Jul 2026 – The Lotus Readers

Books That Were Controversial at Book Club

Posted on 27th Jul 202627th Jul 2026 by thelotusreaders

Around ten years ago I used to run my own book club at home. It was just a group of my friends, a couple of my mum’s friends and a few people we knew a little who were really keen on reading more. We were a very close knit group after a while and a really diverse mix between the ages of 18 and 65. Some worked full time and others had been full time mums and housewives, a couple had disabilities and there were very varied educational backgrounds. Some had lived local to Lincolnshire all their lives, others had lived in Eastern Europe, Africa and Australia. I was expecting some controversy, but I was surprised by some of the books that caused the most discussion. Often late into the night. I always themed the cake to the book, on one occasion causing its own controversy when I teamed Kathryn Stockett’s The Help with chocolate cream pie. I thought I’d share with you those books that seemed to strike a chord with the group. Sadly, life got in the way as it often does. My relationship broke down and we sold the big house. I had to downsize and since some of our members were his friends it was difficult to keep it going while things were turbulent. I have great memories though and I thought I’d let you into a few of our (printable) discussions.

Her husband deserved it…

This one is an obvious one as it seemed to cause controversy across here and across the Atlantic. I know everyone found this book an incredible read and it was one that everybody in the group read. It inspired the nature/ nurture discussion first of all, was Kevin the way he was because his mother suffered post-natal depression and didn’t bond with him? Was her creeping sense that he was evil a self-fulfilling prophecy or had she detected something innate that predisposed him to evil? It’s easy to argue either case. What most readers found absolutely infuriating about the book was her husband – I think I remember the phrase ‘wilful stupidity’. Despite all signs to the contrary, he simply did not see a problem with his son and when he did seemed to think it would fix by itself. Some were so frustrated with him they thought he deserved what he got. For me the guinea pig incident was the absolute end! That would have been a call to social services to safeguard my daughter. It was obvious what would happen next. The part we found most intriguing was that she visited her son after he was jailed, would such a terrible mother do that? He had taken away her husband, but that was more of a plus for some readers, and her daughter but still she felt some responsibility to him. Even while neighbours were painting obscenities on her house she was still, trying to be his mother. We did talk about Kevin, long into the night.

She never stopped whining..

Well this was one I didn’t expect to cause any problems at all. A nice gentle read about finding yourself, while travelling through several different countries. I loved it. So it was a huge surprise when it was a DNF for some people. It wasn’t even that they were bored. They were furious! One of our readers was so cross that she left the book behind. She found the author entitled and very, very lucky to get a huge advance that enabled her to travel and write. This angle had never occurred to me. I thought the author was equally frustrated with herself for being dissatisfied with life, she felt spiritually sick and the ashram was a huge part of dealing with that. Another felt that most of us feel that way at some point but she should try being a single mum for twenty years while working full time to pay a mortgage. Some of us don’t get to leave. I guess a bit of perspective could be equally valuable and would have been a very different book. In the end we were so split on this one that we put the film on instead. It turns out Liz Gilbert isn’t for everyone.

Dad had a lot to answer for …

I thought after our discussions on motherhood it might be interesting to look at the role of fathers and this was a great place to start. In a similar situation to the mother in We Need To Talk About Kevin, the book follows the aftermath of a shooting. Dr Paul Allen, well regarded doctor with a wife and children, is shocked when he gets a call about the shooting of a presidential candidate. They are accusing Daniel, his son from his first failed marriage, of being the shooter. Paul can’t comprehend this, Daniel was always a good kid wasn’t he? With a few people in the group working within social services, teaching or healthcare there were those very keen to point out the damage that can be done by an absent father. Around two thirds of the group were shocked that after his marriage failed Paul chooses to take a job on the east coast of the US, a whole country away from his son. I couldn’t understand this choice, because in my mind kids have to be a priority. Also his ex-wife didn’t get any choice, they could have split the child care if he’d stayed and both had a career. Maybe he’d not be chasing top flight jobs or progressing as quickly, but I felt his child was more important. I was genuinely surprised when other women in the group felt his decision was justified, that he should go for the promotion because then he would be able to provide more for his family. He could afford to fly his son out to where he was in the school holidays, but would that be the same as being in the same city? Some felt that a primary age child having to fly across the continent alone to spend time with his dad was probably scary. Of course none of this is an excuse for shooting someone but this provoked a debate where there had to be an agreement to disagree.

The ‘push button clitoris’…

It’s really hard to state how much I dislike this book and I really didn’t want to read it at book club. Our usual way of choosing books was to drop suggestions into a little letter box I made and then draw one out at the end of the evening. Every so often though a book will come along that everyone is reading and talking about and so many in the club wanted to read it that we decided to give it a go. From my perspective the most controversial thing said in the discussion about this book was that it was romantic. I asked what Christian did that was romantic and most said that he whisked her off in a helicopter, bought her gifts and clothes. To me that is just throwing money around. I said that women’s rights were in an appalling state if this was seen as a romantic relationship. Some felt that they had an agreement and once Anastasia had agreed to be his ‘sub’ everything he did was consensual and agreed beforehand. Others thought that Anastasia slowly changed him and got some of her power back, disagreeing with some aspects of their agreement. Others felt like there wasn’t enough negotiation to make it truly equal and that he overstepped on more than one occasion. I described Christian as creepy and a borderline stalker. I think the older members were more angry about this book than younger ones. The consensus seemed to be that while sexual activity is different for all couples, it was Christian’s control outside of the bedroom that really offended – choosing her clothes, her contraception, ensuring she see his choice of gynaecologist and be waxed like a Barbie. There was also concern about the depiction of their sex life and my favourite quote comes from my mum who said Anastasia had a ‘push button clitoris’ that only needed one press for her to orgasm. This made me laugh so much but there’s also a serious side to what she said – would young girls reading this think there was something wrong with them if they don’t orgasm immediately? Similarly would they think control was sexy and desirable? Books like this one send feminism back decades and in my opinion the best place for it was the bin.

Other Opinions That Caused a Stir

The Colour Purple – wasn’t cheerful enough. Could we please read more upbeat books (we did and found nothing to talk about on the night)

The Time Travellers Wife – Henry was a child abuser. This wasn’t romantic. Henry was selfish. Once he realised he could travel back to Claire when she was a child he should have stopped. He was the adult and basically groomed her.

One Day – couldn’t have cared less. “I felt nothing for these characters.”

Life After Life – “what the hell was going on?” I had no idea what was real and what was make believe.

We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves – WTAF? 😱 Absolutely no one saw that coming!

Uncategorized

Library Dreams

Posted on 26th Jul 2026 by thelotusreaders

What’s your biggest dream?

Ever since I was a little girl and visited Scunthorpe Library every other Saturday morning I have had the same dream. That someone like me could one day walk into the library and borrow my book. It’s hard to overstate how much I loved the library when I was little. Unless I had a book token, we couldn’t really afford to buy books. One of my most treasured presents was from my teacher Mrs Milmer when I was about eight years old. She got married and moved away and I sent her a paperweight as a gift. She wrote me a beautiful letter of encouragement that I still have and she sent me a book token. I used it to buy a notebook to start writing. She was my favourite teacher, in fact looking back I don’t think anyone ever stretched or appreciated my imagination like she did. My best friend Zoe and I would write long stories about ghosts in attics, time travelling mammoths and anthropomorphic animals – I’ve always loved an animal in human clothing, I blame Lewis Carrol and CS Lewis. My animals were not quite as upper class as those classic creatures, mine tended to wear flat caps, argue with their wives and disappear to the pub. My parents watched Emmerdale religiously. To be able to read as voraciously and widely as I did was down to teachers who realised I could go through the whole reading scheme in an afternoon and let me roam the school library for classic novels, but mainly it was my mum who made sure that reading for pleasure was part of our upbringing.

Alongside that came a love of writing, even if it was only the journals I’ve been using since I was a similar age and got a lockable diary. I have them in hat boxes under the bed and my best friend is under strict orders to burn them when I die. I am full of book ideas, scraps and fragments of potential books live on my iPad and in notebooks but for some reason I never seem to pull together a full book. I think I lack discipline, having chronic health issues doesn’t help but it isn’t the reason I haven’t managed this dream. There are self-doubts of course. Is anything I write good enough? When I look at some of the extraordinary writers I encounter through blogging I’m in awe of their talent. Blogging has also helped me realise that a finished manuscript and the book that appears on the shelf can be two very different things. What I write at my desk will be rewritten, edited and shaped to be the best it can be with the help of editors, proofreaders, agents and all the other people who help a book along the publishing process. I know now that at 52, I really do need to get on with it if my dream of seeing my book on a library shelf is to come to fruition. Wish me luck.

Squad Pod Collective

Sugartown by Caragh Maxwell

Posted on 25th Jul 2026 by thelotusreaders

What do you do when you’ve ruined your life? You go home to your mother, if you’re lucky enough still to have one. Saoirse Maher wouldn’t recommend it.

Leaving home wasn’t supposed to be temporary. When she moved to London, Saoirse was leaving Ireland behind for good, and with it her messy, broken family. But it turns out that starting again isn’t as easy as she imagined, and when her five-year relationship goes south, Saoirse finds herself out of options. And so here she is, trudging back to her mother Máire’s house up a side road on the outskirts of Irish civilisation.

Except the world she comes back to is nothing like the one she left behind. Her mother has a new family, and everyone else seems to be moving on. But between the drinking, drugs, and an entirely healthy, not-problematic-at-all-thanks relationship with Charlie, there’s plenty to distract her.

Don’t look too closely, and everything’s fine. Saoirse is just fine.

This was one of those books where the narrative voice captures you straight away and you know you’ll follow wherever she takes you. Saoirse is in her early twenties, newly returned to a small town in the Irish midlands when her big life in London doesn’t go as planned. Now back under the roof of her mother, her second husband JJ and their three perfect daughters, all Saoirse can see is the difference between the mother her little sisters have and the mother she had at the same age. Back then Máire was young and struggling, with a husband who’d rather drink his wages than bring them home to his wife and child. In fact Saoirse can remember being in her mother’s car, driving from pub to pub to look for him. There was so much drama between her parents she might as well have been invisible. When she contrasts this with Lily, Grace and Emilia’s life she can see the difference but she can’t understand it; are they just more lovable than her? She notices the way her mother Máire dotes on them, puts their hair into identical plaits but stops short of identical clothes, reads to them at night and makes sure they’re cared for and these small expressions of love hit Saoirse like poison darts. Her sisters even get to call her Mammy, something that Máire was very clear about:

“I was christened Máire Lynch. Not Mammy. That is not my name. I won’t speak to you if you don’t use my name.”

Sometimes she wonders if the impression she has of their relationship is distorted but then she remembers Granny Lynch, the person who cared for her most asking her aunt to give her some leeway; ‘leave her be, you’ve met her mother.’ Granny’s is the only place she had stability and felt loved for herself, just for existing. Even now, at the age of 24, Saoirse feels her mum’s bite as she bullies her out of bed in the morning, insists she does an interview for the local hardware store and is insistent that JJ shouldn’t have to keep her. Saoirse just wanted a few days grace to gather her thoughts and adjust, but now she’s everything she didn’t want to be, living back with her mother in a small Irish town and doing a job that has no meaning and pays enough money to get by week to week. Then, with her friend Doireann she spends it on alcohol and drugs to forget the tedium and disappointment of life for a few hours. She isn’t even allowed to express her disappointments because Máire is right there, ready to tell her what it was like to be her age with a baby and an alcoholic husband. The author uses wit and humour, even within the darker themes and here Saoirse talks about the ‘overarching theme of the Annual Irish Suffering Olympics’. If you complained about a broken toe, someone else had lost their foot in a mowing accident, so you should ‘get over yourself’. This was such a familiar moment of Irish family humour that it made me smile.

It’s easy to forget Máire’s struggles because Saoirse’s voice is so compelling. It’s no wonder her mother enjoys the routine and stability of her relationship with JJ after the turbulence of marriage to Saoirse’s father. When Saoirse hits rock bottom her dad is briefly there for her, but it’s the first time. Although we concentrate on the mother/ daughter relationship, he has been completely absent in her life. He’s one of those Irishmen who are great at stories and for the craic down at the pub, but they don’t see the state he’s in at home and the way he chooses drink over his family again and again. He seems stable enough at the moment, living with his second wife and making bodhrains in his garden workshop, but he will always let her down. I was concerned that Saoirse would end up living her mum’s life, young, pregnant and with a partner who can’t be trusted. I felt so maternal towards Saoirse throughout and I could see that her lack of parental support left her craving love and acceptance. It’s like a huge hole that can never be filled. Unfortunately it also leaves her open to damaging relationships and when she meets Charlie, through Doireann and her on again off again boyfriend Connor, she falls headlong into tumultuous and possessive feelings.

I was holding on to hope that she could get her life back on track, even when it hits rock bottom and she wakes up in hospital. In the end she turns to counselling and one of the first things they talk about is that emptiness Saoirse feels where the love and support of a parent should be. One line of dialogue in the book broke my heart more than anything and it’s when Máire is throwing all her anger and resentment at her daughter. Their fight turns physical when Saoirse reminds her that she forgot she had a fourth child. When she asks her mother what she’ll tell her little sisters Máire says ‘I’ll tell them to be anyone but you.’ It’s so harsh it stopped me short. Of course in order to heal we look for closure and Saoirse has tried drugs, alcohol, relationships and acting out to fill that hole at her centre. The counsellor asks her some searching questions. What if that closure never comes? What if she doesn’t have a relationship with her mother? Somehow she has to learn to feel that uncomfortable absence without trying to fill it with other things. I felt there was hope that she would build self esteem, because even in the throes of first love she finds Doireann’s relationship with Connor uncomfortable. When she tries to clarify whether they are together or not, Doireann says they’re not ‘together, together’ but it’s great because they both get their space and they’re not making claims on each other. Saoirse is confused and asks Doireann who else she’s seeing, but she’s only seeing Connor while he’s seeing other girls.

“So you do all the things a couple does without the security of knowing you’re not going to get cheated on.”

Of course she could be cheated on whether in an official relationship or not, but the need to point out that only Connor benefits from their arrangement shows that Saoirse does have some expectations and standards. She knows she doesn’t want that kind of relationship. She wants boundaries, exclusivity and respect it’s just that her desperate need for love and acceptance means she settles for less. She also knows that her own capacity for love is immense, saying she would tear herself down to make sure Charlie grew because ‘it was just my way.’ Luckily at this point she moves in with Doireann and her family and sees a totally different way of parenting, a seemingly natural maternity in her mum Karen who struggled to become a parent and sees her daughter as something of a miracle. Saoirse notices that they have saved mementoes of every milestone in their daughter’s life and yet are still able to listen and support her plans to move away from home. When Karen’s had a hard shift at the hospital, Saoirse listens and makes her a cup of tea and Karen tells her she’s a ‘good girleen’ but the compliment is so alien to her she doesn’t know what to do with it. Being mothered makes her realise how complicated it is and opens up the guilt, anger, resentment and thoughts that she could ‘fuck up’ her own daughter. Yet she’s already thinking about how to stop repeating the pattern.

This is a remarkable debut. Every single character felt completely real and the author has captured the awkward vulnerability of youth and a girl who has never had that parental safety net that allows her to experiment and work out who she is. The language is beautiful too from the viciousness of a resentful parent, to the delirium of drug addled parties and the tedium of the hardware store. She describes a silence between her and her mother as weighing on her like ‘wet wool’ and I could feel its heaviness. It all rings true and struck a chord with me about my own teenage years and not always being understood. Some of the descriptive passages are so layered they create tiny moments of stillness within the turbulence becoming passages to breathe in. I found myself responding to the book bodily, so immersed that when the author described a panic attack I realised I was holding my own breath. I felt sad, angry and deeply maternal towards Saoirse and with my counsellor head on I wanted to help. I wanted her to see that she wasn’t the sum of her parents and all the bad things that had happened, that even in the darkest moments there is a tiny spark of light. Any writer that can make a reader feel so much for her characters and their journey is special and I can’t wait to read what Caragh does next, but for now I know Saoirse will be staying with me for a while.

Out now from OneWorld Publications

Caragh Maxwell is a writer living in Sligo town. She graduated from the Trinity College MPhil in Creative Writing in 2023, and her essays, poems and stories have been published in The Irish Times, The Cormorant and other publications. Her writing focuses on the self, memory, and womanhood. Sugartown is her debut novel, and was shortlisted for the 2025 A Post Irish Book Awards.

Netgalley

The Glass Key by Amanda Geard

Posted on 18th Jul 2026 by thelotusreaders

“They do say secrets are revealed one funeral at a time.”

I absolutely adored Amanda’s previous novel The Moon Gate, set at the outbreak of WW2 and straddling Australia, Ireland and the UK. This time she starts her story in Ireland, where Maggie has grown up hearing her mother tell her the bedtime story of The Glass Key. It’s a Nordic fairytale passed down by Maggie’s grandmother Anna Swan, who mysteriously left her home one stormy night years ago, never to return. Now Maggie’s grandfather has died and going through his things, Maggie is shocked to discover a faded wartime letter, asking him to take in a baby. In that moment she realises that Anna Swan was a woman of many secrets.

Only by travelling to Norway and discovering the story of four brave young women whose lives were forever changed by the occupation of their tiny islands, can Maggie uncover the shocking truth about her family – and finally unlock the mystery of the glass key…

There are many historical fiction novels looking at women’s lives during WW2, but I hadn’t read any set on Norway’s many islands, so it brought a different perspective and an atmospheric setting to the story. People becoming displaced and lost during WW2 is close to my heart as my late husband was Polish and both of his parents were displaced during the war: Hannah escaped Warsaw as a small child in the sewers and ended up alone at a Scottish school for refugee children. Whereas Alek was taken to Siberia by the Russians, but somehow escaped and ended up living in the Siberian forests before making his way to England through the Middle East, North Africa and Europe. These individual family stories have huge impact through the generations. Hannah’s dad believed his family to be dead and made his way to America where he remarried. Hannah then had a half-sister in Washington who she only discovered decades later. Amanda shows the chaos of war, not just on the battlefield but in ordinary everyday lives and it brings home how impossible it was to escape the war’s grasp. Through Maggie’s family and four extraordinary women in the Norwegian islands we can see how far the war reached, in fact it’s only for one afternoon on an uninhabited island that the women could let go and clear their minds. Around these archipelagoe there are tiny bays and secret places that are impossible to police, especially when up against local knowledge. It’s no surprise that the allies would use it as the perfect spot for secret assignations. Small boats can be missed in fog and poor weather conditions and although Germany annexed Norway, they haven’t reached these remote places yet. But there’s no doubt they’re coming.

The narrative is a dual timeline split between wartime Norway and modern day Ireland. In Ireland Maggie has had to come home after her grandfather’s death because his home at Hellebore House may have to be sold. Her grandfather Atticus lived there with his Norwegian wife Anna. Anna spent many years in the garden, cultivating Norwegian plants and flowers. She left when Maggie’s mother Freja was young, with no explanation. Maggie’s first instinct, now Atticus is gone, is to try and save the house but as she goes through his things letters from Freja’s mother are hidden away, sketches of Norwegian flowers and a painting of the island of Einevar that she’s never noticed before. The key is a photograph of three young women and a man lying in the grass surrounded by wild flowers. On the back are four names: Liv, Nina, Astrid and Lief and the place, Lyosa. How might these people be connected to her great-grandmother Anna? As Maggie becomes more curious about her family’s past, she also has to face her own past in the shape of first love Jack who has moved back to the area. She doesn’t need to complication as she’s still healing from her divorce and the knowledge that she’s infertile. The Norway narrative is told chronologically as we meet sisters Nina and Liv, their friend Gudrun and a new teacher called Astrid who’s been sent from the mainland to work alongside the formidable school mistress Froken Henrikson. Nina and Liv soon make friends with Astrid after they’re introduced by Gudrun. All the women know the Germans are getting closer and when they find a British man injured in a small boat they assume he is carrying out some secret mission. His appearance sets up a love triangle between him and the fisherman Lief who absolutely adores Liv, but are those feelings reciprocated? Meanwhile, Astrid and Nina are becoming much closer too. When the Germans do arrive, it’s two brothers called Grimm and a man called Bruno Schmitte who is an artist. The tiny population of Einevar can’t predict how the islanders will respond to a German presence. There are those who will resist and place themselves in danger and others who will fall in line, causing a fracture between young people who’ve known each other all their lives. Their last uncomplicated day was spent on Lyosa when, for one afternoon, the friends lie in the sun and don’t think about the war.

There are brilliantly layered and complex characters here, particularly the women. Astrid is brave, very sure of who she is and her feelings. She’s loyal to those she loves and to her country, becoming very close to the sisters, especially Nina. Liv is young and headstrong, placing herself and others in dangerous situations. Lief has adored her for his whole life and will do anything for her, but will that loyalty place him in harm’s way? Liv shelters and nurses an allied agent who drifts onto Einevar having been attacked by German fighters, until he’s fit for the voyage back, knowing that if found out she and Nina would likely end up in prison. I loved how independent the Norwegian women seemed to be, able to sail, weather the elements and forage for themselves. It’s not an easy life, even before the war starts and they are determined to resist the Germans in any way they can. Not everybody on the island thinks this way though, with some becoming close to the German brothers despite it being an affront to family and friends. I did wonder if I could be so brave as to fend for myself without basic utilities and forced to fish or forage for food. These women are so in touch with the land, with its incredible night sky with endless stars and curious Northern Lights. Maggie gets a taste of their lives when she arrives at the cabin in Lyosa to do her family research. It’s like walking back in history with no electricity or running water and gives her an experience of what previous generations had to face just to survive. I also admired the bravery of those who continued to resist despite knowing their capture would mean death or imprisonment and torture.

Motherhood is also a huge theme in the novel, starting with the shock of great-grandmother Anna leaving Freja behind with her father when she was just a child. What caused her to flee and why did Atticus never try to find her? There are many different representations of motherhood, from women who leave their babies, to infertility and being a mother to someone else’s child. If Maggie and Jack were to become close again she has the prospect of being a stepmother while not being able to have her own children, something that echoes through the generations. These women are linked by those experiences but also their talents, such as Freja’s Nordic fairy tales for children once told to her by her mother Anna. Maggie’s creativity also links back to a previous generation, with Liv’s drawings and a book of botanical sketches uncovered to Hellebore House. I loved how the author showed the war’s reach and how one tiny uninhabited island gave the young women a chance to let go of it for just one afternoon. Maggie is the conduit for all the drama of WW2 and these sections of the book are nail-biting in parts. Maggie’s present is more gentle and flows beautifully, resolving the secrets kept for three generations and in a way I didn’t expect. Amanda’s novels are real favourites of mine and this had everything – family secrets, hidden letters, forbidden relationships, espionage and some incredibly brave women who sacrifice everything for the people they love. This is a fascinating read should be on every historical fiction fan’s summer list.

Out now from Headline Review

Meet the Author

Hi, I’m Amanda, and I absolutely cannot WAIT to share my latest novel with you.

THE GLASS KEY is a tale very close to my heart and inspired by the Norwegian Arctic island my husband and I bought when we were 29. Evie Woods said it’s ‘a captivating story that unlocks an emotional doorway to the past’, and well, I love that.

If you’re new to my work, you might like to start with THE MIDNIGHT HOUSE, inspired by a message I found scratched into the rafters of our Irish home, a two-hundred-year-old stone building perched on the edge of the Atlantic. The book was a Richard & Judy book club pick and translated into 8 languages.

THE MOON GATE uncovers the secret behind a mysterious legacy – Towerhurst, an old house crumbling in a rainforest. It takes place across three locations: Tasmania (my home state), London (where we rented a houseboat for many years) and County Kerry, Ireland (where I now live). THE MOON GATE is my most sweeping and beloved book.

I’m also a geologist who explores the world’s remote places. I’ve worked on five continents, and spend months at a time out in the wilds. Writing novels provides a similar sense of discovery, though the conditions rather more comfortable!

You’ll find me on my website, Instagram (@amandageard) and Facebook (@amandageardauthor). I love chatting with readers, so please come on by.

Wordpress Prompts, Writing Therapy

Again and again.

Posted on 16th Jul 2026 by thelotusreaders

Do you think we’re shaped more by our experiences or by who we are?

That depends on what you mean as ‘who we are’. The question suggests a character or personality that’s innate and set in stone, clearly distinguishable from our life experiences. My life is a series of chapters, each one informed by those defining moments where my path can be clearly divided into before and after. Does my character stay exactly the same through all of that? No. Experience changes us.

I broke my back when I was eleven years old, in the last few weeks of primary school in the early 1980s. Our cottage hospital was so basic that I had to lie still on the ward for the weekend, because there was no specialist to review the x-rays till Monday. I remember looking at the ceiling as I was wheeled from room to room, wondering if I would be able to walk. Every time the bed banged against a corner or skirting board a jolt of pain went through my shoulder blade. I didn’t even get a collar or blocks to protect my spine. I broke two vertebrae and crushed a disc, but was sent home with paracetamol and told to rest. There was no physio. No rehabilitation. No spinal unit.

I just got on with it and avoided things that were painful. A couple of years ago I had an MRI of my whole spine because I’ve been suffering pain for forty years. Where my back was broken there’s a lesion in the spinal column and something called a vertebral hemangioma, a benign vascular tumour that forms from clusters of blood vessels. Then there’s scar tissue formed around the injury, caused by the body trying to protect the site but causing stiffness and nerve impingement. Our emotions are like this. Something happens to us and we try to heal. The things we do to cope are like scar tissue, lying over what happened to protect us from the pain.

Each experience teaches us. Did what happened at 11 years old affect me?Yes. I was so scared and I was alone until my parents were called. The school secretary Mrs Boot was sat nearby so I wasn’t alone, but she was no comfort. I wanted someone to tell me it was going to be okay but all the adults seemed more scared than me.

Am I resilient because of what happened then? Or does some essential ‘Hayleyness’ mean I’m able to pick myself and dust myself off? An innate optimism. I think we assume our character is whole and fixed because the alternative is scary. When Princess Diana died the outpouring of grief was a surprise, but the conspiracy theories started very quickly. It’s easier to believe there’s a secret service plot or that the Royal Family had a hand in her death, rather than accept that such a dazzling woman, a princess, could die in a car accident at only 36. It’s too mundane and ordinary. It means she was mortal. Just flesh and blood like the rest of us. It means we have to accept how random life is. That it can end in a moment.

Similarly it’s scary to accept that who we are shifts according to each new season of life. Virginia Woolf probably best captured how fractured and complex our inner worlds are and how changeable. We shift and flow, open to new possibilities and ways of being. I think I’ve learned to enjoy that ebb and flow. To discover new parts of myself all the time. To take on each new challenge and embrace the change within me. Again and again and again.

Reading Life

You Can’t Read The Same Book Twice.

Posted on 16th Jul 2026 by thelotusreaders

Which book have you read more than any other?

‘You cannot step into the same river twice, for it is not the same river and you are not the same man.’

The above quote, attributed to the philosopher Heraclitus, is also applicable to a favourite book. In the time you’ve been away and reading other books, the world has moved on, progressing with new ideas and opinions that bring a fresh focus to an old favourite. We also change as readers. With every new concept learned and each new experience, the filter we view the world through changes and we become open to different interpretations of a novel we know well. The book I’ve read more than any other is Jane Eyre, starting out as a childhood favourite I’ve been reading this book every few years since I was ten. My first read coincided with the BBC adaptation on Sunday evenings, starring Timothy Dalton as Mr Rochester. Back then, for me, it was a romance and a ghost story. I was spellbound by the creepy laugh in the night, the candle set to burn Rochester in his bed and the dark, vampiric ghoul that takes Jane’s wedding veil and tears it in two. Yes I was scandalised that Rochester is already married when he tries to marry Jane, but given the choice I’d rather have him than St. John Rivers who has none of the passion and feeling that Jane needs. At least she knew herself well enough to avoid that path, even before Rochester’s strange telepathic call during the fire. I remember also being horrified by the injustice of Jane’s treatment at the hands of her Aunt and then at Lowood. I also found the death of the incredibly pious Helen Burns being particularly traumatic too. In my teenage years I studied it for my English A’Levels and back then un my teenage angst I felt Jane was lacking in feeling. Why did she have to leave Rochester? I compared her with Wuthering Heights and Catherine Earnshaw, full of passion and running wild. Both characters wander the moors, but Jane is rescued from that wilderness by a man of God. I identified more with Catherine as I wandered the flat fields of Lincolnshire walking our dogs, because she was wandering with the alluring Heathcliff. They ran away from the prying eyes of Nelly and Cathy was also experiencing all those dramatic feelings we have as teenagers. I admired Cathy for never losing her feelings for Heathcliff, by comparison it felt like Jane had chosen the good and holy way, but denied herself happiness. I loved the angst of Wuthering Heights, the constant drama and passionate declarations of love, a love that couldn’t be separated by death. I didn’t understand someone who didn’t choose passion and with my church upbringing I didn’t know if Jane was being true to herself or following the religion of Lowood School and her missionary parents as I was expected to. Cathy was my rebellion and Jane felt too safe.

I next encountered the book in my late twenties at university, alongside a huge amount of context and literary theory. I was learning that I could view the book through so many different lenses and my views were changed even further. I learned so much about 19th Century history and the governess as a cultural figure, from a different perspective I studied post-colonial literature and how important it is to the understanding of Bertha Mason’s marriage with Rochester. It made me wonder about her ‘Creole’ roots and whether it was not so much her madness that was hidden but her mixed heritage. I could imagine how powerless and bewildered she must have felt to be torn from the Caribbean, declared mad and locked in the attic by her husband. I read Wide Sargasso Sea and considered how Bertha has been renamed by Rochester, much like masters would rename their slaves. She is Jane’s double – a cautionary tale of what Jane might have become if she’d stayed the little spitfire who had to be locked in the dreaded red room. Lowood’s founder Mr Brocklehurst had been determined to knock the passion out of Jane’s nature, her spirited way of answering back and lashing out to defend herself against her bullying cousin John as well as her inability to hold her tongue when criticised by her aunt. It’s a broader use of the word ‘passionate’ than we tend to use now. In feminist terms men wanted to break her spirit, to turn her into the model and saintly young woman that Helen Burns was trying to become, never daring to look up from the floor. It made me think about women who are deemed acceptable in society and those that aren’t – inconvenient women who won’t shut up, have educated themselves and want to live life on their own terms. Jane has a freedom as a governess she’s never had before, an ability to earn her own money and use her knowledge to teach. She’s without the pressure to find a husband and marry well, the main focus for an upper class woman like the visiting Blanche Ingram. Jane doesn’t have to socialise and meet men, she can choose to leave and work elsewhere if she’s unhappy. Governesses are liminal figures in fiction, not in a specific class, outside the confines of the marriage market and choosing how they spend their own money. She’s invisible and there is freedom in that invisibility.

When I read the book again recently I had another insight that came from my personal experience. I’d been in an emotionally abusive relationship for a few years and found my way out. Living alone for the first time in ages, I picked up a lot of old books as comfort reads. This experience made me look at Rochester differently, especially in some scenes that had always made me uncomfortable without knowing why. Is the Jane that Rochester claims to love the true Jane? When Jane first meets Rochester, he does try to intimidate her in conversation and finds he can’t. He enjoys her intelligence and seems fascinated by her imagination, the inner world that informs her art work. However, just as young contemporary readers would red flag Heathcliff, Rochester is no stranger to manipulation. He doesn’t tell Jane who he is when they first meet on the lane, instead choosing to surprise her after dinner. He brings the awful Blanche Ingram to Thornfield Hall, just as he and Jane seem to reaching a friendship and instead of allowing Jane to retire gracefully to her room in the evening he insists she stay in the drawing room with his guests. Jane can only sit on the edge of proceedings, as someone of her status should, so why ask her to remain at all? She does hear Blanche’s opinions on governesses and the general expectation that she will become Rochester’s wife. All she wants to do is stay in her place, upstairs with Mrs Fairfax, Adele and Sophie, so his insistence on her presence when all the company ignore her seems cruel. Then there’s the strange incident of the visiting gypsy fortune teller who wishes to read the fortunes of the unmarried ladies at home. Jane is sought out by the woman who claims to know there is another single lady in the drawing room and she obliges the old woman even though she isn’t interested in seeking her fortune. To her surprise the gypsy turns out to be Rochester in disguise. This is far from normal behaviour and so outside of his usual character that the only purpose can be to solicit confessions or secrets from an unwary Jane. Although, judging by her mood he also takes the opportunity to torment Blanche Ingram too. Throughout Jane and Rochester’s interactions there is a definite hot and cold feel to their communications: he hints that she isn’t his friend so she will assert that she is; he tells her stay and leave in the same conversation; he holds her hand a fraction too long. Is the purpose to leave her unsure or unsettled? It leaves Jane unsure of his meaning and intentions, but in the position of his employee she doesn’t want to offend him. He holds all the privileges being an educated and well-travelled man of means and property, sought after in society and with the freedom to come and go as he pleases. Psychologically, the Madonna/Whore Complex is also at play here, because how Rochester describes his wife is very different from how he sees Jane. When discovered to be attempting bigamy he uses words like pure and innocent for Jane and when he thinks of his wife escaping the attic on the eve of his wedding he imagines her standing over the ‘dove’s nest’ Jane sleeps in, innocent and vulnerable. Surely, even as he asks it, he knows Jane won’t agree to be his mistress or take his promised gifts of furs and jewels?

Bringing my own experience to the book I saw that Jane leaving Thornfield was about her asserting her own boundaries. She doesn’t reject his offer of becoming his mistress just because it’s immoral and she fears other people’s opinion, it’s because she could never reconcile it with her own soul. Her wandering on the moors and almost dying of exposure is something of a rebirth, after a dark night of the soul where she wrestles with temptation she’s taken in by the Rivers family. Her subsequent friendship with St. John Rivers, who finds her on the moors, confirms her determination to be true to herself. She can see that an eligible young woman from the village has feelings for him and those feelings are reciprocated but rather than enjoy a marriage based on love, St. John needs to be sure that his future wife has the qualities he needs in a missionary’s wife. His future wife will need to share his mission, willing to suffer hardships, dangerous situations and live in poverty. He sees the qualities he needs in Jane and although he does not love her, he does make an offer of marriage because she has the moral qualities of a missionary and the ability to work hard. It’s here I could see the balanced character Jane has achieved through her life experiences. She rejects Rivers’s proposal on the basis that there’s no passion or love in their relationship. Yes, she would be a great missionary wife but she wants love too. These men are at opposite ends of the spectrum, Rochester is all passion and Rivers is all reason, Jane needs a middle ground and she won’t settle for anything less. After my reread I went to a talk about the book and I was really cross when a woman said that Jane’s return to Rochester is a betrayal of feminism. I argued it wasn’t. Jane makes the very best choice for her life and women making empowered choices is everything feminism is about. Jane is on a very different path when she returns to see Rochester after the fire, she is no longer his employee for a start and soon calls him Edward rather than Sir. She has also become an heiress in her own right, so while she was always his equal in intelligence, she is now his equal financially too. Rochester is also in a different position, with Thornfield burned to the ground he is a widow and trying to save his wife from the flames has left him blind and disfigured. Perhaps in Jane’s eyes this act of heroism redeems him slightly. His disability has left him reclusive, no longer in the highest society but that’s nothing to Jane. If they marry, it’s no longer a case of Rochester changing Jane’s position in society, she has already accomplished that on her own and he is no longer a dominant voice in the marriage. They finally come together as equals.

This is what rereading a book brings, that comfort and familiarity of a known story. Maybe there’s an element of nostalgia too. As I read the book again it’s a Russian doll experience; within this reading are all the other times I’ve read the book. Every discovery I’ve made within its pages informs me but my own changing experiences and societal changes give me a fresh eye every single time.

My favourite film adaptation of Jane Eyre from 2011

The Next Ten Books I Read Again and Again.

The Adrian Mole Series by Sue Townsend – touching, relatable, nostalgic and hilarious.

The Rutshire Chronicles by Jilly Cooper – glamorous, witty and sexy, with a rake we’d all like to reform.

All Creatures Great and Small by James Herriot – cosy and nostalgic animal stories, full of humour and warmth.

The Night Circus -, a love story with dark deeds set in a magical world that’s beautifully rendered.

Little Women by Louisa M. Alcott – the ultimate comfort book with an all time favourite heroine in Jo March.

Plain Truth by Jodi Picoult – a legal battle between the contemporary world and the closed off Amish Community with teenage girl in a heart-rending situation.

Life After Life by Kate Atkinson – a unique premise, Ursula meets the 20th Century again and again.

The Shining by Stephen King – a deserted hotel, hauntings, telepathy and the realisation that the things we fear can be much closer than we think.

The Final Testimony of Raphael Ignatius Phoenix – darkly humorous, deliciously wicked and incredibly clever.

Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier – a brooding widower, a naive girl, a stately home on the Cornish cliffs and a wife who won’t stay dead.

Monthly Wrap Up

Best Reads June 2026

Posted on 4th Jul 2026 by thelotusreaders

I’m writing this from a puddle of my own sweat and with a fan roaring in the background. Every animal has spread their body as far as possible across the wooden floor trying to keep cool. It’s been a stay at home month for sure as my neurological symptoms worsen when it’s hot, within a couple of days I had the texture of a wet noodle. So it’s been a month with lots of reading. I’m organised though, fans in both rooms I use a lot, ice cold water, lollies and ice chips, a neck fan and a handheld motorised fan that’s a god send. Nothing tells you that you’re middle aged more than a neck fan for Christmas. Especially when you’re pleased with it. I’ve been reading for the Squad POD Collective this month, then mainly NetGalley reads in between. There’s a huge range in these favourites as we go to Ireland, Liverpool, Norway, Italy and the US, from the aftermath of WW1 to the present day. There are family sagas, an incredible forbidden love story, a great start to a new crime series, the most talked about book on social media and finally a slice of whimsical joy from Matson Taylor. See you next month 📚

Look at that fantastic gothic cover! This is the dark and dangerous side to my favourite city as disgraced detective Mark Fletcher wakes up disoriented in the Castle Street Hotel. He’s horrified to find he’s in bed with a corpse, a man with a bullet hole in his head. How can he explain this when he has no memory of what happened last night? His finger prints and DNA will be everywhere, so will his disillusioned colleagues believe him if he calls it in? He can take his chances with his old team or he can run. This is the man who caught the Butcher of Bootle, only to watch his life rapidly fall apart nine months ago. Luca Veste takes us on a breathless chase through Liverpool while the crime team are playing catch up. We follow his old colleagues Kirkham and Abs as they investigate a body discovered in a garden in Kirby, making Brookside jokes along the way. Could these two deaths be linked? We’re also introduced to the Bonucci family, patriarch Salvatore and his second in command Gino and Frankie. Everyone knows the Bonucci family, they have legitimate business interests but underlying that is a criminal enterprise that’s seeped into every area of the city. They also blame Mark for the death of Salvatore’s youngest daughter Sofia, a huge lapse of judgement that went terribly wrong. Now Mark is trying to investigate who killed his bedfellow, Kirkham and Abs are 24 hours behind him, but could the Bonucci’s be closer? This is a nail-biting and action packed crime thriller that had me rooting for Mark from the moment he woke up. I loved the Scouse humour and the settings the author used as Mark jumps out of windows and even into the Mersey. The ending is such a shock and very clever indeed. I’m already waiting for the next book.

I’ve not written my full review on this but I can’t stop thinking about it and I’m dying to talk to other people for their opinion. We are introduced to Natalie, a trad wife influencer in the US with a hugely successful social media business and merchandising from their ranch Yesteryear. Natalie espouses the traditional life where the man is the head of the household and the woman looks after the home and their ever growing family. Her husband Caleb works the farm, while she runs the business with the help of two nannies and a producer. The monetisation paradox is clear to see, she’s making a living by preaching values that she doesn’t live by. Natalie wants her followers to embrace her trad view on family life, but has turned her ideology into a successful business run by a woman. Followers can watch her baking bread or collecting eggs from the chickens, but they don’t see her childcare or the producer who live on the isolated ranch with the family. Thanks to some clever remodelling of the house they also have all mod cons, but hidden from view with clever screening. Natalie tells women they should submit to their husbands, while agreeing privately that her own is an idiot. Without her this family would be lost. At university Natalie kept herself to herself, noting her roommate’s promiscuity and feminist viewpoint knowing she would become one of the ‘angry women’. Women who think they can have it all – the career, the marriage, the home, the children – end up doing it all and no wonder they’re angry. She still criticises the angry woman; seemingly never realising that’s exactly who she is and that her life is unsustainable. One morning she wakes up when it’s still dark, she can hear children having breakfast in the kitchen. Why hasn’t anyone put a light on? As she makes her way into the kitchen she realises that it’s very basic and her children are eating by candlelight. Except they’re not her children. The oldest girl is looking after them, but she doesn’t know her. Then she sees Caleb, but there’s nothing behind his eyes. They seem to living a real pioneer life, with everything done by hand, no hidden gadgets or shortcuts, no staff, no filming. Is this a nightmare? Has she been imprisoned here? Has she time travelled? You will ask all these questions alongside Natalie as the author takes you back and forth from the internet friendly lifestyle she created and the real thing. The author has managed to make an unlikeable character incredibly compelling, asks questions of this strange world where everyone has a real life and an Instagram ready life, and challenges ideals that current US politicians are advocating for women. The minute you finish this book you will want to find someone else who’s finished it so you can talk.

It was lovely to spend some time this month in one of Faith Hogan’s warm and welcoming worlds, this time on an isolated Irish island called Pin Hill. In this small community, sisters Blythe and Rae grew up with their grandparents at the family hotel in Hope Square after the death of their parents. Blythe’s ambition in life was to train in hospitality at university and follow her grandad into the family’s hotel business. Rae on the other hand was more of ‘go with the flow’ girl, spending her time with friends rather than learning the family trade. Yet, when we meet the grown up sisters, life hasn’t turned out as planned. Blythe lives in her own guest house at Still Water House with handyman husband Kip and daughter Siggy. Rae’s husband Marcus has died and she’s living alone in the Hope Street Hotel, where she’s run the family business with her husband for many years. What happened to place these sisters at odds with their expectations, especially Blythe who lived and breathed the hotel. As always Faith has created some great characters here in the rather strident and opinionated Blythe and her quieter, less confident sister. Blythe’s actually a bit much in parts and I found her very hard to like. We’re taken back and forth to the women’s teenage years where the explanations lie and uncover the secrets and events that set them on the wrong paths. While in the present day, Rae is struggling to maintain the hotel alone and has discovered financial problems her husband covered up. Unfortunately they aren’t the only secrets about her marriage. She has the help and support of niece Siggy and refugee Danial who’s just moved to the island with his grandmother. Blythe is suspicious of both of them and becomes obsessed with Rae’s potential plans for the hotel, setting herself on a path to disaster. This was a lovely, warm novel with great moments of humour in between the sister’s broken relationship. This is the perfect summer holiday read.

First of all I have to mention that gorgeous Art Nouveau cover on this novel, matching perfectly with the time period which is post WW1. This is one of my favourite periods for historical novels because I’m fascinated with the pace of societal change that ranged across class, gender and sexuality. It’s also a period where mental health issues and disability became much more prominent. Many men came home from the war with amputations and facial disfigurements, changing their lives forever. Of course many men didn’t return and every family was touched by loss either on the battlefield or in the waves of Spanish Flu that broke out after Armistice Day. Into this period of seismic change, Rue Baldry has written a beautiful story of forbidden love that touches the heart. Our two narrators are Albert and Edgar, who are both at a boarding school but for different reasons, despite being close in age. Albert was demobbed and needed a job, so is working at the school as a gardener. He has been through so much, yet is only 19 years old. Edgar is 18, a schoolboy from the middle classes who has just missed active service and longs to train as a doctor despite his dad’s wishes. When they meet there’s an instant affinity between them and we’re drawn into their fledgling love. This is a book that’s so evocative of the era whether it’s the old-fashioned British private school or in hell of the trenches. I thought the exploration of a class divide between the two men was very well done too and represented the societal changes in post-WW1 England. It’s impossible not to be drawn in by this love story, especially poignant considering these men were paved the way for the more permissive society we have today. There is no better representation of love is love,

In Ireland, Maggie has grown up hearing her mother tell her the bedtime story of The Glass Key. It’s a Nordic fairytale passed down by Maggie’s grandmother Anna Swan, who mysteriously left her home one stormy night years ago, never to return. Now Maggie’s grandfather has died and going through his things, Maggie is shocked to discover a faded wartime letter, asking him to take in a baby. In that moment she realises that Anna Swan was a woman of many secrets.

I’ve still to write my review for this one, but I enjoyed it immensely particularly the WW2 timeline in the Norwegian islands that I knew nothing about. People displaced and lost during WW2 is close to my heart as my late husband was Polish and both of his parents were displaced during the war. I loved how the author showed how far the war reached and how it was only on one tiny uninhabited island that the young women could let go of it for just one afternoon. Amanda’s novels are real favourites of mine and this had everything – family secrets, hidden letters, forbidden relationships, espionage and some incredibly brave women. This should be on every historical fiction fan’s summer list.

Last, but definitely not least we come to Matson Taylor, not only a great writer but an all round good egg. His knowledge of art. architecture, and ancient Rome gives us a fabulous summer setting for this standalone novel about found family in the eternal city. A wobble on a new Vespa has Clemmie and Monty literally bumping into each other on a bridge flanked with angels as the novel opens. Monty’s injuries aren’t too severe but mean he can’t work on the renovation job he has in Rome. Now without a roof over his head and needing to recover from concussion (at least he hopes that’s why he can hear Octavian the cat talking to him) Clemmie and her friend Floss offer their palazzo. In their very unique home he finds the rest, relaxation and the care he has needed for a long time. You’ll fall in love with Monty who really is one of life’s innocents or what me and my mum call ‘new people’ who are on their first incarnation in the world. What he does have are secrets and a private grief that he’s never shared. Matson brings him together with the caring aspiring writer Clemmie and her friend, the flamboyant retired actress Floss. Add to these eccentrics a pair of food smuggling nuns, a man who lives in a converted ice cream van and a little twinkle of magic too. I never want Matson to stop writing because where else would I find scenes of nuns going to a gay disco? Set in the 1970s where the height of fashion is Floss’s new avocado en-suite, dazzling Rome is brought beautifully to life and as always there are deep emotions at its core. This is a wonderful comfort read for the summer, especially for those of us who are staycationing.

Here’s next months tbr, if I don’t get distracted of course!

Personal Purchase

Yesteryear by Caro Claire Burke

Posted on 2nd Jul 20262nd Jul 2026 by thelotusreaders

I’d seen so many extremely varied viewpoints on this book that I couldn’t resist dipping in and it was definitely worth the hype it’s received. I read it voraciously over two days, so excited and so confused towards the end I realised I’d read it too fast. I had to go back and force myself to read it slowly. Read either way, this really is a delicious story that has hit at exactly the right time in history. With the US administration rolling back women’s rights and rumours about the implementation of Project 25 it feels like we’re watching Gilead formed in real life. One of the most controversial online figures in this huge political move to the far right is that of the ‘trad wife’, a woman who lives her life focused solely on the home, children and obeying her husband who is always head of the household. This might come from a religious conviction or a political one, but social media is awash with trad wife influencers like Hannah Neelham who shows life at the family farm and cooking from scratch or Estee Williams who proudly declares a return to 1950s values where motherhood and domesticity are the priority. To me this feels like the logical extension of the late 1990s dating book ‘The Rules’, much lauded by Charlotte in Sex and the City. Single women were advised to keep their distance and mystery on the dating scene – with men naturally being pursuers they are more responsive to women who play hard to get. It also advocated withholding sexual contact and focusing on the man’s wants and needs. It stands to reason that any eventual marriage would also involve the man’s needs coming first and feminists are concerned that the current trad wife trend appears like a pop culture phenomenon, but is born of patriarchal policies that will set back women’s autonomy and authority by decades. Of course the obvious paradox here is the influencer’s monetisation of the trad wife lifestyle, promoting the concept of the man as sole breadwinner while simultaneously operating successful and lucrative online content creation businesses, often with merchandising and multiple staff. These women are highly driven and ambitious and this is where our main character Natalie is situated; right at the centre of the monetisation paradox.

The story is told through Natalie in a compelling inner monologue that had me absolutely gripped, despite disliking her quite intensely. The author takes us back to her college days, where she keeps herself separate from her roommate and other students often with a condescending and superior attitude. She firmly believes she has the answer to why feminism isn’t working, labelling her roommate the archetypal ‘angry woman’ who thinks they can have it all but will only end up exhausted and dissatisfied. She marries Caleb and is pregnant before graduation, not finishing her degree. She’s married into a political dynasty, with Cal’s father hoping to start a presidential campaign soon. Obviously they are republicans and Natalie’s father in law does point out that Caleb could be perfect for politics, being an ‘idiot’ who has no direction and is easily controlled. It’s Natalie who gets the idea to run a ranch, scouting for suitable properties and approaching her father-in-law for funding. He agrees to give them the five million they need, but Nat must keep her end of the bargain and keep producing beautiful grandbabies. She sets out to sell the great American Dream on social media, giving her ranch the tongue in cheek name ‘Yesteryear’. Despite having no farming experience, the plans for are to keep livestock, grow vegetables and become self-sufficient. She sets out to represent their lifestyle as pioneers, deliberately choosing her decor accordingly and instructing builders to hide all their modern appliances behind doors and false walls. She starts out posting nostalgic pictures, but then expands to videos where she and the children cook from scratch or make items for the house. Before long she has a business on her hands and now she isn’t just hiding the appliances, but two nannies and a producer, not to mention the merchandising. What could possibly go wrong?

This is a book with some huge reveals, you won’t always know what’s going on and you won’t be able to put it down – I was even reading while cooking the tea. I was so involved that when Natalie wakes up one morning to find her home isn’t as she knows it I was completely discombobulated – we ended up with gluey spaghetti that night! There’s no electricity and she finds children in her kitchen eating breakfast by candlelight, but they’re not her children. Caleb looks like her husband but there’s nothing behind his eyes. She’s now living pioneer life for real and when she opens the cupboards to look for her appliances, there aren’t any. There’s no help either. Her eldest daughter Mary cares for her with something close to a resigned exasperation, making sure that even if Natalie is only sitting, she can still do laundry and churn butter. Imagine a more realistic version of Little House on the Prairie where you can never escape to a power shower or flushing toilet. Natalie asks herself what’s going on: is this a punishment for something she’s done, has she lost her mind or is this some sort of sick reality TV situation? Is God punishing her. She’s now a trad wife for real, but she definitely isn’t happy, nor is she making any money.

This book is so well written, incredibly ambitious and captures the zeitgeist. I didn’t like Natalie but found her inner voice almost hypnotic. She’s deliberately hiding her intelligence and business brain on screen, but makes the comment that her eldest daughter takes after her because she holds “her intelligence like a knife behind her back.”However, once she becomes a traditional wife for real Caleb is the head of the household and she realises that whatever their home situation men can opt out of chores and childcare with no explanation, whereas she’s being forced out of bed while unwell. I was intrigued about where her belief system comes from, expecting generational religious beliefs and trauma but her mother and sister, while religious, have compassion and the ability to accept changes to their world view. They have understanding and compassion, something that Natalie seems to lack and it is utterly damning when her mother asks her why it’s so hard for her to be kind. I was so angry about the hypocrisy, pushing her ‘lifestyle’ to an online audience of women while keeping, not only her modern applicances, but the help hidden. She must know she’s making women feel inadequate, taking their money and lying to them. Once you become a tool of the patriarchy you’re an enemy of your fellow women, even though she gives them lip service by repeating the Christian Nationalist narrative that a trad wife is equal to her husband in the eyes of God – her work is different but of equal value. How can they be equal when only one of them has autonomy and the final say? In fact she openly fears aspects of the real pioneer life, especially giving birth. She is also aware of the paradox:

‘To be a wealthy Christian woman and maintain good standing, you needed to publicly disavow your luxuries in order to maintain possession of them.’

It’s only by pretending they have nothing, that she becomes rich. I think I kept reading because I was so desperate to see her carefully planned, fake world fall apart. At a time where feminists are debating whether they’d rather be alone with a man or a bear (and regularly choosing the bear) she pedals a dangerous rhetoric and any woman selling it is colluding with the patriarchy. On a day where I’ve seen yet another group of white British men on trial for raping a woman drugged by her husband, I’m not inclined to give any man that sort of power over me. This week a pregnant woman on holiday in Florida had an incomplete miscarriage and was still, days later, unable to get the procedure she needed to prevent infection. This is because she wasn’t in her home state and doctors in Florida were unsure on the legal position of performing a D and C operation thanks to ‘pro-life’ policies. Another woman who’d been informed that her baby was too malformed to survive outside the womb, was bombarded with hate on Instagram for choosing to end her pregnancy early. Female influencers can’t post on social media without facing a barrage of abuse from trolls. Thanks to all this, men like Andrew Tate and Christian Nationalist men in positions of huge power, I have a permanent level of inner rage. There should be a special level of hell for women who take up this cause and use their religious beliefs to make life harder for their fellow women. I let go a bit of that rage while reading this because it helped me remember that what we see online is like any other representation of real life – heavily edited and stretching the truth, if not an outright lie. Not only is this book addictive and inventive, but through Natalie, the author blows apart the whole hypocritical and dangerous industry as well as the Christian Nationalist ideology that espouses trad wives and I absolutely loved that.

Out Now from Fourth Estate.

Meet The Author

Caro Claire Burke received her Master’s in Fine Arts from the Bennington Writing Seminars. She is the co-host of Diabolical Lies, a politics and culture podcast. YESTERYEAR is her first novel.

Blogger Life, Uncategorized

How to Deal with Negative Thoughts

Posted on 1st Jul 2026 by thelotusreaders

Why are you writing? No one wants to read this. You have nothing interesting to say. I do, my experiences are unique. No one cares what you have to say. They do, some people have really enjoyed my writing. They’re just telling you that to spare your feelings. No, this is from strangers. They message or comment they like it. They’re probably embarrassed for you, what if someone you know reads it. They might but if they’re friends they’re not going to be horrible about it. What about those who aren’t friends? The social media trolls. They are awful but it wouldn’t be the first time and I can ignore them. Can you though? What if they say something really hurtful? Well then I’ll be hurt but surely being slightly hurt is better than not writing? Even if you’re writing the most cliched rubbish, first writing class sort of rubbish. Well I can try again. You know you hate being criticised. I’m getting better at taking it. Sometimes it’s a positive thing. It scares you though doesn’t it? Yes, but if I don’t write I’ll never know. Know what? If I can write a book, something I’ve always wanted to do and now I’m 52 and I can’t keep putting it off because I’m listening to you. I’m saying what you really think. You can talk yourself into being confident but you and I know you’re not. I am. I’m getting better. Other writers must have thoughts like these and they still write. Even Virginia Woolf had self-doubt. Listen to you. Virginia Woolf? You’re not in the same league. I know that, but what if self-doubt is normal. What if I’ve not had the nerve to write for all this time when every writer feels this way? It hasn’t stopped me writing. I keep writing. I can’t not write, even if it’s about someone else’s work or my journal. It’s just a part of me, like you are, except this is a part I want to keep. Silence. The only failure is if I stop. Quiet. The sound of a keyboard…..