A New Year Newsletter

Here is what I am up to next year. Or rather, here is what I can tell you so far. Now look, readers and writers: things have got most tricky at Bookworm Towers. It happens. But, you see, never feel that if life is difficult, if you experience illness or are bereft, your creativity will wither alongside. Take heart; nurture it and believe in it. Make things. That is what I am continuing to do. In the midst of sadness I am writing another book.

What’s coming? In April, you can read my new novel, Saving Lucia. Here she is above. The book that started with a chance sighting of that photo above – the one where the elderly lady is feeding the birds, so very tenderly. She was the Honourable Violet Gibson and, in April 1926, she went to Rome and tried to kill Mussolini, She shot him in the nose. She got closer than anyone else. Lady Gibson was knocked to the ground, put in prison and, eventually, deported; thereafter, she was certified insane and spent the rest of her life in St Andrew’s Hospital, Northampton. Later, a fellow patient was Lucia Joyce, daughter of James Joyce. What if…and do you see the other women above? That’s Blanche, Queen of the Hysterics at the Salpetriere and that’s Monsieur Charcot demonstrating what happens under hypnosis. She is most remarkably responsive. To her right is Bertha Pappenheim, a prominent Jewish social worker, whose institute was razed by the Nazis. It was not until twenty years after her death that she was also revealed to be ‘Anna O’, in Freud and Breuer’s On Hysteria. These women have an extraordinary story to tell you, so stick around. The book is published on April the 24th, but Bluemoose Books is starting a subscription service, where it will be available to subscribers from (I gather) late February. Follow all news here: https://bluemoosebooks.com/ Saving Lucia is part of Bluemoose’s all women catalogue for 2020.

Below is a gallery of images pertinent to what I have been writing about; from a bookshop of towering shelves, an old asylum window, Victorian portraits (the first one has a memento mori which has been added subsequently, but I liked it!), a devil, a baptism in 17th century Virginia, shades of grief, my late grandmother’s house on the Cleddau in Pembrokeshire (the setting for two books now), the holy well of St Non’s near St David’s and Walton West church on St Brides’ Bay in Pembrokeshire, fictionalised in the book I have just sent to my agent…(see below)…

In June, I have an essay in Dodo Ink’s Trauma: Art as a Response to Mental Health; it’s called ‘In Order to Live’ and is about reading and the imagination in my life, kid up, in the face of trauma. Reading as survival, in fact. http://www.dodoink.com/blog and – details when they are up – I also have some weird fiction in a new anthology by Unsung Stories; it’s a really interesting concept and one very important to me: weird fiction exploring mental health themes but also hopeful uplift on these themes. You will see!

In September, my first short story collection is out. Here.

famished cover-c (1)

This is already available for pre-order as part of Influx Press’s subscription service. https://www.influxpress.com/famished Hit the subscription button.

‘In this dark and toothsome collection, Anna Vaught enters a strange world of apocryphal feasts and disturbing banquets. Famished explores the perils of selfish sensuality and trifle while child rearing, phantom sweetshop owners, the revolting use of sherbet in occult rituals, homicide by seaside rock, and the perversion of Thai Tapas. Once, that is, you’ve been bled dry from fluted cups by pretty incorporeals and learned about consuming pride in the hungriest of stately homes. Famished: eighteen stories to whet your appetite and ruin your dinner.’ Oooh and ugh.

Ah but that is not all my bravehearts. I have also, thus is the way these things work, submitted a second novel – witchery in mid 17th-century Somerset and Virginia called The Revelations of Celia Masters – and a second short story collection called Ravished. And if there is news, you will be the first to hear it.

AND

I have written my first magical realism and handed my work in to the literary agency who this year signed me: Mackenzie Wolf, NYC and one of the best girls in the world, my agent Kate Johnson. I think I am allowed to say that this is called The Zebra and Lord Jones. I have been asked by a few people why I am with an American agency. This is partly because we are an Anglo-American crew at Bookworm Towers and I try to split my time as much as I can, partly because they also have a presence here and partly because of my literary interests and ambitions and where. And because of Kate. The best girl. I am desperate to tell you more about this book, set in Wales, London and Ethiopia during WWII – but I cannot. x

When we have had a meeting about it, I will tell you more about a thing which I am over the moon to be able to do: for September 2020 I am offering at least partial fee remission for an MFA (in creative writing) for a student from a disadvantaged background. I have asked if there can be a focus on someone whose life has been circumscribed by mental illness. This is because mine has been – and that’s really why I wrote a novel, Saving Lucia (back to top) about this theme, too. And I am building a writing retreat and teaching room in my garden. I do mean I am building it. With a bit of help, When I am up and running, I will tell you all.

Oh, there will be a lot to share. We will bring you events and news on Saving Lucia – here she is again and note the four windows and the bird on this beautiful cover, below – and I shall share them here and on social media and tell you about everything else that is happening. Saving Lucia is my third book, with the first two Killing Hapless Ally and The Life of Almost no longer with their original publisher and on the move. We will bring you news on this all in good time; you can find copies floating about though!

I have chosen my FREE READ for 2020. I usually do four a year, but 2020 sees all this work on top of my day job (I am an English teacher, tutor and mentor for young people) and extra care for my two eldest boys who are in exam years and have additional needs. This is going to be a rollercoaster year, isn’t it?

I hope we get to meet and I wish you a Happy 2020 and much wonderful reading, perhaps writing. Oh – and I mentioned that I was writing a new book. Here is how it started. The image is of me with the two Shirley Jackson books which are the biggest influence on what I am writing at the moment. It’s called We All Live in a House on Fire -and have a Welsh cake for knowing that the title comes from Tennessee Williams’s The Milk Train Doesn’t Stop Here Anymore. And I can’t tell you anything about what I am writing either. Except that I am a third of the way through and very excited. It’s strange how ideas bubble up. I was upset one night and couldn’t sleep. I started re-reading We Have Always Lived in the Castle and there we were. By 4.a.m. I had started writing chapter 2. I anticipate that I will have finished this new novel by the end of March. I write quickly; it’s just how I roll. I have written all my books in 3-4 months, but I wrote my two short story collections in three crazy weeks a pop. Everyone is different and, anyway, I’d say it’s not the writing that takes the time, it’s the editing. Imagine that, when your book goes to your editor – aside of what you have done yourself – it’s about half-way there. But you may feel differently!

But for now, it’s all about Saving Lucia. I hope you like it xxx

News. My first short story collection announced.

MY FIRST SHORT STORY COLLECTION! Here she is, then.

You can see what’s coming and what I am allowed to tell you (ooooh) on the About Anna page of this website, but this week’s wonderful news is the announcement by Influx Press of their 2020 catalogue. So I can now tell you that my first short story collection will be published by this exciting and pioneering press in September, 2020 and, if you follow the link below (there’s also a Bookseller feature on it), you can read about their new subscription service, which kicks off this November. Have a look at the current catalogue, too – I am just finishing Shiromi Pinto’s Plastic Emotions and thoroughly recommend it; I will write more on this book soon. https://www.influxpress.com/books

Famished
Anna Vaught

famished cover-c.jpg

In this dark and toothsome collection, Anna Vaught enters a strange world of apocryphal feasts and disturbing banquets. Famished explores the perils of selfish sensuality and trifle while child rearing, phantom sweetshop owners, the revolting use of sherbet in occult rituals, homicide by seaside rock, and the perversion of Thai Tapas. Once, that is, you’ve been bled dry from fluted cups by pretty incorporeals and learned about consuming pride in the hungriest of stately homes. Famished: eighteen stories to whet your appetite and ruin your dinner.


!//w

https://www.influxpress.com/subscriptions

www.thebookseller.com/news/influx-unveils-2020-list-and-launch-subscription-service-monday-1076466

https://www.influxpress.com/2020

https://www.influxpress.com/famished

 

News on writing: next novel, short stories and getting a literary agent

In haste this one – and apologies that I haven’t written for a while. Just to say that I have placed my first book of short stories Famished (publisher TBA all in good time; I’m not allowed to tell you yet) to be published September, 2020 and so, with my historical fiction Saving Lucia out with Bluemoose next spring…herewith some stars of the show: the Honourable Violet Gibson who, in 1926, went to Rome and tried to assassinate Mussolini – and Lucia Joyce, dancer and artist, daughter of novelist James Joyce. She, like Violet, was admitted for life to St Andrew’s Infirmary (formerly the Northampton General Lunatic Asylum).

….that’s two books for you next year. I also have a piece on rebuilding your mind with books for Trauma: Art as a response to mental health for Dodo Ink in January – and we’ll see if there are further commissions. In other news. Tempest…

tempest-front-cover-192x300

…the anthology of writings about dystopias for Patrician Press for which I wrote the introductory essay came out on March 1st and, this summer, one of my stories is published in Newcon press’s Best of British Horror, 2019. Now, if you are looking for my first two books, 2016’s Killing Hapless Ally and this year’s The Life of Almost, you may, at time of updating this (4th April) be able to buy copies online, but these books are, as of this week, currently between publishers and I will post updates as soon as I can.

What else? Well my second historical fiction, The Revelations of Celia Masters (set in mid 17th-century Somerset and Virginia) is waiting for its read (will update) and I have more short stories and another novel, The Fabulist (working title only…) on the go.

Love,

Anna

Hello: this is me, by the way! My seven year old took it and I have snow in my hair.snowyanna

And also…I have a literary agent! I have just signed with Kate Johnson of Mackenzie Wolf Literary Agency, NY…http://www.mwlit.com/…

MacKenzie Wolf

…and we will see where this takes us. Kate has been very involved already – actually I have been talking to her for a year and it is partly Kate whom I have to thank for Famished, partly because she encouraged me to write gothic fiction. We are both delighted with the press it has gone to: it’s a fantastic home! I am currently writing a second volume of short stories which will go directly to Kate and that is called Ravished. While Famished is a series of gothic, horror and weird fiction tales linked by the theme of food and feasts, Ravished is all about age, faith, death and judgement. It’s bloody terrifying me, in fact. I call it my eschatological volume. I’ve been researching Victorian memento mori, photos of the dead, embalming…flipping to googledocs now, it looks like Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children in its use of photos…ooohhh.

Much love and happy writing – or writing amidst a whole lot of other things going wrong and Brexit stress. Don’t wait for the perfect moment, the clear day or a room of one’s own, huh?

Anna xxx

Archive work and exciting discoveries

So in this relatively strenuous rewrite of Book Four, The Revelations of Celia Masters, I am unearthing various old texts and manuscripts. My mother in law in Virginia is also looking things out for me – in manuscript rooms and archives. And I have been able to add extraordinary things to the book. I’ll get through it and then assess. The year is 1643 and on board the ship is Celia Masters; they have boarded at Deptford and sail to Virginia. Here is something I have found, with a little tweaking, to include along with other rare historical texts. It is a remembrance of the lady by Mercy, a young girl at the time, and a girl who has been snared from the streets of London; ‘trappan’d’, as they said. Her account of meeting Celia: the spelling is only slightly modernised.

 

Remembrances. In the year 1660 of when we were childrene. And first we met our precious blessed lady on the ship Lydia Constant travelling from Deptford to Virginny.

It is only the three of us who write for her for now our prettie Grace is gone and I saye gone in the ways that ordinary men are given to understande. I, Mercy, can write best because I started earlier with the bookes and wordes when a rich lady whose draines and turds I would cleane, she took pitee on me and taughte me some books. But it was our Celia, our lady she, who taughte us all as best she coulde and with what time to write and so to reade.. None of us knewe our mothers. But then we knewe her.

That first night on the Lydia Constant, that was when I said, as I remember, that we were taken, we were trappanned and  even some of the little girls and the older ones, taken to be servants in your Virginny. And we’ll never see home again. And then I said I had dreames that my owne mother was taken, but I don’t remember her and I knowe not who she was or where, then Celia whispered, ‘Oh sweete childe, this is how it is for me’ and I then began to cry with her eyes wet too. She stroked my face as I told her of the others I knew, and that there must be more of us on other boats and so I went to holde her, but the captaine up and yelled for me to be gone. Her eyes flashed with somethinge differente then; they promised a darke thing, so I was scared and thrilled too. ‘He will paye’ said she. So the next night and the next she crept to us and spoke more; we told her of the many we knewe who had been captured, boys and girls, young women. We gave names, because we had been made namelesse. ‘Oh lady we were snared miss.’ And I heard tell an old song ‘The Trappan’d Maiden’ so told her and this she learned, so for posteritee said she. I did not know what that told or what posteritee meant, but I knew she was truth, so it must be good. ‘Give ear unto a Maid, that lately was betray’d and sent unto Virginny, O’ and I sang on until she hushed me for fear of Masters or a well to do gentleman seeing this little raggedy girl trilling without right.

And I sayde all our names and she remembered and after only one callinge. I sayde about the thinges we girls heard of travelllers and of this Virginny and that there was another song about an honest weaver who sold his wife to Virginny. And that there was a lady in Bishopsgate where I lodged and roamed and she was kind and full of promises; her name was Elizabeth Hamlin Miss and she tricked me and I hope they will send her to the Newgate prison. My life was hard, but I miss the church I would creep into – St Helen’s – it was a very old and pretty church and oh it had such a pretty stained glass window depicting Mr William Shakespeare – and he was a very famous man who lived in the area many years before I was born. But I know he was a man of words and looked kind.’ She cried. ‘And I sayde my prayers in the church but no-one protected me.’ Then she told me of the church in the county of Somerset and of the little creatures made of marble which seemed to creepe from the tombes. For a moment we were silent because of her flinte eyes then and I saw the look in all our trappanned that wondered if she was a trap, a gin – a bad thing or terrible crone made beautiful to spirit us, but then I saw our fear pass, though I am not saying and could not say now – forgive me – in these remembrances that she was only good. But she was right and cruel when that was a good thing.

And many times she came and sometimes I saw the man like her father, Masters, watched her go and she saw it not, or at least not with her eyes and that is how we knew he was different too. And that first night we loved her. We would staye with her and attend near her as best we could. I remember the shooting stars and I thought she had made them for me. Celia brought us steals of eggs and roast meate when all we would have and knew were slops and a nasty tack. There seemed alwayes more than was in our hands. She had cloths to splaye the food on, from I know not where. This was an end, for we would never see Englande againe, but too a beginning and we thought magic had come.’

(Letter fragment part of a collection held in William and Mary College, Williamsburg, Virginia.)