Here it is, better late than never, the book trailer for The Smallest Thing.
This one was really fun, as I got to include photos of the real village where the story takes place (photography credit: moi!). I think it captures the tone of the story and sets up some of the intrigue of what’s to come.
What do you think?
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The Smallest Thing is available on:
Imagine you live in an idyllic English village. Suddenly your friends and neighbors begin falling ill and dying of a deadly infectious disease. In order to stop the spread of this virus to the surrounding villages and beyond, you and your neighbors make a monumental decision. You quarantine your village; no one comes in, no one goes out. For months you isolate yourselves, relying on the kindness of surrounding neighbors to provide food and supplies. You wait and watch, while the disease rips through families, sparing some lives and taking others. When it’s all over, 260 people—more than two thirds of the village—are dead, but the contagion has been stopped, potentially saving the lives of thousands of people—and your village will be remembered for centuries to come for its courage and self-sacrifice.
Sounds like a great premise for a novel, doesn’t it? In fact, it’s a true story. This is the story of the plague village of Eyam, a small village in the north of England, not far from where I grew up.
In the mid-1600s The Great Plague ravaged London, killing more than 100,000 people. Thanks to a stowaway flea in a bolt of cloth, the disease made its way to Eyam, some 150 miles to the north. Lead by the local vicar, Reverend Mompesson, the villagers made the horrific decision to isolate themselves and prevent the plague from spreading further.
I’ve always been fascinated by this part of history and the personal stories that have endured. There’s the story of Emmott Syddall, engaged to a boy in the next village. The two lovers continued their affair across the quarantine boundary from opposing riverbanks. Their story is commemorated in a stained glass window in the church. There’s the story of villagers leaving money in a pot of vinegar (to disinfect it) in exchange for supplies from surrounding villages. And there are the tragic stories, such as Elizabeth Hancock, who buried her husband and six children, and yet never became infected.
I first heard these stories as young girl visiting Eyam and they’ve stuck with me ever since. They’re an important part of my local history and I’ve always wanted to find a way to share them with a wider audience. I didn’t want to write historical fiction (plus Geraldine Brooks already did it, and undoubtedly better than I could have, in her 2002 novel Year of Wonders), and writing a contemporary version of the story was fraught with roadblocks, thanks to the wonders of modern medicine and technology.
But I really wanted to tell this story, so I started writing. I started with the characters of Emmott Syddall and Roland Torre, and wrote some scenes with them. And I kept writing, until a new story started to emerge.
The story evolved, as stories do, in ways I could never have imagined, until it became my novel THE SMALLEST THING.
You’ll have to read the book for a more intimate tour of Em’s village, but for now, I’ll leave you with a few more snaps of Eyam, taken from one of my research trips.
You can still see the Plague Cottages, where George Viccars, the first victim lived. The cottages are still inhabited. You can also see the church and churchyard where some of the victims were buried.
One of my favorite spots is Cucklett Delf, where Emmott and Roland allegedly met, where outdoor services were held during the quarantine, and where a memorial service is held each year to commemorate the incredible sacrifice.
You can learn more about Eyam at their excellent museum.
Is there anything more satisfying than reaching the end of a really great book? Okay, maybe a couple of things. Avocado toast, for example. But there’s a special glow that stays with you when a book hits all the marks.
I love books about complex human relationships and psychology. I enjoy reading authors who take risks with their writing and aren’t afraid to take their stories to the dark corners of the human psyche. I love books that make me think or that make me want to read them again to pick up what I missed on the first reading.
So, with that in mind, here are eight books I loved in 2017.
Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste NgCeleste Ng’s debut novel, Everything I Never Told You, made my list of Fave Reads of 2016, so I was eager to read her latest offering. It didn’t disappoint.
Through the stories of a single mother who moves with her daughter into an upscale neighborhood of traditional families, a young woman fighting to regain custody of the child she gave up for adoption, and the mother of four determined to uphold traditional values, Ng explores the question of what it means to be a “good” mother.
Ng is a master of weaving together multiple points-of-view and crisscrossing storylines to force her characters—and her readers—to question their own beliefs.
Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine by Gail HoneymanFrom page one I loved this story of a socially awkward woman forced to find her way in the modern world. But underneath the humor and quirkiness of Eleanor, Honeyman digs without mercy into the topics of mental health, how we judge others from the outside, and the scars left by our pasts. This was an entertaining and well-told story that also got me thinking.
The Husband’s Secret by Liane MoriartyI read two of Lianne Moriarty’s novels last year and enjoyed them both. The Husband’s Secret, like What Alive Forget, weaves together the points-of-view of a cast of characters, intertwining their stories. There’s a moment in the book when the reader suddenly knows more than the characters and it makes for fascinating reading to watch them bumble into trouble still clutching their beliefs. Moriarty’s writing is infused with humor and a brilliant eye for the day-to-day details of life.
The Muse by Jessie BurtonThe Muse hops back and forth between the stories of a recent immigrant to 1960s London and a renegade and much sought-after artist in the Spanish Civil War. With vivid and unique characters and beautifully detailed settings, Burton tells an intriguing tale of identity, secrets, and creative inspiration. This one was a definite “Read Again” book.
A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor TowlesThis book came highly recommended by a trusted friend, but as I got deeper into the story, I wondered if she’d lost her mind. It reads like series of vignettes of “a day in the life” of a count on house arrest in a swanky hotel in Soviet-era Russia. The details are gorgeous and the writing exquisite, but for much of the book it seems like not very much is happening. That is, until all the tiny moving parts come together and every little detail fits into its place. It’s the kind of book I immediately want to read again to pick up all the delicious clues. If you’ve tried to read this book and given up, I urge you to try again. It’s worth it.
Patient Zero by Jonathan MaberryThis is my “left field” book of 2017. Zombie apocalypse stories aren’t usually my thing, but I picked it up while sniffing out other virus stories in preparation for publishing The Smallest Thing. Trust me when I tell you that a deadly virus is the only thing the two books have in common!
Patient Zero is a tasty nugget of horror-thriller candy. It has an evil villain with an underground lair, a rugged hero with a killer sense of humor, a little romance, a lot of blood, and bodies piled waist-deep by the end of the book. It’s definitely not for the faint of heart, but if the mood hits you, as it did me, it’s a rollicking good fun read.
Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil GaimanI admit it. I have a huge crush on Neil Gaiman. He’s like that really cool rebel English teacher that all the students love, but who eventually gets fired for some sort of inappropriate behavior. Anyway…
I got the audio version of this book, narrated by Neil himself. For the first few chapters, I was convinced it was a memoir, Neil recounting a story of his childhood. Then things turned odd and Neil Gaiman-ish and I realized that all was right in the world after all. It’s dark, weird, and twisted, as well as heartbreaking and utterly believable. As with The Graveyard Book, I cried at the end of this story.
And finally…
All the Ugly and Wonderful Things by Bryn GreenwoodThis was my absolute favorite book of 2017. At its heart, it’s an unconventional love story between Wavy, the young daughter of a drug dealer, and Kellen, the older man who works for Wavy’s father. But this isn’t your typical romance. It’s a story of resilience, self-reliance, and a determination to overcome judgment and prejudice in the name of real love.
It’s not an always an easy read. Greenwood paints a gritty picture of drugs, sex, and violence. There were a couple of times I had to put the book down because I was afraid to find out what would happen next. But the characters are so compelling, it was never long before I started reading again. This book is daring writing at its best. I can’t wait to see what Bryn Greenwood gives us next.
Oh, yes, yes, I know video teasers are supposed to come out before the book, but being conventional is so dull.
So, here it is, the brand new teaser for A Strange Companion. Let me know what you think!
A Strange Companion is available on:
Mr. Fab and I just moved house. We had lived in our old house for thirteen years and it’s fair to say we had accumulated a lot of stuff. So, for the month before we moved, we set about the task of purging. Which meant I had to face…da–da–da–daaaah…the office.
Oh, good grief. You wouldn’t believe the amount of clutter I’d gathered there. I had receipts dating back to 2010, cross-stitch projects I started for my young nieces, who are now in their 20s, and a giant stuffed Nemo that my nephew’s girlfriend won at the county fair and then couldn’t fit in her suitcase. I had stationery, bags, gift wrap, colored paper, even the user’s manual for a car I don’t own anymore. I had no idea just how much junk I had been hoarding.
Once I’d pulled all of it out and tossed several bags of trash and recycling, I finally made it down to my box of abandoned manuscripts. Ugh, what a trip down memory lane that was.
I found a very early version of A Strange Companion, then titled Bond of Souls, in which Kat is a decade older and working as an auto mechanic in San Francisco. I know there are gems in there (Mary-Jo Lipinsky Meyers, one of my favorite characters) but the story takes a serious turn south around the middle and should never be read.
I found My Mother’s Eyes, a story about a girl who discovers the woman who raised her was her grandmother and sets out to find her birth mother. Meh. I found a screenplay attempt that was so terrible the only bit worth salvaging was the character of Mr. Scroggins, the cat who charmed his way into Kat’s mother’s heart in A Strange Companion. I also found Thicker Than Water, a story based on a vivid dream I had of two sisters tied by a hidden secret. Great concept, but also flawed. This, at least, had sufficient potential to be dusted off and re-examined. In fact, it’s the story I’m rewriting for this year’s National Novel Writing Month. (You can follow along with my progress through my daily Instagram posts.)
Most published authors, when pressed, will admit to several abandoned novels squirreled away in drawers and under beds or in the back of stuffed closets. For most writers, it takes time for ability to catch up with the vision, and the truth is, some novels just aren’t ready to debut.
I discarded much of the paper I found in my office, packing and moving only selected versions of completed books, and a copy of each of the unfinished ones. Even though there are hours and hours invested in those novels, they belong in the back of my new closet, where perhaps my literary heirs will discover and publish them against my will, and I will quietly turn in my grave.
