Tag: books

Interview with Deborah French

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Deborah French is the author of A Brief Moment in Time, a memoir chronicling her experience of raising two children with special needs. A review of the book can be found here, and the link to it on Amazon can be found at the end of this interview.

How did the start of the book come about? Did you decide it was time to tell your story, or did someone else prompt you?

I introduced myself to ASD Publishing in a submissions email for my children’s book.  I received an almost immediate response asking me to consider writing down my personal journey and sending a manuscript back to them for consideration.  I remember reading the email with a quizzical brow thinking ‘Seriously, could I do this?’  I have always loved writing and had dreams of becoming an author as a teenager, so I asked my husband for the laptop, sat down and wrote Chapter 1, The Moment.  And that was it.

The book is such a beautiful insight into your life and covers truly sensitive issues that I found I needed to read it slowly; digesting the information and reality of the situation as I went. Did you find it very difficult to write, retracing each moment and did you have to take it slowly?

The first three chapters were written within a few hours. I was surprised at the speed at which I was able to retrace my steps because up until that point, of course I had recalled the emotional trauma of birth but had yet to take that journey so intimately again. I was also aware that as I was reliving those first few days, I was about to share my story and my most shameful feelings with the world, that fact was overwhelming and frightening. Once I had I passed the first hurdle however and I was able to re read the first chapters without sobbing, everything flowed very smoothly from then on. Those moments of my life had been bottled up for a long time; once I began to write I couldn’t stop.

You’ve constructed a very natural narrative, following your life chronologically. Did you sit down and simply let the story flow, or did you plan out how you would write it?

Once I had made the decision to write my story I felt the only appropriate place to start was from the day I walked into the hospital to give birth to Amariah. From then on I didn’t plan to tell my story chronologically, it just worked out that way because I was able to explain my emotional development more accurately through each experience.

Your writing is very honest and really helps the reader to connect with your experiences, but was there anything that you wanted to include and couldn’t because of time or space constraints?

I could have certainly continued on but as you have described it takes some time to digest the information and the reality of the situation. It was important to find the right balance. I didn’t want to overwhelm the reader, I wanted to make sure that by the end of the book they could connect with the sense of happiness and contentment that we feel despite our circumstance. This was an important point for me to drive home.
I was surprised by the move to Israel and very interested to learn about the help that is available there.

What prompted this move? Primarly we moved because we were advised to live in a hotter climate for sake of Amariah’s health. During those early years she was plagued with chest, throat and sinus infections and the warmer climate has certainly helped with that. Secondly and most importantly, the facilities available to those with special needs is incredible. Amariah is only seen by a paediatrician during routine doctor visits through the regular health service. There are countless nurseries and schools for children with a range of special needs, both separate and integrated into the mainstream system. Therapies and after school programmes are readily available with free transportation from the council to and from our door step. There is also considerable emphasis on supported living and employment opportunities for adults with special needs, which is a consideration for all parents. The question of ‘what’s next?’ still keeps me up at night but I take comfort knowing that we are living in a society that thrives on how it cares for those less fortunate.

Throughout the book your focus is always on the children and their progression, but marriages have fallen through with much less pressure. How did you maintain your relationship and social life through it all?

My husband has an uncanny way of making me laugh, especially when I’m crying. He has often said that ‘If we don’t laugh about it then we will go nuts.’ And I agree with him. The challenges that we have faced have also never created an issue between us, our task has been to work on how we handle our own emotional pain and support each other in the way we both need.
As far as our social life goes, we enjoy as much private time as we do socialising with friends and family. We regard our social time as ‘taking a break’. Sometimes it’s hard to switch off from reality but there will always be something to worry about and time out is good for everyone.

Has the book and subsequent publicity had any effect on the school life of Henry and Amariah, such as raised awareness from friends or negative effects?

From the feedback that I have received so far, including your own review, I can see the effect my story will have on raising awareness. I have always said that ignorance breads fear which in turn breads intolerance and predjuidice. The more informed people are about children and adults with special needs the less they will fear them and the more society will accept those with disabilities. I hope that in some way my story will inspire more integration at a grass roots level between families, friends, teachers and their pupils. As far as Henry and Amariah are concerned, A Brief Moment in Time is merely an extension of these efforts, we work tirelessly everyday to inform those around them to ease their integration. It’s a working progress.

You keep busy with raising awareness for special needs and having activities for special needs children. Do you have any hobbies outside of that part of your life?

I love to cook.  I have enjoyed hosting and entertaining our family and friends as well as running cookery demonstrations for adults and lessons for children.  I believe that cooking is a life skill that all children should be taught from a young age.  I have also run courses for children with special needs and have seen the improvements in their concentration and coordination whilst working towards the finished dish.
Apart from this I love to spend time with my husband and children relaxing and having fun experiences.  We try to take time off from our hectic lives even for a short time just to get away and spend the day together. This is a very important part of my life.

How has the reaction to your book been so far, and has it differed from your expectations?

I anticipated that it would have an impact of some sort because birth is an experience anticipated by all and experienced by most and there is always a sense of fear that everything may not go according to plan.  Even if the reader doesn’t have a child with a disability they will be automatically transported back to their own experience during the read and will connect with my experience.
In saying that, I could not have hoped for the response that I have received.  I haven’t made so many people cry in such a short time in my life!  It has been so wonderful to hear that our story has touched the hearts of so many people and, what’s more, I have been so delighted to hear that other mothers in similar situations have headed to my advice and reaped results with their children.  I could not have hoped for more.

Do you have any plans for a follow-up to A Brief Moment in Time, telling readers what the experience is like as the children have got older, or how things are changing in a broader perspective for the special needs community?

I wouldn’t rule that out.  I am currently developing other projects to help raise awareness through my writing for children with special needs and I have also completed a picture book to help prepare children on the autistic spectrum for their first day of school.  So there are lots of directions to follow.  I like to take one step at a time.

 

A Brief Moment In Time by Deborah French: Book Review

Reviewing a memoir is quite different from reviewing fiction. Instead of looking for narrative structure and memorable characters you are looking for genuine sentiment and an insight into the world of the writer. Suffice to say I was only a few pages into A Brief Moment In Time before I broke into tears and had to put it down. ‘This will have to be read in stages,’ I told myself, and I was right. Deborah French’s story is 100% honest from the word go, but it is not an easy journey. I can only imagine how difficult it must have been to write because it’s quite an experience to read.
The book opens with the birth of Deborah’s second child, Amariah and you are instantly transported into the mind of Deborah as she experiences the diagnosis of Down’s Syndrome. From that life-changing moment we are taken through her life chronologically as she learns to deal with the diagnosis and other people’s reactions. True to life’s unfair nature, just as Deborah and her husband Johnny are adjusting to life, they learn that Henry, their first son, has Autistic Spectrum Disorder. The book follows the couple as they struggle through the schooling system, the lack of information available and a move to Israel.
Although attitudes to special needs children are significantly more understanding than they used to be, A Brief Moment In Time highlights the fact that there is still a stigma, a lack of understanding and ultimately a certain amount of ignorance concerning these issues. It is Deborah’s honesty that truly allows the reader to understand life from both the children’s point of view and the parents’. Her humility allows the reader to empathise with her situation, understanding her actions and reactions.
Although my reading experience of this book started with tears of sadness, as it continued the tears quickly turned into ones of happiness. No one can know how they would react to a similar situation in their own life, but I only hope that I would be as strong, methodical and tenacious as Deborah. Instead of spending her time fretting over other people’s reactions to her children, she researched their conditions, the help available and learned how she could assist them to live happily in this world. She writes about how casting aside denial was one of the key parts of making progress, allowing her to see the world from Henry’s point of view and ultimately reach out to him in a way that no-one else could.
The book itself is well written, thoughtfully structured and a wonderful example of what life is really like with twins and two special needs children. It would be an extremely helpful guide to anyone facing a similar future, but overall it is an insightful look into the reality of special needs children and will hopefully help to educate people in the future. Deborah, Amariah and Henry teach us that the label ‘special needs’ is there to ensure these children receive the care essential to their progression and happiness, not to separate them from what is considered ‘normal’.

Modern Book Review: The Year of Open Doors (2011)

The Year of Open Doors (2011) is an anthology of modern Scottish writing, with the input of writers from various social and cultural backgrounds, all of who make up the nation that Scotland is becoming. Each story offers a personal glimpse into the life of a modern Scottish person, although since there are so many stories, I will highlight some in particular which stand out in a unique way.

The anthology begins with a story with an open door “theme” built in – “One Year The Door Will Open” by Ryan Van Winkle – in which the narrator compares himself to a door, with which he has certain things in common. The door, he says, is painted and repainted constantly throughout its “life”, in ways that often reflect the mood of the people dwelling within, such as “argument red, family yellow, divorce brown”.

In “Omu Prin & Me” by Daibhidh Martin, a young man visiting a remote area of Scotland encounters an older man with a tragedy in his past, his wife having been swept away by a rip-tide, but who still manages to find joy in life (“I was enchanted, watching a sixty-year-old man dance so carefree. The older man has tried to come to terms with it by building a gate from pieces of debris he has found washed up on the shore – a poignant symbol of trying to bring back the spirit of his wife, and also a reflection of how things from far away places can eventually find their way to one’s home.

“Playground Rules” by Doug Johnstone (who has already become a prolific writer in Scotland) is another story tainted by tragedy; a young father takes his son to his first day at school, while coming to terms with causing the death of his wife in a car accident shortly after the son was born. Until this point he and his son had been coping, as he says that “We were in our own unburstable bubble back then”, before this day. Before long, the harsh re-integration into “society” proves too much for the father, as he realises that he can no longer shield his son from “real life”.

A clash of cultures is portrayed to provocative effect in “Colin’s Nation” by Anneliese Mackintosh, in which a white Scottish mother routinely takes her daughter to be looked after by Indian immigrants after school, with the father of the family repaying the girl’s parents with samples of their national cuisine. This time, the mother invites the Indian family over in a gesture of hospitality, only to make the faux-pas of preparing an elaborate feast for them during Ramadan. Some underlying tensions, however, emerge during the interaction between the young girl and the family’s young boy, who end up – during their innocent play – bringing up their ancestors’ shared history. Most tellingly, the topic of “Colin’s Nation” (meaning “colonisation”) serves to draw a sharp divide between children, who might have gotten along perfectly fine otherwise.

The last story in the anthology, “A Snake Drinks Water And Makes Poison, A Cow Drinks Water And Makes Milk”, by Kevin MacNeil, is a heavily impacting account of a Scot on holiday in Indonesia; incidentally, in the area which would be worst affected by the 2004 tsunami which swept right across the areas in the Indian Ocean.

This story reveals how people from any social or cultural background can find themselves in a life-or-death situation in a strange country, and the use of powerful language -“Write injuries in sand… kindnesses in marble” – shows that superficial differences between nationalities are just that, and similarities are far more common.

There are many more stories in this anthology; some from unknown writers, others from more established authors, but all of them show promise, in that if this anthology, collectively, reflects an ever-evolving nation, then it is quite certain that there will be more thought-provoking new writing to come.

Book Review: Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn

Starting on the morning of their fifth wedding anniversary, Gone Girl tells the story of Nick Dunne and his wife Amy, who has mysteriously disappeared.  It looks suspicious and all the clues point to Nick, but it is not as straightforward as it seems.

I have a real concern that bookshops might unceremoniously shove Gone Girl into the genre of Chick Lit and that would be a real shame.  Chick Lit has a reputation for taking on the fluffy novels of the literary world; romcoms, light comedies, even sometimes just having a female author can relegate a book to this candyfloss world.  Not that there’s nothing wrong with chick lit – after all, who doesn’t like to sometimes be whisked away to a world where the girl marries the man of her dreams and there is always a happy ending?  Gone Girl, however, leaves the fluffy stuff well behind and delves into what happens when the ending is not quite as happy as you thought it would be.

Whilst Gone Girl tells the story of a relationship, it is certainly not a light romcom.  Through Nick’s first-hand accounts and from Amy’s diary entries we learn how they first met and how their seemingly idyllic life started to implode. You are never quite sure who you can trust while reading this book and the twists and turns leave you constantly trying to guess if Nick really is as innocent as he proclaims.  This is Gillian Flynn’s third novel and, having read this, I am definitely going to be seeking out her first two books, Sharp Objects and Dark Places, which both promise to be as dark and thought provoking as Gone Girl.

At its heart, this is a tale of relationships and how even with the best intentions they can implode.  Yes, the characters and the situation are extreme, but I think most people who have been in a failed relationship could find themselves asking the same questions that Nick asks: Who are you?  What have we done to each other?

Crime novel, thriller, chick lit, it is hard to categorise this book, but Flynn’s excellent writing and sharp observations take you down into the murky world of her characters and leave you wondering how well do we ever know the person we lie next to?

Vintage Book Review: “The Haunting of Hill House” by Shirley Jackson (1959)

Hallowe’en may be months away (unless you’re still revelling from the previous one) and the days are getting longer, well, by the day, but that shouldn’t get in the way of appreciating a classic supernatural horror story which has been acclaimed by Stephen King as the blueprint for the modern “spooky story”.

The tale begins with the rational-minded Dr Montague, who is sufficiently taken with the legend surrounding Hill House, to invite a few other people to stay with him in the house to “test his theory” that the unexplained goings-on can all be explained with science and reason.

There is Eleanor, a quiet, shy, reserved woman who becomes increasingly reluctant to participate in the stay before she even gets there; encounters with hostile local people on the journey makes her certain that there is a sinister secret surrounding the place. Soon she meets Theodora, her “cousin”, who is more outgoing but the two women stick closely together upon their meeting. Then there is Luke Sanderson, the heir to the property, but somehow among the least receptive – or cut off even – when it comes to the story behind Hill House.

Initially, everyone there is sufficiently spooked by the house itself – being a most imposing and unwelcoming place to spend any time in – only to have Dr Montague add to this by telling them the rather grisly story of the unfortunate family who first lived there. Madness, bad fortunes and suicide are recurring in the family history, and understandably no-one can bear to stay in the place for very long, but the new residents (perhaps excepting Eleanor, who anticipates the worst already) decide to give the house a chance.

However the opinion that the house is, essentially, a malignant and living thing, with a will of its own to drive out anyone who dares to live there, begins to ring all the more true. It is not long before frightening events begin to unfold – loud banging in the night, writing on the wall and destruction of property – which seem to happen to, or close to, Eleanor more than anyone else. Eventually this will result in a tragic ending, as Eleanor is killed while attempting to leave the house.

What makes this story so unsettling is that events are described in the narrative clearly enough to induce fear and unease in the reader, but also vaguely enough that a rational explanation can’t be ruled out entirely.

A subtle build-up of apprehension, combined with a disturbing back-story to overshadow the present narrative, serve to make this a story which has clearly influenced later supernatural writers, and continues to spook readers today.

Vintage Book Review: “Fahreheit 451” by Ray Bradbury (1953)

Fahrenheit 451 has become something of a classic, not only for “hard-core” fans of Ray Bradbury, but among many others who see the world going down the path of doing away with the written word, lest it offend anyone. Sixty years on, what Bradbury saw the future as being – in spirit if not in the literal sense – does not seem too far-fetched in the age of Dumbing Down.

The action begins with Guy Montag, a “fireman” on the job, which is basically to hunt down, and burn, any books that may still be in existence. The very first line is “It was a pleasure to burn”, and Bradbury evokes a strong image, saying that he “strode in a swarm of fireflies”, and when he meets an unusual, and highly inquisitive, teenage girl on the walk home (walking home, in itself, is considered a suspicious activity), Montag furthers the anti-hero image by saying ““Kerosene is nothing but perfume to me.”

But it is not long before, through the girl’s persistence, he is given pause for thought and begins to wonder just why his job is of such vital importance. The first major indication of something gone amiss is when he has to take his wife home from the hospital, after she apparently attempted suicide, but is given drugs so that she has no memory of doing so. Realising that he and his wife may be less than content in their (allegedly) idyllic book-free existence, he begins to question everything more outwardly. But it seems that Montag is the odd man out in this case, from the robot Hound that blindly follows orders (“It doesn’t think anything we don’t want it to think”) to his colleagues, who are adamant that they are performing a public service (“Don’t give them any slippery stuff like philosophy or sociology to tie things up with. That way lies melancholy.”).

When his wife, and the mysterious young girl (also allegedly) disappear without a trace, and after a traumatic job assignment in which a woman is burned along with the books she tries desperately to hold onto, Montag decides enough is enough, and goes on the run in a quest for any literary knowledge, any “texture of information”, that may remain.

Bradbury, wryly and shrewdly, depicts a not-too-unrealistic world, in which books are seen as the enemy, rather than the ally, of the moral progress of human civilisation. Written not too long since a time when much book-burning was in fact taking place, Bradbury effectively draws attention to the notion that a totalitarian approach to the censorship of knowledge may lie in wait in the not-too-distant future.