The queen of new beginnings (by Erica James)

(Amazon UK link)

I’m slowly re-reading the many novels I have on my shelves by Erica James. I’ve read some of them more than once, and they feel nicely familiar when I re-read. But there are others which I have read only once, when I first acquired them, and for which I have no memory whatsoever. One of the latter group is ‘The queen of new beginnings’, which I read back in 2011. I’ve just reread it, and, on the whole, liked it very much. 

The first character we meet is the rather grumpy Clayton, who is trying to write his obituary. Not that he’s old or ill; but it’s a clever device that lets us see some of what’s gone on in his life without undue explanations. We quickly learn that he is a writer who’s had success in the TV world in the past. But his writing partner went off with his girlfriend, and Clayton seems to be suffering writers’ block without him. 

Worse still, something has happened that means he has to leave London. We don’t learn what that was until much later in the book. His agent Glen has found him somewhere remote to stay undercover until the press latch onto something else.

In chapter two we meet Alice, a young woman who works doing voice overs for adverts and readings for the radio. She is talented at realistic voices, although she had once hoped to be an actress. She lives next-door to Ronnetta, who runs a cleaning agency. Ronnetta’s son Bob wants to go out with Alice and won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Alice sometimes works for Ronnetta when she doesn’t have other work lined up, and she agrees to take on a job which, it’s clear, is the house where Clayton has ended up.

There’s something about that house which Alice is nervous about, although we don’t know at first what it is. And she decides, on the spur of the moment, to pretend to be someone completely different when she goes to work for him. 

It’s a good start, and the main characters are well-established from the beginning. Clearly both Alice and Clayton have secrets, and - since it’s a novel - it’s obvious that they’re going to get together in some way, once Alice’s charade is uncovered. Sure enough they find a spark of friendship, and decided to share their life stories with each other. Perhaps a tad unlikely, but Alice thinks it might be therapeutic to talk about her past to a stranger.

Clayton then does something rather underhand - it’s obvious to the reader what’s going on; but Alice doesn’t have an idea until it comes to a head much later in the book. Clayton claims he couldn’t help himself, but I sympathised entirely with Alice, even though she comes round to his point of view eventually.  

There are some quite unpleasant, somewhat caricatured people in the book who have significant (if small) roles in Alice’s past, and there are also some regrets. And there’s a delightful elderly lady known to all as George, who lives alone (other than a demanding cockerel named Percy and some hens) and speaks her mind to everyone. I liked George very much, and thought she was a good catalyst for a lot of what happens in the book.

Erica James tells a good story, even if there’s a tad too much detail for my tastes in some of the inevitable scenes of intimacy. I liked Alice very much - she’s a flawed person who has made plenty of mistakes, but she’s also generous and caring. She had quite a difficult time in her teenage years for many reasons, but has done well as an adult. 

The writing is good, and I found it quite compulsive reading at times. It’s quite a long book (nearly 450 pages in paperback) but the pace is good with plenty of action and story, and I didn’t find my mind wandering. There are some light-hearted sections which balance nicely with the poignancy of some of the past. And an entirely satisfactory, if predictable conclusion. 

Recommended if you like this kind of women’s fiction. 

Review copyright 2025 Sue's Book Reviews

Beyond Sundays (by Wayne Jacobsen)

(Amazon UK link)

It’s hard to believe that it’s almost two decades since I first came across a book by Wayne Jacobsen. It was under the semi-pseudonym of Jake Colsen, in a book he co-wrote with Dave Coleman. I haven’t been able to find other books by Dave Coleman, but managed to acquire several by Wayne Jacobson. I found them all well-written, sometimes moving, and very readable. 

So I was very pleased to be given one that I didn’t have, ‘Beyond Sundays’, for Christmas. I started reading it at the beginning of the new year, and have just finished, reading a chapter or two each day. 

As with Jacobsen’s other books, the focus is very much on our relationship with God, and how that’s what matters to us most, however we pursue it. But the main theme of this one is encapsulated in the subtitle: ‘why those who are done with the religious institutions can be a blessing for the Church.’ By ‘the Church’, he refers to the body of all believers worldwide, whether or not they are connected with a local church congregation. 

The book begins with some statistics. It was written in 2018, and at the time the author claimed that in the previous few decades, sixty-five million Americans had stopped attending a local church congregation. Just over half of them no longer identified as Christian, but thirty-one million still called themselves believers. He says that this latter group have become known as the ‘Dones’ - not a word I had previously heard in this context. He also claims that this number is nearly as many as those who still regularly attend local churches in the United States. 

I don’t know if the figures are accurate, and suspect they changed significantly in the aftermath of the Covid pandemic. But the point remains: large numbers of American Christians (and Europeans, too, in my experience) who are serious about following Jesus do not belong to a local church congregation, for a variety of reasons. This book doesn’t really cover reasons why - other books by this author look into that. Instead it looks at ‘What next?’ 

Wayne Jacobsen was himself a pastor for many years. He acknowledges that many pastors find it difficult when people leave their churches. He assigns primarily financial motives to this, and this is where I somewhat depart from his experience. The church pastors and ministers I have known seem to me to have cared about their congregations as people, on the whole. The focus on funding tended to be minimal unless there was some specific fund-raising project, or a serious lack in church finances. 

I have also never experienced the kind of coercion or control that he describes. It’s true that in some churches the pastor can imply that attending Sunday services regularly is a vital part of being a believer. But others welcome anyone, whether a regular attender or not, and don’t try to ‘guilt’ anyone into being part of their congregation. That means it’s easier for me to be loosely affiliated to a local church, taking part in some of their connected activities, and attending services around once a month. I quite like the social aspect of a church service, and the songs and liturgy; I appreciate them all the more for not going every week.

Jacobsen is mainly writing for those who feel torn apart by guilt, or who are being criticised by those who are still part of a local congregation. He makes it clear that we all have to follow our own path, and be aware of how God leads us. Some people benefit from the structure and regularity of a church service; others do not. There’s no right or wrong, as there’s no right or wrong in denominational churches. None of us is perfect, and we should accept and care for one another, regardless of what label someone chooses to use. 

I don’t know that I learned anything new from this book, although it made interesting reading. Nor did I find it as inspiring as some of the author’s previous books. But perhaps that’s because I’m more confident and comfortable in the role as a ‘mostly done’. And it’s a useful summary of the author’s feelings and beliefs, with plenty of reference to Scripture as he charts some of his journey and experiences.

Recommended if you’re interested in this subject, or generally feeling as if you don’t like being part of a church congregation but still want to follow Jesus.

Review copyright 2025 Sue's Book Reviews

Mary-Lou of the Chalet School (by Elinor M Brent-Dyer)

(Amazon UK link)

In my slow meander through the lengthy ‘Chalet School’ series by Elinor M Brent-Dyer, I reached the one originally numbered 34. I last read ‘Mary-Lou of the Chalet School’ in 2015. It’s not one I remembered much; possibly I didn’t read it all that regularly when I was younger. It’s set in the winter term following on from the previous book, ‘A chalet girl in Kenya’. So it features the second winter of the new Swiss branch of the Chalet School. 

Mary-Lou is one of Brent-Dyer’s stronger characters, first introduced in ‘Three go to the Chalet School’. She’s now a senior, and is returning to school a week after the start of term. This is because her beloved grandmother has just died. Brent-Dyer doesn’t gloss over loss, and we see Mary-Lou somewhat pensive, although determined not to grieve or complain. 

When she returns to the school she discovers that there’s a new girl in her form called Jessica. And Jessica is so grumpy and miserable that she shuns any offer of help or even conversation. The other girls have rather left her to herself after initial overtures of friendship, but Mary-Lou is determined to get to the bottom of it. This is spurred on by Jo Maynard who explains privately to Mary-Lou a little of what has happened to cause Jessica to be so miserable.

It’s not a new trope; there have been many girls who arrived at the school determined to hate it (or to behave badly) but I thought this one was handled particularly well. This story-line goes alongside day-to-day events in the life of the school. We see the new prefects having meetings, and new arrangements whereby the St Mildred’s finishing school is now nearby, with a lot more coming and going. We also see glimpses into the staff room and one amusing anecdotes that almost made me chuckle aloud.

There’s an inevitable school trip, several hours in a coach each way to see Zurich and some of the sights there. Brent-Dyer liked inserting some history and geographical facts into her books under the guise of enthusiastic girls asking questions of the knowledgeable staff. I didn’t find these chapters particularly interesting, so skimmed them; for once, there are no ‘incidents’ to enliven the trip. 

In a sense this is a run-of-the-mill Chalet School book, with many references to things in earlier books, and repeats of previous ideas (such as a sheets-and-pillowcases party, and a visit from St Nicholas). But it does have a distinct storyline running alongside it, which is resolved well. It also has a temporary shortage of some food products during an extensive storm. 

However there’s no Christmas play for once, just a carol concert, which has barely a mention when it happens. There is, however, plenty of skiing and sledging, with reminders to wear dark goggles and to wrap up warmly. And a terrible accident, one which I had only vaguely remembered, when one of the girls disobeys orders about where to sledge.

This leads to a dramatic climax near the end. There’s a very moving section that almost brought tears to my eyes, when Jack Maynard talks to one of his daughters in a positive and encouraging way. He’s often portrayed as quite a harsh father, but I liked him a lot more in this book.

Worth reading if you like the series, or if you recall these books with nostalgia from your childhood. They were originally written for teenage girls, but I doubt if most of today’s teens would have much interest in such tame stories. However those who like series such as Enid Blyton’s ‘Malory Towers’ and ‘St Clare’s’ when they’re younger might well want to move on to ‘Chalet School’ at some point. 

Unfortunately most of the hardbacks are very hard to find (and expensive) and the Armada paperback editions published in the 1970s are often abridged. I am fortunate to have acquired a hardback of ‘Mary-Lou at the Chalet School’, but understand that its paperback edition had quite a bit cut out when it was abridged. However, even the Armada versions follow the main storyline, and I’m glad they were published as they kept me reading the series regularly when I was unable to acquire full editions. In more recent years a full version has been published by Girls Gone By, but unfortunately these quickly go out of print, and are often very expensive second-hand.

Review copyright 2025 Sue's Book Reviews

The trouble with goats and sheep (by Joanna Cannon)

(Amazon UK link)

I hadn’t heard of Joanna Cannon. Apparently ‘The trouble with goats and sheep’ was her debut novel, although she has written others since this was published in 2016. It was allocated for this month’s read for our local book group. We were told it was light-hearted, and a relatively easy read for a busy time of year.

I really wanted to like it. It starts so well. Ten-year-old Grace narrates; she’s an only child who thinks a lot. Sometimes her narration feels more like that of an adult, but she’s also quite naive at times, and it works well that we see the people in her street and their activities through her eyes. The book is set in the UK, somewhere in the Midlands, in the summer of 1976. People regularly complain about the heat, which is realistic for typical Brits. And I remember that summer well. 

Some of the writing, too, is almost poetic. The author uses similes and turns of phrase that work beautifully as she describes ‘The Avenue’ - a short cul-de-sac where Grace lives with her parents. There’s a useful diagram at the front of the book listing the eight houses and their occupants, although when the story starts number 14 is empty. 

One of the houses, number 11, is the only odd numbered house and it sits a little way back from the others. Its occupant is the reclusive Walter Bishop, a man who keeps to himself and who is ostracised by the other adults in the street. We soon learn that they believe he kidnapped a baby nine years earlier. We also learn that there are odd circumstances surrounding a house fire that happened when his elderly mother was staying. Unfortunately she was unable to get out. 

The novel opens with mention of someone else: Mrs Creasy, who has disappeared. Margaret Creasy lives at number 8 with her husband John, who is somewhat obsessive-compulsive. He’s disturbed that she has gone but certain she is alive. Every day he meets the bus at the end of the avenue, in case she’s arriving back. 

Grace has a friend called Tilly, who has some unspecified illness that makes her frail. Something to do with her blood, but we never learn what it is. Tilly follows Grace around, and they decide they’re going to do some investigating. They want to find clues about Mrs Creasy’s disappearance. And they also want to find God…

The story has so much potential, with supposedly quirky characters, but unfortunately they all seem rather two-dimensional. I was glad of the map because it reminded me who was whom and which couples went together - and it’s not as if it’s a huge cast. By the end I could remember most of them. There’s ‘thin Brian’ (who is 43) and his hypochondriac mother May, for instance. There’s Mr Forbes who’s rather a bully, and treats his wife Dorothy as if she’s a not very intelligent servant. He goes off to the pub leaving her with lengthy lists, assuring her that unless she writes everything down she won’t remember what to do. If her list runs out, he adds more to it. 

Grace’s parents are called Sylvia and Derek but they don’t have much of a part in the novel, other than as part of Grace’s home. And there’s a single mother called Sheila who has two children: 16-year-old Lisa and the much younger Keithie. I had to check the list for the final resident - Eric Lamb. He lives alone after his wife died, but he feels like an extremely shadowy character, even more so than the others. Then there’s a lady who doesn’t live in the avenue who sometimes looks after Grace and Tilly. And the vicar. 

The book moves slowly forward in time in July 1976, with a few flashback sections in 1967 when the events that everyone whispers about actually happened. It’s nicely done and works well, with most of the same people. It turns out that most of them have secrets of some kind which come to light during the course of the book, although some of them are not really relevant to the story. 

I was also mystified as to why another couple was introduced late in the book, moving into the empty house. They're a couple of Indian origin who have moved from Birmingham. They're good humoured and friendly, but are met with a barrage of tactless questions from people who are remarkably narrow-minded and insist on stereotyping them. They don't seem to have any part in the plot. 

And that's really my problem with this book. I’m not sure what the story is. It seems like it might be a whodunit, but nothing is ever uncovered. It becomes a bit slow-moving in the middle; perhaps this reflects the torpor that accompanied the summer of 1976. But it meant that I couldn’t read more than a few chapters at a time without my mind wandering. At the start I was eager to know what had happened to Mrs Creasy at first… by the end I didn’t much care. Which is just as well, as we never do learn why she left or where she went. 

There’s a theme that comes up more than once, about not being judgemental. Walter is constantly judged and condemned by his neighbours, although he continues to live there - and it’s clear that those judging him are themselves full of secrets that they don’t want to be uncovered. But it all feels a bit forced, with a bizarre section towards the end where Tilly thinks she sees Jesus in an oil stain on a large drainpipe. She manages to convince everyone in the street that it really is Jesus although not everyone agrees. 

The message about God being everywhere is mentioned many times, as is the idea that people are not divided into goats and sheep, but that everyone has some good and some bad in them. And there are lots of realistic references to things we took for granted in the mid-1970s so it’s good from a social history point of view. Indeed, there’s lots to like about this book...

And yet, I came away from it feeling as if I didn’t care about any of the people. I'm not going to remember any of them in a few days' time. I didn’t really know what the point of the book was, and I was (in a low-key way) disappointed not to know what actually happened to Mrs Creasy. 

However, don’t necessarily trust me on this. Reviews elsewhere are mostly very positive. As a study in 1970s suburban England with beautiful turns of phrase, it does a good job. But, personally, I prefer three-dimensional characters and more of a resolution. 

Review copyright 2025 Sue's Book Reviews

Stress family Robinson (by Adrian Plass)

(Amazon UK link)

Since I had decided to re-read Adrian Plass’s fictional books, I turned to the ones I hadn’t read for the longest time. I had remembered the first ‘Stress Family Robinson’ book as quite light-weight, not one of my favourites but still a good read. I was a little shocked to discover that I last read it in 2010. I had not realised it was such a long time ago; more than time to re-read. 

I knew that the story revolved around the Robinson family, although I had forgotten their names. Mike is the father. He’s kind, and works as an excellent headmaster. He also likes a lot of structure and organisation, although he’s better at coming up with plans than keeping to them. Mike’s wife Kathy is much more emotional, and usually reacts before thinking about the consequences of her words spoken in anger. 

They have three children. Jack is nineteen, a likeable young man who is trying to discover who he really is, though he still lives at home. Mark is fourteen, and a typical grumpy, rude teenager who often causes Kathy to feel distraught. Then there’s six-year-old Felicity, who is a delight, beloved by them all. 

The story is narrated by their friend who is known to all as Dip. This nickname is explained in the book. She is very close to all the Robinsons, who fulfil some of the deep yearnings she mostly keeps inside. She has never married, and at fifty has realised that she won’t ever be a mother. But she wishes that she could. Dip, as she tells us at the beginning, is fifty - but not inside. And Mike is in his mid-forties, so not much younger, although the first time I read this book, I thought of Mike and Kathy as youngish, and Dip as elderly.

The last time I read this, I was the same age as Dip, and found I could relate to her quite well. This time I’m fourteen years older than she is, which is rather a shock to realise, although - like Dip - I don’t feel it. Unlike her I have a husband, two sons and, since I last read this, two grandchildren. But I still like and empathise with Dip in her need for privacy, her unwillingness to reveal too much about herself, and her wish to help with calming down arguments. She’s diplomatic and very kind.

We first meet the family in the chaos of trying to get ready to travel to the airport for a holiday in the United States. Dip is going to look after their house and some stick insects, and offers to do some tidying and cleaning after they have left. So we see the ‘packing arguments’ that happen every time the family goes away, and also learn how the stick insects were acquired. Dip tells the story while digressing regularly into the past, explaining situations or telling anecdotes. And it works very well.

Shortly after the family leaves - at last! - Dip answers the phone and finds herself in a remarkably difficult situation. She doesn’t immediately respond honestly, and is terrified of causing offence to someone in her church who is very touchy, and thinks nobody likes him. She tries to figure out what she can say that will minimise the hurt, then a neighbour points out that she would be lying…

I found myself quickly involved in the story, much of which I had forgotten. When I read the chapter about Felicity’s sports day, I did recall the ending but it still brought a tear to my eyes. And I found a lot of it very moving. I don’t know if this is because, the older I get, the more I appreciate family life and also realise just how pointless many arguments are. 

There’s a Christian thread to the book, of course, but as ever Adrian Plass keeps it quite low key, and certainly doesn’t try to imply that the church or Christians in general are wonderful. Kathy and Mike are followers of Jesus who make a lot of mistakes. One of their sons has not been to church for some time although they don’t really know where he stands, faith-wise. Their younger son is still expected to attend, but is becoming more and more resentful. 

I don’t think there’s anything particularly deep in the book; there’s some gentle humour, though nothing that made me chuckle. Some of the characters are perhaps a tad caricatured, and yet the things they say and their feelings seem all too real. I thoroughly enjoyed re-reading ‘Stress family Robinson’, and am looking forward already to re-reading the sequel in a few weeks’ time.

Review copyright 2025 Sue's Book Reviews