Sunday, December 1, 2024

November's Writer Showcase: Wendy Heydorn

Wendy Heydorn

Some of you will recall July's Showcase, which focused on my good friend, Judy Worham. Well, I am thrilled to introduce our eleventh showcased writer of 2024, Wendy Heydorn, who just happens to be Judy's daughter. I haven't chosen to showcase her for this reason, but rather because she is an excellent writer and her work deserves promoting. A Cambridge graduate who teaches at Sevenoaks School in Kent, Wendy is both an academic and a gifted writer of fiction.


Wendy Heydorn 



Biography

The middle daughter of three girls, Wendy was born and raised in Sevenoaks where she has lived most of her life. She’s married to Carl, and they have two teenage children, William and Rosie, and a dog, Jumble (named after the dog in Richmal Crompton’s  ‘Just William’}.

She was always drawn to reading and writing, as a teenager, enjoying the poetry of Phillip Larkin, writing A Level English and History essays and applying for graduate jobs as a journalist. Educated at Bennett Memorial School in Tunbridge Wells, she discovered a taste for scholarly books, inspired by some brilliant teachers (Simon Brickell and Anne Scott) who inspired in her a theological fascination for all things New Testament and Church History. The fantastic Head at the time, Anne Scott, loaned her a copy of Albert Schweitzer’s book, The Quest for the Historical Jesus’ which opened up a fascination with the  ‘Jesus of history’ and the ‘Christ of faith’. 

Having graduated from Fitzwilliam College, Cambridge, she went on to study for an MA at King's College, London and a PGCE at the Maryvale Institute in Birmingham. She has worked in the educational sector for most of her career, as a teacher of Theory of Knowledge and Head of Religious Studies. 

She has come to writing through thinking about ideas. For her, writing and reading is not so much a necessity of routine, but more of an escape from the mundane chores of middle-aged life (she turned fifty this year). She loves listening to an audiobook whilst cleaning the house or unloading the dishwasher. Stories are part of her ‘life of the mind’, a way to feed the soul. She enjoys the creative process of writing, the wrestling to find the best words and the focusing on a project of her own. 

Her day job as a teacher has enabled her to keep her writing as a hobby and a ‘side-hustle’ in the school holidays; she’s co-authored three school textbooks with Cambridge University Press, and a forthcoming book on university entry with Trotman (to be published in April 2025). In her spare time, she is a writer of fiction and, in 2023, she self-published a novel set in New Testament times, Salome's Wish, under her maiden-name, W J Worham.

She is currently Director of Higher Education at a school in Kent. She advises students with their post-18 options and supports them with their university applications. Her book on higher education advice, co-authored with her colleague, Laurence Goodwin, is being published by Trotman in spring 2025. 


Wendy visits her textbook in the Cambridge University Press bookshop, 1 Trinity Street, Cambridge 

 

 Relevant links

Salome’s Wish 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Salomes-Wish-W-J-Worham-ebook/dp/B0C734BXW9/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&dib_tag=se&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.1HV7UG374WN3iWFHI8GM9qqgAgSDisTmnGAkN6gPJTDmU4__LgAJhujfQdpwgATNBHizrkYpHaAP8ndQuM2VJ2ERI5sNkmGmivDeasu_nzb97jb-jWnIVThxA7Q97RWyHsU2r3RDMg4R_xWcHq4U4A.nthCvWtq_61l_94odY83kdA28afKgyOXRlbK02kz_tY&qid=1730842088&sr=8-1

 

Group discussion questions for book groups reading ‘Salome’s Wish’

https://worhamwj.wordpress.com

 

Theory of Knowledge 

https://www.cambridge.org/us/education/subject/humanities/theory-knowledge/theory-knowledge-ib-diploma-3rd-edition/theory-knowledge-ib-diploma-3rd-edition-course-guide-digital-access-2-years-digital-course-guide-2-years?isbn=9781108865982

 

Linkedin 

https://www.linkedin.com/authwall?trk=gf&trkInfo=AQEBHojz0LhL1AAAAZL-O7mg9K-nNBqPl2IExD9ShzXO0zKp134XmbYw5iyMlfAoinzKUPY4r2DtTcdUlql6I47rVOP6dm49o5LbYz9sT5wmmC541y-5JZDQUaEWi9rsBLlh2uI=&original_referer=https://www.google.com/&sessionRedirect=https%3A%2F%2Fuk.linkedin.com%2Fin%2Fwendy-heydorn-9047326a

4]

New links [added 18 December 2024]

https://trotman.co.uk/products/an-educators-guide-to-university-applications?_pos=1&_sid=3912b6770&_ss=r

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1911724517/ref



******

Wendy was amongst the 120 women’s rugby players who returned in September to collect their cap and number, awarded to all the women who have played for the university since 1988 


Wendy has sent us examples of both her journalism and her fiction writing. Enjoy!


The first two samples here are extracts from Wendy's novel Salome's Wish:


As a reward for dancing at his banquet, Herod offers Salome a wish…but what does she really want? A novel for book groups, schools and churches – suitable for age 13+ exploring some of the most famous stories in the New Testament


CHAPTER 6:    Salome Herod’s fortress at Machaerus, Peraea

The shadows lengthen and the sky darkens as I stand at the edge of the stage, ready to perform. I need my performance to be perfect, to impress Marcus. My heart is pounding with nerves and excitement in equal measure. The time drags as I wait, but I know my routine well. There is perspiration on my fingertips as I smooth my skirt with my shaking hand. Servants carry trays of oysters served with honey and poppy seeds. The sight of this food makes me feel sick. Why isn’t my mother serving food that’s kosher? I expect she's bought in these Roman delicacies to impress her fashionable guests who recline, as they eat and drink.

I haven’t had a chance to talk to Marcus. He is speaking intently to my mother, but I wonder what they are talking about. Perhaps literature, poetry or even government? But another man who I don’t recognise is also speaking to them. He is the same height as Marcus but older than Herod, with a full beard and dressed in extravagant blue robes. Who is he?

The pipes and drums get louder, to signal the start of my dance. My mother joins Uncle Herod and sits on the throne next to him. I walk to the centre of the stage and pause. The guests fall silent. Every pair of eyes rest on me. The music pauses. Each man and woman steals a glance at the detail of my exquisite costume which reveals my slim and exposed waist. I have the attention that I crave. The drums beat faster and the pipes get louder. For once in my life, I am in control. People say that I’m graceful, poised, and elegant and my best moves are breath-taking. The loud applause makes my heart beat faster and my confidence rises within me.

I lie down and gaze up to the ceiling. My hair splays out around me. The tempo of the music increases. I arch my back into a deep, athletic bridge and point my toes upwards. I kick my legs, scissoring them high into the air, rolling backward into my first upright pose. I pause. In one movement, I jump to my feet and stretch upwards, elongating my body. The beat of the music flows through me. At once, my energy and pace increase to match the rhythm of the drum. The audience is attentive to each step.

I spin and glide around the room. I transform my shape into silhouettes that cast shadows against the back of the stage. Absorbed by the present moment, I enter a trance, and experience freedom. I twirl around the stage and somersault high into the air. The audience gasps. I jump and soar high, landing with precision, and continue the next step; a turn, a spin, a stretch, a jump.

Hungry for more, the guests cheer me on. I continue my display, my acrobatic moves becoming ever more fearless. I approach the back of the stage and run the diagonal length. The audience applauds. I jump backwards, flipping over, landing on my hands. I spring straight back into the air, turning two high somersaults. They cheer again. I run across the stage, this time spinning, flipping, and turning a full circle in the air.

My mother sits on her throne and beams at me. I have her attention, and this is my moment. My performance holds everyone’s gaze. The sound of their loud clapping overwhelms me, and I am bursting with joy. For once, it’s all about me and I’m happy. I curtsy to my audience. Delighting in their approval, I have the crowd in the palm of my hand. Some of the guests call out, ‘Dazzling. That was mesmerising. She’s amazing. What an outstanding dancer! Is that Herod’s daughter? We want more!’

I catch a glimpse of Marcus. His mouth is wide open, and I grin back at him. Is he impressed? I hope he likes me even more now he’s seen my dance. Why do I feel so strongly about him?

‘Bravo, bravo,’ shouts Herod. ‘Enchanting. My darling Salome, I will grant you a wish. As a reward for your wonderful dance, ask me for anything you would like!’ 

The guests applaud. My eyes meet the fat and imposing figure of Herod and I stare into his pale eyes.

Breathless, I pause and say, ‘Anything?’

‘Yes, anything,’ Uncle Herod reiterates. He grins at me, the folds of the skin on his cheeks turn into a revolting broad grin, exposing his rotting teeth. ‘I’ll offer you whatever you desire, Salome. I’ll give you as much as half my Kingdom!’

The guests are still staring at me. I can’t think. What is my wish? Nothing that Herod’s money can buy me. I’d like Marcus to pick me up in his arms and take me to Rome where we can marry and have some fun together.

My mother stands up, ‘My young daughter should really check with me first.’ She rushes up to me and places her mouth to my ear. The guests fall silent. Filling the awkward silence, one of them begins to clap again and shouts ‘bravo’. Another person calls out, ‘be careful what you wish for!’ and the crowd laugh.

‘Ask for it now,’ she commands.
I am horrified by the poison that she hisses at me. ‘I can’t say that. I don’t...’
The guests stir and some of them cover their mouths to murmur

and whisper awkwardly to one another.
‘Then I’ll say it for you,’ she spits under her breath. ‘Salome is

exhausted after her performance, but she has clearly stated her wish. This is her heart’s desire - the head of John the Baptist on a plate.’

Herod’s expression changes; his face drops and he shakes his head, ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t do that, my darling.’

The guests clap again and cheer, and someone in the crowd calls out, ‘It’s what she asked for. Give the girl what she wants. You promised her.’

Uncle Herod pauses before he stands up, raises his hands in the air and announces, ‘I must be true to my word. Guards, bring her the head of the prophet, at once. I will grant Salome’s wish.’ 

...


CHAPTER 32:    Zeb Sea of Galilee, Bethsaida, Galilee

I want to continue the conversation with Salome, but I can’t think of how to reply, so I just hold her hand. The silence lingers and as our natural tiredness sets in, she goes quiet, and falls asleep in my arms. I gaze up to the stars, but I am reminded of the generations of fishermen who have been here before, just like me, with their troubles unchanged by the beauty of these surroundings. I stare back at Salome and feel overwhelmed by my feelings for her; her flawless skin, her unbound hair, her chest rising and falling gently as the boat bobs.

Salome deserves the truth. I am desperate to find the words to tell her the truth about that bloody incident in Jerusalem that casts a shadow over me. That memory that still haunts me makes me cautious to pick my own battles. It also makes me even more determined to decide my own fate. I regret the deaths I caused. Everything could change between us if Salome knew the truth. How can I find the words to tell Salome that I’m a killer?

But somehow, it’s too late for talking. Instead, I go quiet and reflect on the same events again. Would she understand that I had underestimated the consequences of getting involved with Barabbas’ riot? She might even empathise with me if she knew that I was hungry back then. Barabbas paid me to fight with him and his men. It sounds arrogant now, but at the time I thought that my height and strength would guarantee that I’d succeed.

My thoughts turn over again and again, keeping me awake with the relentless rock of the boat. I was fighting against men with superior weapons and body armour. Despite my strength, I was no match for them and was lucky to survive the skirmish. The Jerusalem garrison is too difficult to beat. Barabbas is crazy if he thinks he can organise enough men to revolt against the Romans, who have occupied this land for so long.

Many people were unhappy with Pilate. The Temple tax money we give every year should be spent maintaining the Temple building. But without asking, he wasted that sacred money building an aqueduct to carry water a long distance to Jerusalem. Everyone agreed that the Romans were misusing Judaean money. We waited for Pilate to visit Jerusalem and Barabbas had organised a decent number of men. Our plan was to protest, and if needed, take control of the city and storm Pilate’s headquarters. Then he would have to change his mind about spending our money on an aqueduct. The crowd gathered in Jerusalem to protest at Pilate’s mishandling of money, but the soldiers descended on us from nowhere. They were hidden in the crowd, disguised in plain clothes. They attacked us with cudgels and clubs, so no one had time to think or defend themselves. Their fighting was brutal and bloody and innocent people were beaten with sticks and some were trampled in the chaos.

Thankfully I was able to defend myself with my dagger. I fought against the odds, and I stabbed one of the attackers in the leg and another in the throat. I may have killed four or more soldiers and seriously injured several others. But when so many Romans kept attacking the crowd, I fled. I escaped in time before Barabbas was arrested. I could have been incarcerated with him were it not for God’s protection. I look back on that day and believe that God was there with me, keeping me safe but I regret the blood I spilt. I saved some innocent women and children in the crowd, but I don’t think I can explain any of this to Salome. That’s why I often say that we cannot change the past, but we can imagine it differently or try to forget it. My fear is that one day, if Barabbas is ever released from prison, he will track me down and get his revenge; because he’ll assume that I deserted him. Since then, I’ve grown up and realised that I can’t fight the Roman occupation – I’d rather focus on goals that I can achieve. I want to tell Salome all of this now, but I promise myself that I will share this with her tomorrow. I’m poised to confide in her, but she is fast asleep in my arms.

I watch Salome’s soft breath go in and out, like the rhythm of gentle waves lapping against the boat, until a wave of tiredness crashes over me. 


...


Critical response: 

“Salome’s Wish is a very interesting novel about New Testament times, inspired by a careful reading of the story of John the Baptist’s death, and alert to ways in which this story might connect with many issues in our modern communities, as well as some great links to art. Do read it and enjoy it!”

LAT BLAYLOCK


 ...


The following extracts on the theme of university entry are published in Innovate, a teaching magazine (Sixth Edition), and the full article appears here:

https://www.sevenoaksschool.org/academic/institute-of-teaching-and-learning/research-and-development/


 A reflection on the advice we give to students and parents on higher education options –  

by Wendy Heydorn, Director of HE and Careers:

 

The importance of in-person experiences in an online world 

In 2007, the same year that today’s 17-year-olds were born, the iPhone was released.

Nearly two decades later, we are trying to understand the consequences of a technology they have literally ‘grown up’ with.   ‘The Anxious Generation’(2024) by Jonathon Haidt describes how teens, so-called Generation Z, underwent a ‘rewiring’ as a result of their increasing dependence on the internet in general, and their iPhones in particular. Haidt proposes that this amounts to an existential crisis for young people today. It’s a consequence of the digital revolution which occurred during the formative years of their childhood and adolescence. He describes this transformation from 2010 onwards of a transition from a ‘play-based childhood’ to a ‘phone-based childhood’, and the devastating consequences for adolescents’ mental health. He argues that excessive social media use associated with online addictions are the cause of mental health problems, depression and social isolation. Paradoxically putting social lives online has made people feel less connected and more isolated.

            Haidt proposes an antidote, arguing that young people need to develop real connections and roots in real relationships; with their families, in groups and in ‘in-person’ communities. He suggests that we need to belong to real communities, not virtual networks, because only real and embodied interactions will meet our deep human need for belonging and social connection that has evolved over millennia. This has important implications for how students might think about their education at school and university and in their future employment.

 

...


Guidance for parents on the transition from school to university

In The Anxious Generation (2024), Jonathan Haidt uses the analogy of racing cars to illustrate the approach that some parents take towards university admissions. The child is like a fragile racing car, and the parents are like the pit-crew, responsible for the fine-tuning of ‘the race car’ which depends on their pitstop team for their success. Paradoxically, this approach taken by parents can become problematic if it prevents their son or daughter from ‘owning the application process’ and risks the independence they will need to develop as adults, whether at university or in the workplace.

Autonomy is key to the success of university applications, and students should be ‘the drivers’ of their own application without the need for excessive pit-stop intervention from their parents. Parents should give plenty of encouragement, stay open to the possibilities and open-minded about the outcome or final university destination.  Above all, parents and schools should encourage and allow students to be active in their research, course choice, open day visits and university choices. A university or job application is not something that happens to a student; their university, apprenticeship or job applications are shaping their future, hopefully something they are excited about and feel responsible for.


 ...


The need for in-person communities

University is not only about education; it’s also about joining and belonging to a community – one that values in-person activities and prioritises the mental health of students. US universities in particular are renowned for their focus on community membership, and they select applicants who they believe will have a positive impact on their community.  Moreover, the importance of alumni networks means that university entry offers joining a life-long membership to a network of people. Indeed, schools and universities can be crucial in combatting the problem of isolation that Haidt has identified; they create the environments for in-person connections which contribute to student’s social and emotional well-being.

 






******


And finally we come to The Big

 Interview, in which Wendy kindly

 answers writing-related 

questions and lets us into 

some of her writing secrets...


 

1. How old were you when you first knew you wanted to be a writer, and what set you off down that journey?

 At university, I wrote for a student newspaper, Varsity, and interviewed one of the first ever Anglican women priests. I wrote the college yearbook entry for my cohort when we graduated. I set out to become a journalist, applying for a job with the Kent and Sussex Courier.

In 1994, I did work experience with Walter Schwarz, the Religious Affairs Correspondent at The Guardian. He invited me to write an article for their ‘Face to Faith’ column in which I defended the ideas of the philosopher of religion, Don Cupitt, best known for his ‘Sea of Faith’ movement and his non-realist approach to religious faith (in response to a news story at the time about Anthony Freeman, the clergyman who was sacked from the Church of England for his alleged atheism). Rowan Williams, who at the time, was the Bishop of Monmouth, replied to my article in The Guardian letters page, which resulted in various subsequent letters between us both, back and forth. With hindsight, it amuses me that the man who went on to become the Archbishop of Canterbury took the time to publicly disagree with me. WJ Worham of Fitzwilliam College, against whom he was arguing, was a second-year undergraduate!

Following this, I knew there was something more that I wanted to say, but I didn't yet know what it was. At Don Cupitt’s 60th birthday party, I met his daughter who kindly put me in touch with Anima Bose, an elderly scholar based in Delhi. Anima helped me with my dissertation on the religious dimension of M.K. Gandhi’s ideas. I visited her in India on a research scholarship and she was the first to teach me about Martin Buber’s notion of ‘I and thou’ and I had a tentative plan to write her biography.

 

For more on the ‘Sea of Faith’ movement:

https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m00256wy

  

2. Tell us about the books and writers that have shaped your life and your writing career.

I wanted to stay on at university and do further study but none of these plans worked out and I was fortunate to try out teaching instead. I’ve been lucky to have worked with many colleagues who also pursue creative projects and research alongside their teaching. The school where I currently work has been a very supportive environment and an intellectually-enriching community that has inspired my mind, fed my soul and inspired my classroom teaching for many years. We are encouraged to develop ‘the life of the mind’ and I owe a lot to my past and present colleagues for my intellectual growth. I’m grateful that I get to work in education and a community that values critical thinking and ideas. 


3. Have your children, other family members, friends or teachers inspired any of your writing? In what way?

My Mum went to University College London as a mature student where she studied for an English degree. A vivid childhood memory from age 10 was of her writing her university dissertation, typing away on our 1980’s Amstrad computer. She was exploring the theme of ‘disability and disfigurement in Charles Dickens’ works’ and infuriatingly, the whole thing failed to save on the ‘floppy disk’; it was a drama and she eventually managed to either rewrite or recover it.

I also remember on a family holiday to Cornwall, whilst other parents on the beach were leafing through copies of Woman's Weekly, or the latest Jilly Cooper, my mum was reading Edmund Spenser’s epic poem The Faerie Queene. Books and ideas mattered to her and that had a positive impact on me as I entered my teenage years. She still inspires me so much; at the age of 78, she has just published her first novel.

 

4. Does the place you live have any impact on your writing?

Bosham near Chichester is where my wonderful in-laws live and my husband, Carl and I have spent many happy holidays there since the late 90’s. We both love spending time by the sea. Our children and dog love it there too; it’s a very special place.


Bosham, a landscape that inspires Wendy's writing [photograph taken by....] 

 

 Another landscape that inspires Wendy's writing - a Kentish woodland [Jumble, Wendy's cockerpoo, posing in centre] -[photograph taken by ....]

 

5. How did you begin to write educational textbooks?  

I’ve co-authored four non-fiction books and written one novel. Around 2010, I was teaching Year 12 students the International Baccalaureate Critical Thinking course, Theory of Knowledge. One of them was finding it a challenge to question the nature of knowledge and knowing, and so, to help them to understand some of the concepts, I started writing some basic chapters on them. I used Apple ‘Pages’ and tried to use plain and simple language and accessible examples to convey some of the more abstract ideas.

In 2012, with everything moving in the direction of digital and electronic resources, I assumed there would be no market for a school-based text book. TOK was a renowned course with well-established existing authors. By chance, a colleague who reviewed books for Cambridge University Press suggested I send my chapters to CUP. Following his kind recommendation, I was very lucky to have a book proposal taken seriously, and after a meeting with the commissioning editor, I was asked to submit more sample chapters. I was teamed up with the wonderful Susan Jesudason and together we co-authored three text books:

      Decoding Theory of Knowledge for the IB Diploma 1st edition (2013) and 2nd edition (2020)

      Theory of Knowledge for the IB Diploma Course Guide (2020)


Hot from the press...


6. Are there certain themes that draw you to them when you are writing?

I’m interested in expanding my knowledge. I like learning. The textbooks I wrote on the nature of knowledge in various areas - history, human science, the arts etc - led me to read widely and sharpen my thinking.

Since 2010, alongside teaching, I’ve also worked with a team of colleagues to support students with their university applications. I have just finished the second draft of a book I've co-authored with my colleague, Laurence Goodwin, due to be published with Trotman in April 2025, ‘An Educator’s Guide to University Applications: Supporting Students with their Post-18 Options’. I hope that this book will share good practice and help colleagues in other schools who are also advising students with their post-18 options; from degree apprenticeships, to Gap Years, to universities in the UK, US and other international destinations .

 

7. Tell us about how you approach your writing. Are you a planner or a pantser?

I would say, both. As a writer, I need order and chaos for the creative process to happen. To use a metaphor from Greek mythology, we need both sons of Zeus: Apollo would be the planner, Dionysus would be the pantser. I like a plan and a mess of ideas; one feeds the other. I liked a spreadsheet for plotting my novel, with the overall story arc planned out, and chapters planned. When I’m revising and implementing feedback on a draft text, I like a spreadsheet with all the suggestions for edits that can be ticked off. So yes, I like a plan. But none of us know where our ideas really come from and I don't know what I'm going to write until I start typing. Walking helps me; ideas often come to me when I'm walking the dog or listening to music and I note them down as I go.

 

8. Do you have any advice for someone who might be thinking about starting to write creatively?

In October 2013, my mum shared a Guardian article on ‘how to write a novel in 30-days’. Unusually, my school’s half term didn’t coincide with my own young children’s and so I had a few days free. Maybe in another possible world, I could have cleaned the house or gone shopping. Instead, I got started looking at the Guardian resources on offer: planning sheets, and worksheets for sketching out characters with spaces to fill in their attributes and preferences. I struggled to plan a basic plot but ended up with the start of a spreadsheet, for structuring chapters and the overarching plot.

During the school holidays that followed, I eventually found techniques that worked. This process was very slow and there were plenty of setbacks, dead-ends and deleted chapters. But I kept going, writing during the school holidays and eventually finished in June 2023. It had taken me 10 years to write a novel and what ‘could’ have taken 30-days turned out to be over 3000 days! However, this book became my debut novel, Salome’s Wish, published under my pen-name, W J Worham, because I didn't want it to get confused with my Theory of Knowledge textbooks.

So, my advice to other writers would be to take your time; just like one of Kevin McCloud’s ‘Grand Designs’ TV programmes, you should expect your writing project to take longer than you’d ever imagine. Writing is my hobby, so I treat it like one; I enjoy it and I take breaks. Fortunately, my life and income doesn’t depend on my writing being a success.

 

Photograph of Wendy's novel being read by a swimming pool by one of her friends-[photograph provided by Wendy]

 

 9. Are you, or have you been in the past, a member of any writing groups, online or face-to-face?  

I've been fortunate to find a reading group amongst some kindred spirits of a similar age and stage of life. For over a year, we’ve chosen books, hosted discussions in our houses and I've broadened my appreciation for the craft of writing. Were it not for that group, I would never have encountered the wonderful Niall Williams’ book, This Is Happiness, an utterly charming book that captures the genuine warmth of a community, set in Ireland just before electricity was introduced to the village…Highly recommended!

  

10. You are a well-educated and highly intelligent woman. Have you studied creative writing in a formal way? 

No, not yet. I'd like to do one of these courses but haven’t done one. Lots of people in the creative writing industry are keen for you to part with money for their services or enrol you on a course. The commercialisation of writing is an interesting phenomenon - it’s curious why so many aspiring writers want to pay to learn the craft of writing, in a digital age that coincides with a decline in reading habits.

Writing is individual and collaborative. Courses and services are collaborative. Writing a first draft is often done alone; it’s independent. That’s the beauty of writing; it’s you and the pen, or you and the laptop. It's about finding space, discovering a voice.

            My Dad has written some very entertaining and thought-provoking articles for his local village magazine and he is living proof that no training is required; he’s the last person I know who would ever enrol on a writing course, but he is a talented and naturally engaging writer with an original perspective on life.

            Visiting Chawton in Hampshire where Jane Austen wrote six of her novels made me appreciate the fact that we have central heating, electric lights and the sources and inspiration online that she could never have dreamed of. I was struck by her writing table which seemed like a small and rickety piece of furniture and it’s humbling to think that she could focus on her craft because her family supported her and did domestic chores on her behalf.

            Today we have so many distractions and find excuses and reasons not to write, but the main distraction for writers today is the excessive time we spend online; it's a blessing and curse. Writing won't be replaced by Chat GPT because it can't be you; a Large Language Model cannot simulate your intellectual life. A machine doesn't search for meaning nor possess ideas that are of personal significance. Pilgrimage and the creative process have much in common; if you're a writer, your journey is your writing and drafting. It's not so much about the finished product or completing the final draft. It’s about the process; trial and error and an ongoing conversation. 


11. What do you think about getting feedback on your work from other writers and/or non-writers?  

Yes, I like feedback, as it’s always an opportunity to improve. I want to know how my first draft can be better, and then the second draft. I’m grateful to the people who take the time to read my drafts and help me improve.

 

12. If you have experience of self-publishing, what have been its challenges and rewards? 

You learn from doing it; producing interior files, designing covers, barcodes, ISBNs. Then there's uploading the book to Amazon KDP and submitting a book for ‘New releases for Less’ with BookBub. The list goes on. There’s a lot to discover. Abbie Emmons on YouTube is an inspiration who has some excellent resources to get started on the self-publishing process.

 

13. Where do you get your ideas from?

I often get my ideas whilst out walking the dog. I’ve plotted scenes for my novel whilst walking in the Otford hills. I’m often running my ideas by my daughter, Rosie. She's been so helpful, discussing with me what works and what doesn't.

 

14. They say that successful writers need to be selfish. How far do you agree with this? 

At home I write while sitting on the sofa; I don't have a study. I just have my laptop out and I start typing. I write in the evenings if I feel like it. And if I'm not working, I’ll write in the morning too; I like a first cup of tea and a blank page. For me, writing is not so much about routine or habit as it fits round the other things I do; my work and my family. It’s more about expression, finding words to express ideas and finding a voice; I don't think that’s selfish.

 

15. Beyond your family and your writing, what other things do you do?

I enjoyed pottery and calligraphy when I was younger and entered italic handwriting competitions. I played rugby in my teens and 20s. Now I do weight training and the occasional run, dog walking and gardening. I also like baking cakes and cooking.


 

Wendy (pictured at the end on the right) found her community at university through playing rugby, and thirty years on, they still meet up!


Wendy was awarded cap number 94 for playing rugby for the Cambridge women’s team in 1994 and 1995

 

16. Would you describe yourself as a ‘cultured’ person?

‘Cultured’ seems like a rather snobby category; some people like opera and ballet and use the arts to signal their social status, but the arts are meant to be accessible and enjoyed by all. I like ballet because I danced until the age of 15. If the choice is between watching Paddington in Peru at the cinema or viewing an exhibition at the National Gallery, I’d like to do both.

 

17. Are you interested in history and if so does it impact on your writing?

 I was inspired by Pat Parker’s two novels about the Trojan War written from the viewpoint of the female protagonists. I also enjoyed reading Naomi Alderman’s historical novel, The Liars’ Gospel,  based in New Testament times. My novel, Salome's Wish, was set in New Testament times; it pushed me to think about historical evidence, truth, facts and narrative. I questioned whether it might be too religious for a secular audience but too unorthodox for a religious audience; thankfully it's been well received by the Religious Education teaching community and Lat Blaylock has been complementary about it. It’s difficult to write with suspense about events whose outcomes and consequences are well-known but I hope I've written a novel that will be read and enjoyed.

Observing my teaching colleagues in the English department inspired me to read Anna Karenin by Tolstoy and Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert. These books made me think about the representation of women in literature. Female perspectives interest me, and historical views also fascinate me - I loved Robert Harris’s Cicero trilogy. Theological ideas and themes always interest me and I love Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan.

  

18. There is a lot of talk at the moment. in the publishing world and elsewhere, about political correctness, the Woke movement, cultural appropriation, ‘cancel culture’, ‘trigger warnings’, sensitivity readers and the importance of diversity. What are your thoughts on this, with regard to writing?

Freedom of expression is a British value and a cornerstone of our society. However, it’s a concern that a culture of censorship has emerged in the UK with language becoming weaponized, a phenomenon which has significant implications for writers. A tribal society would insist that we pick sides and set groups up against one another, censoring and accusing anyone who challenges authoritarian thinking. A social and political narrative of division is a problematic context for writers to write in. It’s important that we can discuss and debate, that people can disagree well, and reach different conclusions to one another. I don’t intend offence, but I will stand up for freedom of speech. We need Orwell to remain fiction!

           The issue for writers is where their writing sits in the context of identity politics. Everyone should be protected under the law. The concept of ‘protected characteristics’ makes historical sense and it has good intentions; it is intended to protect groups who have been historically marginalised or mistreated. We need to treat all people with kindness and respect, and we all need to be under the rule of law equally. We also need to protect freedom of speech, good judgement and common sense, but fear has meant that these things are sometimes in scant supply. What could be more important than writing? A writer can use their voice to unite, to build community, to connect, to imagine ‘what if’, to inspire.

           I also wonder if we should critique the role of feelings and offence. Authors often show us through literature that feelings have never been a reliable measure of truth - from Malvolio’s misguided feelings in Twelfth Night, to Marianne’s sensibility in Sense and Sensibility. In Pride and Prejudice, Mr Darcy found much to offend his idea of decorum in Elizabeth Bennett and her family: her tactless mother who possessed ‘no filter’, her somewhat negligent father and her younger sisters who lacked propriety. Elizabeth fell far short of the standards of an ‘accomplished’ woman, according to Caroline Bingley. In turn, Elizabeth Bennett concluded that Darcy was rude, pompous and arrogant. Elizabeth didn't set out to offend Darcy, but he took offence to her and was prejudiced against her low family connections. Darcy did not intend to be perceived by Elizabeth as an arrogant, privileged snob.

           I find it interesting why feelings have come to play such an important role in recent politics. Darcy could be on difficult ground today if Elizabeth had chosen to take offence. If she lived today, Elizabeth could have accused him of sexism or misogyny. But Elizabeth and Darcy were both mistaken about one another, and they both learn that they were wrong. The best plot lines involve misunderstanding, the best characters often make mistakes, and our journeys with them on their character arcs enable us to grow in understanding and appreciation.

Life is full of unintended consequences and unknowns. Often, we don't know how we seem to others and we will always be strangers to ourselves. We can never know how we appear to others, but we can rely on the idea that, if we try to become kinder, more compassionate, and try to listen and understand one another, we can become more empathetic. We will try to hear someone else’s voice, and we will endeavour to understand them.

That’s what makes us human; we are incomplete and yet we find ourselves in our relationships, our connections. Our communities are our sacred spaces, and as I am part and product of that community, I hope I can also influence and use my voice for the benefit of others. Part of that responsibility is to defend the right of other people to disagree with me. 

 

19. Where would you place your own writing, on a continuum with PURE FANTASY at one end and COMPLETE REALISM at the other?

There’s the renowned Picasso quote, ‘Art is a lie that brings us closer to the truth’. That's the interesting paradox for writers (and artists). Fiction has to be convincing on the one hand, sufficiently close to the real world of plausible, compelling characters and authentic settings to appeal to and stand out in a saturated market. However, imagination is essential; writing fiction is a creative process. Stories aren’t real, but somehow there is a truth in fiction.

 

20. Do you have any quotations about writing that you’d like to share with us?

I like these quotes, both by Anne Tyler:

 “I read so I can live more than one life in more than one place.”

“I write because I want more than one life; I insist on a wider selection. It's greed, plain and simple.’

 

22.: What's the best advice you've received about writing?

The best advice I received was from my son, William: ‘Mum, don't try and make money out of your book. It's your hobby.’ I hope that my response to these questions have communicated something of the joy and fun of writing.

  

******


Thank you very much, Wendy, for such an interesting and informative showcase. 



******

 

In September, I will be showcasing 


another fabulous writer: 

EB

Not to be missed!



 

******


So far in this series, I’ve showcased the following writers: 

Ruth Loten – March 2023

Jane Langan – March 2023

Beck Collett – April 2023

Ron Hardwick – June 2023

L.N.Hunter – July 2023

Katherine Blessan – August 2023

Jill Saudek – September 2023

Colin Johnson – October 2023

Sue Davnall – November 2023

Alain Li Wan Po – December 2023

Lily Lawson – January 2024

Philip Badger – February 2024

Glen Lee – March 2024

DHL Hewa - April 2024

Tonia Trainer - May 2024

Mike Poyzer – June 2024

Judith Worham - July 2024

Chrissie Poulter - August 2024

Adele Sullivan - September 2024

Lin De Laszlo - October 2024

Wendy Heydorn - November 2024

You can find all these showcases by scrolling back through the material on this blog.


******
              

Tuesday, November 26, 2024

Rather Late Mid-Month Musings: November - IT BROADENS THE MIND!

HOW TO BE A CURSED TRAVELLER

When I was a teenager, my best friend, B, and I used to fantasise about travelling the world. We're both now 60 and she's fulfilled that particular dream. In addition to visiting many places in Europe, she's travelled as far afield as the USA, Russia, Japan and Peru. 

The furthest I've ever been is Madrid...

When we were younger, my husband and I couldn’t afford to travel much. During eleven years living in London, we had four weekends abroad [Paris, Amsterdam, Brussels and Madrid]. I also went on a couple of day trips to Boulogne with the Business Admin students at the college where I worked. Since we moved back to Yorkshire, we've been on a three-day coach trip to Giverny for my fortieth birthday during which we visited Paris, Fontainebleau and Versailles. I've also been to two Christmas Markets with my sister – one in Cologne, which was great, and one in Ostend, which was terrible.

Our passports have run out twice without being used.

We now have a bit more money, but P, an only child, no longer feels he can leave his elderly, frail mother on her own while he nips off abroad. Given that her smoke alarm went haywire during our two-day break in Cheshire in the summer, and her cistern flooded when we were spending two days in Alnwick last month, I think he has a point. 

The smoke-alarm incident did result in his mum opening the door to three burly firemen on the morning of her birthday, some weeks later, which would have thrilled many women I know [and some men], though it just irritated P's mum. They had come to fix a new alarm. I'm not sure why it took three of them to fix one alarm, though I'm assured this is how the fire service operates and that there are sound reasons for it. Maybe one fixes it while the other two pose beside the fire engine so the neighbours can take selfies with them.

Yes, they arrived in a fire-engine, which embarrassed P's mum as she thought her neighbours would think her house was on fire, just a few days after it had been flooded by water from the overflowing cistern. I think she was imagining a headline in the local paper saying


Tragic pensioner nicknamed 'Bad Luck Badger' after house flooded then destroyed by fire in same week 


However, I suspect that the fire service don't knock politely on the front doors of houses that are actually on fire.

P's mum didn't enjoy her birthday because it resulted in a stream of neighbours knocking on her door all morning, bringing cards and gifts, which is always horrible, isn't it? And she had to come to our house in the afternoon for a birthday tea, and no one wants to do that.  As she pointed out repeatedly, looking as if she was being seriously harrassed:  'I've got so many bunches of flowers, Susan, the porch is full and I don't know what to do with them all!'. [You might be wondering why she calls me Susan, but it's simply because she muddles me up with her neighbour, Susan; I'm used to it - my friend B's mum called me Lucille for years]. One relative, whom she hasn't spoken to in years, visited her with a present and card, and, as she told us in a tone of outrage, he 'stayed about an hour'. People can be so inconsiderate...


  

P's mum's 90th Birthday Cake made by 'Lindsay across the road' - fruit cake decorated like a teacup filled with roses with two iced biscuits on a yellow table cloth [photographs by me] [Her response: 'What am I going to do with a cake?']


Needless to say, she was unimpressed by the home-made card I lovingly crafted for her. I don't know why I bother. No one likes my home-made cards, but I keep on making them in a battle of wills. I'll wear the buggers down eventually.

Another reason I'm reluctant to travel these days is that I'm also no longer as fond of the actual travelling part as I used to be – all that faffing about at airports really puts me off. Apparently they have moving walkways and you have to put your shampoo in a transparent plastic bag – Oh, brave new world!

If only Star Trek's Transporter beam were real - though there'd still be excruciating waits at passport control.

I'm now thinking about how cool the world would be if they installed moving walkways and escalators on all our streets. Imagine the fun you'd have watching uncoordinated people leaping on and off, or whizzing round corners clutching their shopping! Late-night fights outside popular pubs would take on a whole new interest as fighters tried to beat the bejesus out of each other while being carried along a conveyor belt. You could have different speed lanes like on motorways, so that couples who weren't paying attention would gradually move apart from each other while new partners moved alongside, like one of those country dances we used to do at school. But I digress... 

One of the main reasons we haven't been abroad recently, however, is the fact that we are Cursed Travellers. I don't really believe in bad luck, curses, hexes, or the supernatural in general, but I must admit that there have been times when P and I have both seriously wondered whether we unwittingly upset a witch [or at the very least a minor rain god] at some point in our past lives. Like the time we went to Cornwall and were stalked for a week by a thick fog. In fact, we've never actually seen Cornwall in the sunshine despite going there more than half a dozen times. I'm told it's quite pretty, but I wouldn't know. 

Because I'm a Cursed Traveller. 

Take our recent two-day mini-break in York, for instance. Back in January, my sister and bro-in-law invited us to spend two nights in what a colleague in the south once termed 'the Tunbridge Wells of the north', with them, so we could look round the famous Christmas Market. It seemed like a good idea at the time. 

And actually it's much more like Canterbury than Tunbridge Wells.

As we set off, the weather was dry, bright and sharp, perfect for a Christmassy visit, so it seemed that all might be well on this occasion. As I said to P on the drive up the M1, 'Sis and Bro-in-law aren't cursed like us, so hopefully we'll be able to take advantage of their good fortune'.

But sadly it was not to be. On the first day, we arrived late and so couldn't get into the hotel car park. Sis and Bro-in-law got there in good time and got a space. They were having an expensive lunch with several gin and tonics in Fenwicks by the time we arrived. The overflow car-park was a section of a nearby retail park's car-park and had to be paid for by using a QR code on your phone. I tried using my phone's QR reader but got through to something that was possibly a scam - after trying to make it work for over thirty minutes, P did it on his phone in about five minutes.* 

By this time, we were too late to get to the Yorvik Centre for the session we'd booked, so Sis and Bro-in-law went there without us while we had a late lunch in a grotty Starbucks in the retail park before carrying our luggage to the hotel to check-in. It turned out that our Yorvik Centre tickets are valid for a year, though, so we can go there in the future maybe. I mean, who doesn't like a very slow ride through the sights, sounds and smells of a Viking city? 

It also turned out that my recent fibromyalgia flare-up hadn't actually ended, after all [it only ends when the fat lady stops groaning as she walks], as it took me about ten minutes to walk the hundred yards to the hotel carrying a couple of fairly light bags, and I felt liked I'd climbed The Matterhorn.

That evening, Sis had a bad migraine [too many g and ts in Fenwicks] and ended up sleeping it off while we went out with Bro-in-law to look round the Christmas Market and get some food. The market was very pretty with its lights twinkling but I think the waitress in a teashop we visited next day had it right when she described it as 'the robbin' market'. It was a tad over-priced. I made the mistake of drinking a large cup of mulled wine with spiced rum in it which led to my spending £38 on a small box of miniature flavoured gins which seemed outrageous the next day when I'd sobered up. I also forgot to go back and buy a scarf and some chocolate-flavoured rum I'd seen earlier, which is probably just as well as we don't want to remortgage our house at the moment. We had a meal in a pub, and got Sis a ready-made salmon salad from the Coop for her tea. Well, if she insists on having a migraine, all she can expect is a Coop ready-meal.

Later, we cuddled up in bed [P and I, not Sis and I] to watch TV but, two minutes after we switched it on, the TV froze - we tried to remove the batteries from the remote but they were screwed in, and we searched the actual TV itself to find a manual on-off switch but there was nothing that worked. We couldn't turn the screen or the sound off, so all we could see was the TV guide with flashes of the film The Life And Times Of Colonel Blimp visible round the edges. I knew we'd never be able to sleep with the sound of  Roger Livesey and Deborah Kerr, who play Blimp and his wife in this superb Powell and Pressburger epic. playing in the background. So Philip pulled on his clothes and went to reception where he was told it was a problem that had come to their attention soon after the hotel opened three months ago and we just needed to reset the connection in the fuse box. Obviously the hotel feels that resolving this issue is something that's not an  urgent task - they did seem quite under-staffed. We ate in the hotel's restaurant the following night and I saw a child who looked around 13 wearing the staff uniform and waiting on tables.

The bed was comfy but rather high, and I was in a lot of pain, remember. Every time I had to get up to go to the loo during the night, I forgot how high the bed was and sort of fell out, accompanied by a series of groans and sighs, waking P who made a kind of disgruntled moo each time before mumbling 'Are you all right?', turning over and getting back to a serious bout of snoring. The room was pitch black with the curtains shut, and I kept banging my toes on the bed's legs or the door jam. Once, I caught my hip on a metal bottle-opener screwed to the edge of the wooden desk, presumably for those visitors who wished to drink themselves into oblivion as they couldn't turn the bleedin' telly off and they were desperate. 

I'd then open the bathroom door and be blinded by the excruciatingly bright light, then startled by the hideous eldritch woman standing behind the toilet, her hair wildly tangled and her eyes squinting angrily without her specs [until I realised it was simply my reflection in the huge mirror]. I imagine all the hotel rooms contained groaning, injured, sleep-deprived middle-aged holidaymakers constantly stumbling round their rooms in the dark like Peter Sellars in The Pink Panther films.

Both nights I woke at around five o'clock and read my kindle for an hour before falling back asleep and then failing to wake up, refreshed and alert, at a more reasonable time when the alarm went off - by 'alarm' I mean Philip shaking me and shouting in my face 'It's time for breakfast!'.

Breakfast was actually quite good fun, despite the law that insists that one of the two toasters in every budget hotel MUST be out of action at any given time, and the other one must be turned to the lowest setting every time a staff member walks past it. You know it's a proper budget hotel if your toast is still white after being through the mind-bogglingly slow machine three times. The food wasn't bad at all though we did try to save money on lunch  by stuffing ourselves with as much of the 'limitless'  full English as we could manage in the hotel before we set out for the day of site-seeing. That's why it's always easier to mug a tourist in the morning, while they're still recovering from sausage overload.

The first evening we went to the market, I hobbled back to the hotel like a malfunctioning robot because I had a dreadful pain in my right hip. It was as if a rope of agony was stretching from mid-buttock to my appendix and sending searing pains down my leg with every step. You'll be relieved to know that by the next morning my right hip felt completely pain-free. The agonising rope had moved to my left hip instead, presumably ro investigate what damage it could do there. This resulted in my taking lots of painkillers which made me dopy and sleepy [please, no Seven Dwarfs jokes...], and also resulted in my adopting a ridiculous walk which involved swinging my bad leg to minimise the pain. I resembled a very short and fat John Cleese practising for The Ministry Of Silly Walks as I shambled and hobbled up the cobbles of The Shambles. Try saying that after two mulled wines with extra spiced rum.  It's a good job we decided not to walk round the city walls as I'd probably have fallen off.


York City Walls [photo taken from car just as we arrived]

We visited the Minster which I have visited many times before and every time I am astounded by how much it costs. It is now £18. 'We rely on your entry fees and donations to keep this building standing,' the tour guide told us, and part of my brain couldn't help thinking that true Christians should spend that money on feeding the starving and providing shelter for the homeless, and let the building take it's chances. It is clearly a thing of beauty and historic significance, however. I am particularly fascinated by the hundreds of tiny individually-sculpted faces carved into the walls of The Chapter House. Many are human, some pleasant-looking, some not - many are animals or supernatural creatures, or representations of the Green Man. Some are monstrous and gargoyle-ish.


Gargorle fridge magnet from gift shop



By the time the tour had finished, Sis and I were churched-out so we went for a cuppa and a slab of cake while P and Bro-in-law visited the Cathedral Museum. I had a piece of what the waitress insisted was Battenberg cake, on the grounds presumably that it had a layer of pink sponge. However, it was circular, three layers high, the layers glued together with buttercream [or Satan's Cement as I call it] - no marzipan, no apricot jam, not a hint of almond flavour, and stale from having stood uncovered all day. This sort of disappointment might seem trivial to people who don't spend most of their life trying to lose weight and therefore look forward with excessive zeal to the occasional cakey treat. It might seem even more mystifying to those weirdoes who don't like cake much and claim to be indifferent to all desserts. But to two overweight middle-aged Yorkshire women on a mini-break and a budget, it was heartbreaking. 


York Minster

Sis bought a hat that really suited her. I tried it on, back at the hotel, and thought it really suited me too. And suddenly I wanted one for myself. Desperately. I haven't had such an intense desire for something for myself in years - it felt like being a kid again. P suggested that we might have time to go back to the market next day and buy one of these hats before we went home, BUT then Storm Bert hit and the next morning the sky was the colour of pewter and the rain was falling in a solid sheet. Not to mention that the traffic was horrendous, we found out the market didn't open until midday, and, half an hour after Sis and Bro-in-law left the hotel, we discovered our car had a flat battery. When the Green Flag mechanic finally arrived around two-and-a-half hours later, he said the flat battery was probably caused by P having to move the car the short distance from the retail park to the hotel car-park the morning after we arrived and then the fact that it had snowed overnight and the car had got very cold. During our two-and-a-half hour wait, we couldn't visit the Christmas Market because Green Flag Man kept texting us that he'd be arriving in half an hour or twenty minutes.

So I didn't get my hat.


   

Me in 'The Hat' which I still think looks cool, even though I looklike I drive a steam train for a living.


Green Flag Man finally arrived, sorted the car and we drove home. Sis and Bro-in-law were at home, unpacked and drinking a cup of tea by twelve o'clock. Due to heavy traffic queues between York and the McArthur Glen Shopping Centre on the A64, we finally got home around four.


* I often have problems with technology. Last night I went to the theatre with my friends B and T, and the tickets were on my phone. I had got it to the correct screen and thought all was going smoothly but the little aged bloke who tried to scan my phone said the screen was too dark. I have no idea why it was too dark as I hadn't darkened it, nor did I have any idea how to brighten it. T knew how but didn't have her correct glasses on, but she did manage to do it eventually. I was in a lot of pain at the time and this rigmarole wasn't helping my mood, and I found myself snapping at the attendant: 'We're coming in whether it works or not!' . Later, I felt bad about this momentary nastiness and mentioned this to B whose response was 'You could have taken him, Louise - he was only little!'. So now I can't think of Sheffield or the show we saw [Defying Gravity: West End Women - it was very good] without picturing myself drop-kicking an innocent little old man down the steps of the City Hall. 

This is what technology does to people...


*****



Saturday, November 16, 2024

A NOVEL YOU MIGHT BE INTERESTED IN


Sitcom Affairs by Judy Roberts




Sitcom Affairs is the latest novel by Judy Roberts [showcased in July 2024 as Judy Worham].

 

It’s a romantic comedy which follows the lives of three women, Ellie, Jess and Alex, who work full time in a Further Education College. When they win the BBC Sitcom Writing Competition, they acquire an agent as part of the prize. What they have written isn’t what the BBC want to put on, however, so they are asked to come up with an alternative sitcom. Their agent, Charlie, suggests they stay in his cottage in Dorset during their half-term holiday so they can concentrate on writing without the distractions in their normal lives.

The week that should have been a peaceful time, solely focussed on writing, is full of unexpected events. During their time away from home, each woman’s life is irrevocably changed.

Sitcom Affairs is now available on Kindle Direct Publishing on the Amazon website [from 5th November]. It will also be available in paperback format if you don’t have a kindle, or have one and hate the sight of it.

If this appeals to you, here is the link to download it in whatever format best suits your reading habits:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DLHDQRWC/ref=mp_s_a_1_1?crid=17Z4UIJLGV0HJ&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.b5Xb6aUJV3qaQFTFMilBSg.Vmy3JUj4ZirIMztlas1vTOnZO9vK3QElfb4lT4PI04U&dib_tag=se&keywords=judy+roberts+sitcom+affairs&nsdOptOutParam=true&qid=1730388835&sprefix=judy+roberts+sitcom+affairs%2Caps%2C61&sr=8-1

  

ISBN: 9780957031746.