deep within herself, a new voice begins to howl. This hilarious and brilliantly unique horror tale will have you at the edge of your seat. 

Mystery- The Wrong Daughter by Dandy Smith

What would you do if you came home to find your daughter missing from her bed? When Caitlin and Olivia’s parents leave them to go to a dinner party, they return to find one bed empty. Their eldest daughter is gone. Until a now grown Olivia steps forward. But is she all that she seems? And is Caitlin telling the truth about what happened that night? Dark, and chilling, this page turner is not one to be missed this summer. 

Thriller – Yellowface by R.F Kuang

How far would you go to have commercial success? When failed writer June Hayward witnesses her rival Athena Liu die in a freak accident, she sees her opportunity to get what she wants, and takes it. Stealing Athenas final manuscript and publishing it as her own, she also begins to steal Athenas identity. An identity that is not hers to claim. This best seller will certainly keep you entertained, and shocked at the extent some will go to for success. 

Murder Mystery:Murder on Stage by F.L Everett  Set in 1940’s England, detective Edie York focuses on solving a suspicious murder in the midst of the Blitz. Warm, cozy and compelling, this page turner will have you on the edge of your seat as you dive into a world of crime. Do you have what it takes to solve a murder? This is the third book in the Edie York mystery series, and they just keep getting better.

Dystopian – The Blueprint by Rae Giana Rashad

Maybe dark dystopian futures are your thing? Set in a dystopian Texas where choice no longer exists, Solenne Bonet has an algorithm determine her occupation, spouse, and residence. She finds peace in penning the biography of an enslaved ancestor from 1800s Louisiana. But when paths weave with high-ranking government officials, she must decide whether and how to leave behind all she knows.  

Science fiction- I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream and Other Greatest Hits,  by Harlan Ellison

 Now this book is for anyone who wants to have an existential crisis pool-side. Filled with five stories, each unique and slightly terrifying, these science-fiction futures are certain to entertain. But most importantly you won’t want to look at technology for the rest of your holiday duration. 

Fantasy- The Midnight Library by Matt Haig

A magical library filled with secrets. How would you look back at your life? And what would you regret? On her last day on earth Nora finds herself teleported to a magical library. Where she is given the chance to undo mistakes and look at all the other lives she could have lived. But is it too late, things have already gone from bad to worse? And with unlimited choices and possibilities what is the best way to live? 

 Another article you may like: Getting your car ready for a summer roadtrip

 Comedy – I Hope This Finds You Well by Natalie Sue 

After an unfortunate IT error allows Jolene access to all her coworkers emails and private messages, initially she is horrified. The less she knows about them the better.  However, once she realises the power she now holds, Jolene uncovers a lot more than she bargained for. Filled with humour and a little romance, this is one for the pool-side.

 Fiction- Martyr! by Kaveh Akbar

Not all journeys’ have to be to outer space. Cyrus has always been lost. He’s grown up haunted by the mysteries of his past, losing his mother whose plane was shot down. This tale explores how revelations and new people can change your life, whether it be for the good or the bad. 

Non-fiction –It’s Not Hysteria (Everything You Need to Know About Your Reproductive Health) by Karen Tang

Women’s health often flies under the radar. Many of us know what it is like to go to the doctors with a feminine issue, and feel unheard. It’s Not Hysteria explains crucial information about abnormal periods, PCOS, endometriosis, and fibroids, to more complex aspects of gynaecological care like fertility, sexual health, and hysterectomies. This book empowers readers to act and advocate for themselves with healthcare professionals, and get talking about reproductive health.  

Isabella Poderico

Overly enthusiastic and obsessed with everything a little nerdy, Isabella has written about everything from movie premieres to politics. She can often be found, as many writers often are, sitting in front of her laptop typing away obsessively in an extortionately priced independent coffee shop.

The post Summer book recommendations 2024 appeared first on Silver Magazine.

Whether you’re travelling by car, train, plane or coach, whether for work or leisure, a little creativity and preparation can go a long way to transform what could be seemingly endless boredom into endless fun. Here are some great ways to make a long journey more entertaining and enjoyable.

Make a travel playlist

Music is many people’s go-to when it comes to filling time on a journey of any length. Why not add new artists and songs to a special travel playlist? This could be a great opportunity to discover new favourite genres and artists. A great way to make a long journey more entertaining.

Alternatively, you can stick to the music you already know and love. Getting lost in your favourite beats, melodies and lyrics is never a bad way to spend a few hours.

Read a new book or listen to an audiobook

If you’ve been putting off getting back to that book you started reading or picking up a new one, a long journey is the perfect time to commit. Diving into a good story or an inspiring autobiography can help you lose track of time and seemingly reach your destination a little sooner.

For those who get travel sick while reading, listening to audiobooks is a great alternative to consider. You can sit back, eyes open or closed, and follow the story along without having to focus on the words in front of you.

Play games

Playing games alone or with your fellow travellers is an engaging way to pass the time on a long journey. Depending on your mode of transportation, you could get out a pack of cards or set up a board game, or play multiplayer games on your phones or tablets.

From the thrill of mobile slots to the competitive worlds of Fortnite and Warzone. There are so many options when it comes to playing games during travels. It doesn’t matter if you’re travelling alone or with others, gaming is always there to provide relief from travel boredom.

Watch films or videos

There’s always the option to sit back and relax with your choice of films, TV shows or videos. Many people indulge in movie marathons, particularly on planes. You could enjoy a series of films, binge-watch a TV show you’ve been dying to watch or deep-dive into your favourite YouTube channels. This is a great option on your phone, tablet or laptop. Bring a good pair of headphones for the full effect!

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The post How to make a long journey more entertaining appeared first on Silver Magazine.

Inspired by her love for history and cosy crime, Everett dreamed up Edie York. A Manchester-based reporter stuck answering telephone calls at her local paper. Until she gets caught up in the death of a Home Guard soldier.

Everett shares how her book deal came about, after thirty years as a journalist, how WWII became the setting for her series, and the solitude that comes with being a writer. 

Who are you, and what’s going on?

F. L. Everett

I’ve been a journalist, columnist and editor for thirty years. I’ve self-published a novel and had several non-fiction books published. But during the pandemic, I turned 50, my son had long left home, I’d finally rejected the terrifying concept of getting a full-time job, and I decided it was time to concentrate on a novel I first started ten years ago, and see if I could get it published.

Writing fiction is all I’ve ever wanted to do – but with the need to earn a living it’s been hard to give it the time it needs to succeed. I felt it was now or never, so I sent a tweet in reply to publisher Bookouture’s request to see new synopses, and they liked the idea enough to follow it up. Two years later, I have a three book deal to write the Edie York series, about a brave and nosy young journalist in WWII Manchester. Who keeps getting drawn into murder investigations.

The first is out on 21 September, and book two is already written.

What aspects of your life experiences do you find yourself drawing upon most frequently as you craft the characters and plots in your crime novels?

I have been a journalist on a local paper but obviously not during WWII. People don’t change that much though, and I’ve met many people who have lent a little of themselves to the characters. In Annie, Edie’s best friend, there’s a bit of my own dearest friends – people who can sometimes annoy you, but you love them enough for it not to matter. I loved writing about Edie’s newspaper colleagues, and I believe I’ve made them up – but who knows!? 

Her editor, Mr Gorringe, is a stickler for grammar – and so is my dad. So I think I’ve probably borrowed little bits here and there. In Lou, my irascible detective inspector, I can see certain elements of my husband. I didn’t think I was anything like Edie – until I described her to my best friend (‘small, nosy, won’t take no for an answer’) and she snorted. 

In terms of plot, that really is made up. But I know Manchester very well, having grown up there and lived nearby until ten years ago. I now live in the West Highlands, but I go back all the time to see family and friends. The book is a bit of a love letter to my home town. I do a lot of research to find out where certain buildings would have stood in 1940, where was bombed and when. It’s given me a new appreciation for the buildings that stayed standing!

Could you share a glimpse into your writing process? How do you go about developing a crime storyline that keeps readers engaged?

I wish I had a process. Basically, I begin with the victim, and the circumstances of the murder scene, then work backwards to figure out who killed them and why. I don’t know if this is the normal path for a cosy crime writer, but it’s the only way I can do it. I spend a lot of time on long dog walks, thinking about alibis and red herrings, and I make voice-notes on my phone, like Alan Partridge. But I am a plotter, not a ‘pantser’ – I can’t imagine making it up as I go along. 

I begin with the victim, and the circumstances of the murder scene, then work backwards

Before I start, I write a detailed synopsis, then I break it down into chapters. It makes the process much easier. Did I mention I’m a Virgo who packs two days before a trip, and likes to do my washing on holiday, so I come home with clean clothes? Yeah. These things go deep. 

I also discuss certain things with my husband Andy, who has worryingly acute insight into how a killer’s mind might work. But largely, I just do what I’ve always wanted to do. Sit at my desk, or the kitchen table, with the cat and snacks nearby, and make it up. 

Crime novels often involve intricate details and suspenseful twists. How do you approach research to ensure your stories are both captivating and authentic?

First of all, I have an amazing historian friend, Catherine Pitt (of Pitt Stops, on Facebook). She’s been absolutely invaluable with the second book, which is quite complicated and needed a lot of research. I’d message things like ‘could you get a train to London from Manchester in April 1941 without stopping?’ and she’d find out within five minutes.

I also read a lot of WWII social history books. I have an entire bookcase dedicated to them, and I find myself ordering even more. At first it was just the basics, but now I’m getting into the obscure, white-label imports. I love reading about it, and I hate the feeling that I might be getting things wrong. I like my fiction to be rooted in genuine history. I also watch films set during the war, like Mrs Miniver and This Happy Breed. They’re invaluable for getting dialogue and class issues right. I have been to the Imperial War Museum North in Salford and the Police Museum in Manchester, both of which are incredible repositories of historic research. And then, of course, there’s Google. 

I love reading about [WWII], and I hate the feeling that I might be getting things wrong. I like my fiction to be rooted in genuine history.

In terms of plot, I love reading crime and have done since I was ten. I tend to think ‘would I guess the killer? And if so, would I guess why?’ and having read so much Golden Age crime is a real help in terms of pacing and plot twists. 

With three crime novels in the works, have you planned out all of them in one go? Or will you wing it?

No, one at time, although I do have a rough idea of the general themes of each one. I’ve just written the plot synopsis for book three, so I’ve done the hard work. Now I just have to write it.

Read more interviews – Joe McGann’s sober companion: an interview about an intervention

Many writers find inspiration from other art forms, like music or visual art. Are there any unexpected sources that have influenced your approach to crime fiction?

Yes. I think being a journalist means you’re interested in lots of different things, and I love a bit of culture. There’s reference to the arts in all of the books so far. I love researching the cultural aspects of life in the war – what they’d have seen in galleries, or at the pictures, and what music and theatre they’d enjoy. I spend a lot of time on YouTube doing ‘research.’

And of course, Edie herself is an avid reader of crime novels, so that’s fun too. Though I have to check the publishing dates to make sure she’d have been able to get them from Boots lending library. 

As you’ve transitioned into novel writing, have you discovered any surprising challenges or unexpected joys that differ from your previous work?

It’s all joy so far, apart from structural edits, which mean changing bits around like a Chinese puzzle, only to find your small alteration has messed up an entire sequence of chapter. Other than that though, I love everything about writing novels. It really is the dream. All I want in life is to be left alone to make stuff up. And to make enough money to run an animal sanctuary for abandoned cats, dogs, horses, donkeys, pygmy goats…

Writing can be a solitary endeavour. Do you find opportunities to connect with other writers or readers to discuss your ideas and thoughts? Or just crack on alone?

Being a freelance journalist is pretty solitary these days too. It’s not like when I began back in the ‘90s, when I was going all over town interviewing people in their living rooms. I love people and like to think I have lots of friends, but not when I’m working. I’m extremely solitary as a writer, like some toiling spider in a dark corner. 

It’s not like when I began back in the ‘90s, going all over town interviewing people in their living rooms

I can’t imagine being in writer’s groups and getting ‘feedback.’ Other people’s opinions are the kiss of death, and make me doubt myself. I’d much rather crack on, then find out what they think after it’s published! 

I don’t even like writing in public places like cafes. The noise! And the people! I’m much happier with a cup of tea and deafening silence. Apart from the pets snoring.

Crime novels often explore the darker aspects of human nature. How do you approach delving into these themes while keeping the narrative engaging and not overly grim?

‘Cosy’ crime is a very specific genre – there are rules. You can’t kill children or pets, and you don’t want anything too grisly at the murder scene. It’s more interesting to me to look at the psychological factors at play with crime, than peer at viscera on the pathologist’s slab. I’d always rather watch Endeavour than Silent Witness. So, I adhere to the principle of ‘if the audience doesn’t need to see it, don’t show it.’ 

Can you share a pivotal moment or realisation that pushed you to pursue crime fiction as the genre for your novels?

It’s what I love most as a reader. I think for a long time I was scared to attempt it. I knew nothing about the police or prison, and I wasn’t sure I could make it authentic in any way. Then I realised I could set it in the past, and suddenly I felt freed up to write the sort of book I would love to read.

I think it really began, though, in the school library when I was eleven. I was lurking in there one rainy lunchtime, and came across the Agatha Christie classic, The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. Well, it blew me away. I had never read anything so gripping or surprising. 

My wonderful grandma was a huge classic crime fan, and she introduced me to the rest of Christie, and then Sherlock Holmes stories, and Ruth Rendell. I have loved crime novels ever since, and always dreamed of writing one. I think most crime fans really love the fact that within the boundaries of a novel, calm is brought to chaos. The world is an alarming and random place, but a great crime novel narrates the pursuit of truth and justice, and ends with the case closed. It all goes back to my holiday packing, really. I like calmness and order. And I like to know everything.

In a rapidly evolving literary landscape, what do you hope your crime novels bring to readers that sets them apart and makes them memorable?

I hope they’ll invest in the character of Edie, and in her life during wartime. It’s not so long ago, but in many ways it was such a different world. I’ve tried to bring some lightness to it, as well as the darkness. My grandparents lived through the war and were both very funny. I think a lot of WWII set books overlook the fact that people made jokes, and had little irritations about queuing and sandwiches, as well as dealing with the big things. So I hope the characters feel real, and that the Manchester setting is a reminder that the war didn’t just happen in London. It was everywhere, and everyone suffered in different ways. 

I hope they enjoy trying to solve the mysteries that Edie finds herself wandering into, and lastly, I hope they like the dog. Of course I had to include one. 

Murder in the Blitz by F.L. Everett is available for purchase on 21 September as in paperback, audio, and ebook. 

Sam Harrington-Lowe

Sam is Silver’s founder and editor-in-chief. She’s largely responsible for organising all the things, but still finds time to do the odd bit of writing. Not enough though. Send help.

The post Murder in the Blitz – Interview with Flic Everett appeared first on Silver Magazine.

…it’s 3.56am. Just me, and the red numbers on my alarm clock. I see some grey light poking under the blinds. Planes start circling overhead. The milkman delivers his cargo (who still gets milk delivered in this day and age?). And now, the kicker: the birds start the dawn chorus that signals the start of another interminable day. People the world over salute the sun and I fucking hate it.

Five Years Earlier…

16th July

7 HOURS, 22 MINUTES

Two heavy Sainsbury’s bags in hand, I navigate the front door. I’m still in gym gear from my Power Plate class. This is my ‘magic Friday’ routine, when I am not in the office. I’m surprised to see my husband standing in the living room.

My husband and I have been together for 13 years, married for nine, but busy careers and the competitive tiredness caused by two children born 20 months apart mean things have started to fracture. (I am 42, he is a couple of years younger.) I know things haven’t been great for a while, but I distracted myself with my job, friends, and family. He starts speaking. I only hear part of what he’s saying – such is my discombobulation – but the upshot is this; he wants to call time on our marriage.

I have heard people talking about Sliding Doors moments, about rugs being pulled from under them. Now I know what they mean. Nothing will ever be the same again.

I can’t recall exactly what happens next but I do have one mission and I won’t be swayed from it. Our boy is having his sixth birthday party the next day and I am making a football pitch cake. (The Sainsbury’s bags contain roll-out icing, green food colouring and some little goals. I had even sketched out the lines on a piece of paper. This was going to be a major achievement; I am no baker.) Somehow, I manage to sleepwalk through the making of the cake. At some point, I call my best friend and burst into tears, but mostly I am on autopilot.

19th July

0 HOURS, 0 MINUTES

I am upset, exhausted and worried about the future. On Sunday night, I visit P, a ‘school mum’ friend who is a therapist. We have been confidantes for some time. For ethical reasons, P won’t counsel me formally, though she recommends a colleague who might. For now, I stick that in my back pocket.

P says I need to act with ‘grace’ and ‘restraint’ towards my now-former partner.

The most important thing is for me to get some sleep, she says, so I can continue to take care of the rest of my life – especially as she knows my history of insomnia.

I wonder about sleeping tablets, which I used briefly and intermittently during my Insomnia Mini-Crash. They did occasionally grab me a few hours here and there. P can’t advise me, but I resolve to see my GP the next day and ask for some pills.

20th July

0 HOURS, 0 MINUTES

I am dazed with sleeplessness. On the way to work, I stop off at the walk-in service at my local GP practice. I tell the doctor I have had some bad personal news. He is harried, in a rush. Almost without looking up, he grabs his green prescription pad and writes me a two-week prescription for temazepam, an old-fashioned sleeping pill. He then ‘ups’ my trazodone, the anti-depressant I have been taking in small doses as a sleep aid for the past four years…

…Year Eight…

10th September

0 HOURS, 0 MINUTES

…still, I don’t sleep.

From the frazzled neurons of my brain comes a thought. I’ve had insomnia for almost a decade now. There has to be a more effective treatment than drugs and the entry-level talking therapy offered by the NHS.

Maybe things have moved on since I first sought treatment…

Last week, I begged my father to help me find another way. He has heard of a private GP with a sympathetic reputation. Tonight, the doctor comes to call.

The GP tells me there is an NHS ‘sleep clinic’ based within a 90-minute drive. I am ecstatic. How come this has never shown up in my Googling before? The doctor promises to write a referral letter to the clinic. ‘We offer diagnostic tests and treatments to people with a great range of sleep disorders from all around the UK,’ reads its impressive website. This bodes well!

Miranda Levy

The Insomnia Diaries: How I learned to Sleep Again by Miranda Levy (Paperback) £9.99

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The post Book excerpt: The Insomnia Diaries appeared first on Silver Magazine.

I’ve been trying to come up with decent romantic novels, and despite a degree in Eng Lit and thirty-six years’ experience as a book reviewer, I can’t think of a single one. I mean, apart from the obvious one.

In fact, you can probably come up with the top three yourself. (Google will deliver the same three if you can’t be bothered to do it yourself). The other two are Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre, which seems to me to be stretching the concept of ‘romance’ somewhat.

Dickens, Thackeray, Trollope, even Austen and Eliot, are all wonderful writers, but their work is founded in wish fulfilment

Looking at lists generated by an internet search can be a dismal affair for those who take their literature seriously. I looked at the results of a poll conducted by National Public Radio (NPR), the worthy non-commercial sector of American broadcasting, and it was quite the eye-opener.

NPR persuaded 18,000 people to write in with their suggestions and, scrolling down the lists (there are several categories: historical, paranormal, what have you) I find myself looking at a lot of book covers showing muscled hunks and bosomy women in revealing dresses. Revealing, either because they are marvellous satin ballgowns, or because they have become somewhat décolleté after a romp in a haystack. Always a haystack. And if not a haystack, then a stable. Where there is, of course, hay.

Every single one of them is by a woman. Or says they are. I suspect there may be a few men writing under pseudonyms in this racket. Here are some picks from the top of the deck (the ‘historical’ section).

Ravished, by Amanda Quick: “Fossil-hunting rector’s daughter Harriet Pomeroy summons the notorious Viscount St. Justin to sleepy Upper Biddleston …”

Lord of Scoundrels (part of the Scoundrels series) by Loretta Lynda Chase (“… stands out for the matchless banter between gruff, unruly Sebastian Ballister, Marquess of Dain, and his lovely nemesis Jessica Trent …”)

The Rules of Scoundrels, also a series, by Sarah MacLean, is about “four notorious aristocrats”, who learn that “love has a way of offering absolution”.

I could go on, but then you might think I’m deliberately taking the mickey. I am not. Do you begin to see a pattern here? Maybe one or more of these is one of your favourites. And maybe, despite superficial similarities, each one of the novels I have mentioned is a tour-de-force of originality.

It was while I was thinking about this subject that I read an article by the great critic, John Lanchester, in which he articulated something that had been bothering me for decades. “The reader whose idea of the novel is formed by the English canon may at some stage start to read books in the French tradition.

“At that point, it may suddenly seem that everything one has previously read has essentially been children’s literature. Dickens, Thackeray, Trollope, even Austen and Eliot, are all wonderful writers, but their work is founded in wish fulfilment, happy endings and love conquering all … When you turn from that tradition to the work of Laclos, Flaubert, Balzac, Stendhal, Maupassant and Proust, it’s like getting a glass of ice water in the face.”

He’s right. The so-called romantic novels mentioned above cannot really be counted as literature, that’s obvious; putting Dickens etc into an adjacent camp is, to say the least, audacious. But it’s a thought that’s very hard to shake off once you’ve come across it. (In the same essay I’ve quoted from above, Lanchester mentions the doyenne of English romantic novelists, Barbara Cartland, who “wrote 723 books in total. Nobody cares, because they’re all shit.”)

When I read Madame Bovary, it kind of inoculated me from every romantic feeling that fiction had to offer

I struggle to think of any novel in English literature where I have been affected by a central romance. Possibly I moped after Estella in Great Expectations for a bit. I remember thinking, while wading, heavy-footed, through Middlemarch, “what’s so bad about Casaubon? He’s a serious scholar, for goodness’ sake.”

I remember reading Evelyn Waugh’s A Handful of Dust when I was a teenager and falling in love with Brenda Last. If you do not know the work, Brenda Last is a shockingly poor choice of woman. Based on his own unfaithful first wife, Waugh portrayed a woman so vain and thoughtless and selfish that she sobs with relief when she finds out that it is her son, and not the worthless lover who shares his first name, who has died in a hunting accident. But I was in love, from a distance, at the time, and I thought women were simply like that.

When I read Madame Bovary, it kind of inoculated me from every romantic feeling that fiction had to offer. And I think that was precisely Flaubert’s intention.

So I am afraid I cannot offer any advice for Valentine’s Day reading. I presume everyone here has read Pride and Prejudice? That’s your lot, as English romantic novels go.

Try Lezard’s holiday reads

Nicholas Lezard

Nicholas Lezard has been a freelance writer since God was a boy. He writes the Down and Out column for the New Statesman, and lives in Brighton.

The post Lezard’s best romantic novels for Valentine’s Day – or not… appeared first on Silver Magazine.