What are novels for?

Ruth Hartley Storytelling, Books by Ruth Hartley, Imagination, Writing Process1 Comment

Ah – this was a fun coincidence. I was starting a post about my books when this article by Jacob Brogan appeared in The Washington Post. He writes about Joseph Epstein, an eminent American literary critic, who has written a book that asks if we need novels. Well – I need novels – good ones of course – and I […]

Four children alone in the Amazon Rain forest

Ruth Hartley Storytelling, Children's Stories, Climate change, Dust and Rain, Journey, Zambia3 Comments

There was good news. Four children had survived a plane crash and 40 days wandering in the Amazon jungle.They were children who had knowledge and experience of nature but they were weak and hungry when they were found. This is a profound lesson for all humans. We are human animals. We are part of nature and our survival depends on […]

A bad Mother and an African village

Ruth Hartley Storytelling, Creative Writing, Memoir, Short Stories2 Comments

Victims The media are currently running stories about victims of poor parenting. Everyone has had mothers and fathers and was parented somehow by somebody. We know ourselves through understanding our families and parents. Unquestionably there are children who are victims and who have suffered, but there are also those who survive enormous difficulties and who still manage to forgive and […]

A migrant story

Ruth Hartley Storytelling, DisplacementLeave a Comment

This is a story about doors and wages and a migrant. It ends with a death. A migrant is a person who moves from one place to another in order to find work or better living conditions. Who has never or not done that? Long ago at the start of things It was 1973. Mike and I had been one […]

The Book of Memory by Petina Gappah

Ruth HartleyColonialism, Displacement, Family, Migration, Politics, Race, Racism, Southern Africa, Zambia, Zimbabwe2 Comments

New Year in another country On New Year’s Day we fled from France across the snow-covered Pyrenees pursued by stormy winds and heavy rain. There we wandered along empty twisting roads among ruined and isolated stone villages and ancient monasteries in the  brutal mountains of Spanish Aragon. In our hotel room the television showed no news and told no stories […]