Blog: olgaswan.blogspot.com. Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/author/olgaswan Twitter: @olgaolgaswan FB: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100009512231796 Instagram: olgaswan8459 https://linktr.ee/OlgaSwan
For those of you who have tried to buy my back list books:
Because my previous publishers have now closed, I am currently getting them refreshed and republished with a new publisher.
More news on this soon. Thank you for your patience.
Love Olga
𝗢𝗹𝗴𝗮 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗲𝘀 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗕𝗿𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗶𝗲 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗲
10.04.2026
Unlike Manchester and London, the Jewish community of Birmingham is “very tiny”, according to one of its members.
But, Olga Swan added, it is one with a proud history and a community which has produced doctors, entertainers and cinema pioneers, such as Oscar Deutsch — the founder of the Odeon cinema chain.
Olga’s new book And the Walls Sang (The Book Guild, £10.99), which will be published on May 28, explores the rise of the Birmingham Jewish community through the lens of the Grade II*-listed Singers Hill Synagogue.
From the early Jewish families of the 17th century to the industrious artisans and entrepreneurs of the Victorian era, the book uncovers a world of tailors, jewellers, cinema pioneers and renowned professionals who helped to shape the city’s character.
Olga, who uses a nom de plume and is a member of Singers Hill, said: “My rationale in writing it is to show that it was never ‘just a building’ — as some detractors might say — but a catalyst which changed lives for the better during each of the eras covered.
“The book also gives a specific history of parts of Birmingham which will never exist again.
“In each chapter I have conflated stories of local Jewish people who were involved with Singers Hill Synagogue since before its inception in 1856 to the present day.”
Those stories include her Lithuanian-born paternal grandfather, a tailor who found work in the UK’s second city.
Olga explained: “The first history we have of Jewish people in this area was around the mid-1700s.
“They discovered that in this town, Birmingham, they could trade without anybody stopping them, so they all moved there.
“Eventually, by Victorian times, Jews were living in a load of what we call back-to-back houses, I imagine somewhat like those you see on Coronation Street.”
Olga, who has written 14 books, has a BA Hons in humanities, and majored in English language and literature.
For many years she worked at the University of Birmingham, following which she spent 12 years living in south-west France with her husband, before they returned to Birmingham in 2017.
Among those well-known Jews Olga writes about in her book are tailor to the stars Harry Cohen, light music composer Joseph Engleman, film producer Sir Michael Balcon, who led Ealing Studios and whose grandson is the legendary actor Daniel Day-Lewis, the Salberg family, which ran Birmingham’s The Alexandra Theatre, Sol Levy, who built its Scala Theatre and, of course, Deutsch, the son of Polish and Hungarian immigrants, who created the Odeon cinema chain and was a former president of Singers Hill.
Raised in Birmingham, 78-year-old Olga did not encounter much antisemitism.
She explained: “My father was in the army and both he and my mother grew up in a way where they didn’t like to say what their religion was.
“My father always liked to quote Queen Esther, saying that he never denied what he was, but that he didn’t need to shout it from the rooftops, either.
“He was fearful that, as we are now, but for different reasons.
“I went to the local school where, when they were doing carols and the Christmas stuff, I walked into another room while that was happening.
“I didn’t tell anybody why, that’s just what I did.
“In the morning assembly, when they were all singing the hymns, I stood there and listened to it all.
“Most people probably wouldn’t have known that I was Jewish, whereas my father spoke fluent Yiddish.
“That is why this book is all about memory and history, because to me, unless you know the history, you don’t know who you are today.”
Over the decades, there has been an influx of South Asian people into Birmingham, Muslims in particular.
And tensions between them and the local and wider Jewish communities came to the fore in November when Maccabi Tel Aviv supporters were banned from attending the club’s UEFA Europa League game at Aston Villa.
Olga recalled: “There’s a majority of Muslim people, particularly living around the Villa Park area.
“And rather than confront that, the police decided, ‘let’s not annoy them’.
“Of course, this kind of philosophy annoyed us, the Jewish people, very much because that is not really how you should police things.
“I have not felt threatened as a Jew in Birmingham too much, but when we go to shul — which is every Shabbat, if we can — it is obvious that there are police everywhere and CST.
“As far as I know, no other faith in this area has to have that, only us.
“We haven’t done anything wrong, and yet we have to have all this police protection, so they must know the threat is there.”
The mother of two was fulsome in her praise of Singers Hill minister, Rabbi Yossi Jacobs and his wife, Rachel.
Olga beamed: “He has revolutionised the community here and he is absolutely wonderful.
“He uses modern technology and social media to liaise with the community, which no other rabbi in that shul has ever done.
“His wife comes from LA, and she is very glamorous — she has shown that if you’re an Orthodox rebbetzen, you don’t have to be dowdy.
“They are both so approachable and modern, yet they do that while retaining the Orthodoxy.”
She estimated that the current Jewish community in Birmingham is around 2,000, but is hopeful for its future.
Olga added: “Even though we’re a small community, we’d like to think we could attract people, maybe Londoners or Mancunians, where the houses are probably too expensive.
“In my father’s day, and in Victorian times, there was standing room only at Singers Hill during the High Holy Days.
“They had to book a seat, which shows you how many there were.”
I have just signed a book contract with The Book Guild!
It’s for a narrative non-fiction book called And The Walls Sang.
Publication date: 28 May 2026.
What’s it about?
Here’s the back page blurb:
Local history as you’ve never read before!
From the mid-1700s to the present day, a colourful microcosm of Jewish life emerged in Birmingham, England’s second city. From a time of back-to-back houses, destitution and sweatshops, came artisans in tailoring, cap and boot making, jewellery etc plus world-renowned physicians, solicitors and many more, including local Jewish pioneers of such cinemas as the Odeon. In 1856 a beautiful Grade II* listed synagogue was built in the centre of Birmingham, an edifice which acted as a catalyst, honing all their lives.
Read about how the author’s grandfather arrived in Birmingham from Eastern Europe, how he met and married his wife in Singers Hill synagogue, and how he too became a tailor. Find out what it was like as a child attending the strict Victorian Hebrew School in Birmingham.
More news as it happens.
I will post the book cover image as soon as it’s agreed.
Hotel Sroubek,
Prague
Two Englishmen were standing at the window, overlooking the centre of Prague. The hotel room was furnished in the standard way, bare of all essentials except for the narrow bed, a small table, chest of drawers and a writing desk. A single, black telephone stood menacingly on the bedside table, its brown thick cables twisted together in a confused state of readiness for when the call would come.
One man was smoking, sporadically flicking ash into a cheap, metal ashtray provided by the hotel, as he looked unseeingly out of the small, sash window. The other was of slight build, wearing a striped tie at his throat, and studiously puffing away at a pipe. Every so often, he would remove the pipe from between his lips, search for a crumpled pack of tobacco in his jacket pocket before refilling and tamping down his pipe. His black-framed spectacles gave him a studious look, belying the fierce intelligence lurking behind the thick, myopic lenses.
Both men were agitated, every so often walking this way and that as they explored every avenue available to them in this foreign country.
Outside was bleak, great flurries of snow lying heaped on the roofs of neighbouring buildings. Down below at street level, a few passers-by hurried along, heads bent against the elements and the rigours of life.
Nicholas Winton and his friend Martin Blake had been friends for decades. Both had grown up politically motivated by the many injustices in the world, but had been drawn together also by many shared interests. They both loved skiing and had enjoyed many winter holidays together, indulging in their favourite sports. As such, they were very much of like mind.
“It’s clear that Chamberlain’s stance at Munich was a complete disaster for the world,” said Martin.
Winton concurred. “Yes. Instead of appeasing Hitler by handing him the Sudetenland on a plate, it’s encouraged his aggression even more. Now, I fear for the whole of Europe, including Great Britain. Unless something is done, nothing will stand in his way.”
Both men stood silent, gloomily surveying the scene out of the window, the intermittent swirls of snow and ice matching the vagaries of the political storm brewing and building all around them.
Turning his thoughts to the plight of the many local people in Prague who were suffering from the political climate, Winton recognised the achievements of his friend. He already knew that Martin was a special emissary for the British Committee for Refugees from Czechoslovakia, known as BCRC. “What plans do you have for these people?” asked Nicky, as he liked to be called by his friends.
Martin turned away from the window. “Well, the brief from my committee is to try to get as many adults who are in the greatest danger, out of the country as possible. But, as you know my friend, it won’t be easy. We need to somehow get each of them a permit, a job and a personal guarantor.”
Nicky scratched his head. “But what of the children, Martin? What can we do for all those innocents, caught up in a war they can’t possibly understand? My heart grieves for them.”
“I know, I know,” replied Martin. “Our records show that there are many children whose parents were either forced to leave them behind, or cases where desperate parents felt unable to leave without them so sought a safe refuge for their children…”
Nicky interrupted. “Yes. That all tallies with my own findings. I know for a fact that those people who apply for a job in Britain are more likely to find success if they don’t apply as a family unit.”
Martin was thinking frantically. Both men were united in their quest for a solution, but somehow the question of the defenceless children had risen higher up the agenda.
Since the infamous Munich agreement had been signed three months earlier by Great Britain, Italy, France and, of course, Germany, the BCRC had opened an office right there in Prague. Turning to Nicholas, Martin promised to contact the very next day his colleague Doreen, who headed the committee’s office. Quickly, he described Doreen’s efforts to Nicholas. It was clear that Doreen was working night and day to help the adult refugees to safety as quickly as possible.
“Yes, but what of the children, Martin? What of the children?” Already, Winton’s pipe needed refilling as he searched anew for his tobacco pouch.
“Well, I know there are a few people who are trying to help them, but as far as I know there’s no-one drawing all the threads together to make the kind of difference we need,” replied Martin.
Listening to all this, and watching the night sky darken still further, Winton came to a decision.
“Well, if no-one else is going to do it, it had better be me.”
Martin turned. “Do you realise what you’d be taking on, Nicky? You’d be the focus for the hopes of thousands of parents.”
Winton smiled, feeling a surge of adrenalin as it fired his belly and flooded every ounce of his being. He thought back to his own childhood where he’d always been sympathetic to anyone in trouble. Even back then, he remembered the sneers from other boys, who thought it was somehow less manly to show compassion for others. He’d always shrugged the other boys off, nevertheless. His innate self-confidence enabled him to be adventurous and to always attempt the impossible by any ways and means available to him. So it was now, as he watched his friend nervously smoothing flicks of hair away from his creased brow. He was only twenty-nine, fortunate to be a British stockbroker. His parents were of German Jewish descent. Winton realised how fortunate he, himself, had been in life. He felt that the least he could do would be to help others who were suffering through no fault of their own. There and then he decided he was going to give it his best shot.
The plan that was forming in Nicholas’s head seemed simple enough, but in truth was very dangerous. “Don’t you see, Martin?” he told his friend. “To be successful in this world, you have to have a mission that overrides all others. You must think large, my friend, and be as positive as humanly possible.”
Martin sat on the edge of the bed, watching Nicky snatch a small hotel notepad from the bedside table and jot down some indecipherable scribble. Outside, a sudden flurry pushed a ton of snow off the hotel roof to land in an enormous heap on the silent pavement below. It was an avalanche of predestined proportions, heralding something amazing.
“So, my foolish friend. I take it your answer is yes?”
……
To buy, click cover image on the right.
New year, new novel.
📘🇨🇿𝗖𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗥𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗔𝗟. 🇨🇿📘
SpellBound Books 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗳𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮 𝗴𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗲𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗮𝗹 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂 .
𝗪𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗯𝗹𝘂𝗿𝗯 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝗠𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝗣𝗿𝗮𝗴𝘂𝗲 𝗯𝘆 𝗢𝗹𝗴𝗮 𝗦𝘄𝗮𝗻.
𝗢𝘂𝘁 𝟭𝟴𝘁𝗵 𝗝𝗮𝗻𝘂𝗮𝗿𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝘃𝗮𝗶𝗹𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗽𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗻𝗼𝘄.
𝗙𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗨𝗦 𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗳 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻 𝗦𝗲𝗲𝗱𝘀, 𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝗠𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝗣𝗿𝗮𝗴𝘂𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝗵𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝗮𝗴𝗮 𝗯𝘆 𝗢𝗹𝗴𝗮 𝗦𝘄𝗮𝗻.
𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗹-𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗼 𝗡𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗮𝘀 𝗪𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼𝗻 𝘀𝗮𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗶𝘅-𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀-𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝗟𝗶𝗹𝗮 𝗶𝗻 𝟭𝟵𝟯𝟵 𝗣𝗿𝗮𝗴𝘂𝗲, 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗻 𝗮 𝗻𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲-𝘄𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗷𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝗟𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗻 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁.
𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗟𝗶𝗹𝗮’𝘀 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗘𝗻𝗴𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗺𝗼𝗼𝘁𝗵.
Follow her journey from childhood angst in Prague, her amazing rescue, followed by a lifetime of stress as a Jewish immigrant growing up in Birmingham.
As she matures, along comes wonderful Patrick, bringing the sunshine and laughter of Trinidad into her life, but was he the right man for her?
At ninety-years-old, Lila at last finds success in London as a novelist, but it has come at an enormous cost to her health, self-belief and her decades-long fight against adversity. She realises, though, that each part of her life had not been diminished by new beginnings, merely reinforced. But suddenly love blooms again for Lila alongside a new quest. She simply has to find the answer to the mysterious puzzle about her late father’s identity, even though her family’s Czech records have long gone.
A wondrous saga, which takes the reader from wartime Prague, to post-war Birmingham, and finally to Jerusalem.
#preordernow #historicalfiction
My home city of Birmingham, run by a Labour Council, has declared itself bankrupt. The Council leader has apologised to the city but has not resigned. This whole situation highlights the essential difference between the two opposing Parties. Labour has always seen itself as the ‘nice’ Party, championing those in need, and dubbing the Tories as ‘nasty’. The current Labour leader, Sir Keir Starmer, is seen as a non-charismatic, middle of the road manager, dubbed ‘Mr Hindsight’ because he spends more time responding to the already-happened rather than proposing radical, innovative policies. Rishi Sunak, the PM (like every other country in the world) has the unenviable task of overseeing the inevitable economic fallout following the pandemic shut down of the whole country. But, as we rush headlong to the next General Election, what do we see? Labour is promising the earth, e.g. a childcare revolution but, like Birmingham City Council, has absolutely no idea of how they’re going to fund it. And the Tories, like accountants everywhere, are desperate to balance the books. As the ST put it, parodying Blair “things can only get bitter”.
The G20 leaders are in India but their individual competence is a lottery. In the US, to stand for president requires lots of money. In the UK, anyone can choose to go into politics but with little assessment. The job of prime minister/president is the most important in the land, so it’s crucial we choose the right contenders. Nothing to do with personality, all to do with ability. Each election candidate should first be tested via a vigorous educational assessment, at least degree level attainment, including comprehensive, proven political knowledge not just of the candidate’s own country but globally too. Vocal skills and quick thinking should also be tested alongside a sound psychological assessment. These attributes should also be mandatory for each member of the leader’s Cabinet/team. The current Shadow Labour deputy leader in the UK has no school qualifications at all! She should not be allowed into politics. As a writer, I have written about the lead up to the last war in Germany, France, Poland, Austria and China, with another similar work in progress. So many past leaders were psychologically deranged, causing the deaths of millions. If we are to avoid another world war, we must choose more able leaders!
Tomorrow, it will be 54 years since I gave birth to our beautiful daughter. The 60’s teenage revolution was still in full swing. The Times They Were A’Changing, including my life. Elvis, The Rolling Stones and Marvin Gaye were in the charts, and there I was with a beautiful baby to nurture. There was no Google to consult in those days, nor extensive family support to advise and guide me, just a local welfare clinic. Yet, over those crucial early years of motherhood, somehow I survived. At four years old, when she first came home from infants’ school with a tin containing words to learn, I helped and guided her, glorying with her as she successively over-achieved at every stage. At 10, a year early, she passed for the exclusive King Edwards High School, followed at 18 by acceptance to read languages at St Andrews University. Today she’s Vice President of a big insurance company on Park Avenue, New York, and was a recent finalist in New England’s Funniest Comedian contest. Still over-achieving. I am a very proud mother. Happy Birthday Julie.
Here in the UK there’s been a high-profile case about a young nurse who’s been convicted of killing seven new-borns, over a 4 year period, on the neo-natal unit of a Chester hospital. It wasn’t so much about the baby deaths - terrible as those were - but of how the hospital managers supported the nurse over the whole period. At one point, they even forced the accusing doctors to send her a letter of apology for their evidential accusations, and to offer the nurse a better job in a top children’s hospital in London. The crux of the matter is that there’s a culture in our hospitals and other top institutions of protecting their integrity and reputation at all costs. Looking back at my own life, I’ve noticed the same protectionism in many of my former workplaces but especially our universities. Nothing must rock the boat of the establishment! Something needs to be done to bring out the truth in this world, despite the opinions of those in exalted positions, who strive to sustain their own positions no matter what. Feel a book coming on….
Did you read about that elderly couple’s nightmare with budget airline Ryanair? It’s a symptom of today’s digital world. The airline’s booking system was so complicated, the couple downloaded the return boarding pass by mistake. At check in, the airline said unless they paid £110, staff wouldn’t print their correct outward boarding pass! But at least the couple had managed the rest of the online booking system. It made me think of my late brother who never learned IT, didn’t possess a laptop or mobile phone, or even possess any credit or debit cards. How would he have got on in today’s world where human interractions (like physical banks, train ticket offices, etc) are being phased out? So many film franchises today - I’m thinking Game of Thrones, Avatar etc - and practically every TV ad have cartoon-like people and childish voiceovers - all aimed at the young. So, as hinted at last week, I decided to write my 14th book, but this time from the point of view of a very old person. There are a lot of us out there, a neglected commodity. Time to redress the balance.
Watching the Lionnesses overcome all odds to win their game against Columbia yesterday, I thought how young they all were. Youth is such a fleeting thing. Tomorrow, a fitter plans to arrive chez nous to take up our small landing carpet and replace it with Karndean flooring. The carpet had been irretrievably stained by our old dogs and, despite my valiant efforts with a sure-fire mix of bicarb and white vinegar, the wet stains were now too ingrained to be removed. The fitter is an amazing 73, benefitting from decades of work experience, and still working. As a writer, it made me realise there was one topic that, in my previous 14 books, I hadn’t yet covered: a story from the perspective of someone very old. I’m one chapter in so far, my old head buzzing with ideas. So, to all you young people out there, remember the words of Charles Aznavour. Yesterday When I Was Young, the taste of life was sweet as rain among my tongue. I treated life as if it were a game and never saw the emptiness beyond…… So, young footballers everywhere. Enjoy your successes while you can. Here today, gone tomorrow. Come On England!
When I started writing Pensioners in Paradis, the opening pages centred on a typical English shopping street, with its mix of vehicles and hordes of shoppers providing a pot pourri of life itself. Today, there have been so many essential urban infrastructure changes in the name of climate change, our local and city centre shopping streets are unrecognisable. Side roads deliberately blocked off, access impeded and vehicle owners hounded out of existence - effectively causing all those lovely department stores and small shops to close due to lack of shoppers. What they have done is channel shoppers away from the wonderful shopping experiences of yesteryear towards the anodyne anonymity of lonely, online purchases. No joy, no shopping pleasure, just functional ordering/receiving - ironically adding yet more delivery vans onto our closed off roads. Take a look at all the happy shoppers in this photo of Birmingham city centre in the ‘50s. Please can we go back? Simple really. Stop emission zones (which only push traffic jams to another nearby road), reduce shop business rates to encourage more traders, restore easy access and provide ample nearby free parking for shoppers. Only then can we all really live again. Voila!
When we moved back to the UK in 2017, the house we bought was necessarily purchased off-plan (whilst we were still in France), so its exact location in the Birmingham area was a fluke. However, in light of this week’s findings by climate scientists, its location is perfect. A new study, published on Tuesday in the Journal Nature, has found that the Atlantic Gulf Stream might collapse by 2025! The previously-warm waters could not only plunge the UK and the US eastern seaboard into another ice-age, it would cause sea levels to rise alarmingly. There’s no doubt that climate change is happening, just like 2.4 million years ago when the earth’s climate repeatedly changed between very cold periods and very warm periods - just as it’s predicted now. But man wasn’t around all that time ago, so it must have been caused by a regular global shift. Back in the ‘50s I remember much colder winters, very heavy pollution and smog. Today the air is noticeably much cleaner here, yet ironically we are told it’s much worse. And me, the innate pessimist? I’m breathing a sigh of relief. Our house is on high ground (away from flood risk) and in the Midlands - far away from sea surges. And the fluctuating temperatures? Central heating and air-con. Sorted.
Fifty-six years ago today, we got married. In 1967 the world was a very different place. As a girl I wasn’t expected to go to university and was encouraged to learn shorthand and typing so that I could go into the traditional role of secretary to a man. Later, I followed all the ‘rules’: when we got married very young, as normal, I was expected to leave work, then save for a deposit on a house, then have the ‘correct’ number of children - two. Back then, no-one would have dreamt of changing that order, and woe betide any girl getting pregnant outside of marriage. Such girls were shunned by society and even by their own family. How different life is today for women. Yesterday’s Women’s World Cup symbolised the remarkable change in society’s attitudes. They even wear the same kit as male footballers. All sports should follow their dress code, especially beach volleyball! They’re not there to look pretty but as sportswomen.So, today, no longer must women follow ‘traditional’, subservient roles to men. It’s a lifetime away from the now-dated mindsets of 1967 - and, as a female writer in 2023, I’m grateful. But, another 4 years and we get a card from the King - some traditions die hard!
On the 15th I’ll be one of a multitude of authors from all over the country at a prestigious Book Event, in aid of Dementia UK, in the Banqueting Suite of Birmingham’s Council House. Despite being born in the city, I don’t recall ever setting foot inside this magnificent building.
Thirdly, this week I’ve self-published the revised sequel to Pensioners in Paradis. It’s called Paranoid in Paradis. For all those who enjoyed the former, you can read the first few pages of the sequel by clicking the icon on the right.
