Chinongwa Reviewed

Ruth Hartley Storytelling, Book Launch, Colonialism, History, Reading, Writing Process, ZimbabweLeave a Comment

Chinongwa by Lucy Mushita is a timeless story. It is beautifully written and an easy fluent read. An extraordinary book This is quite a statement to make about the story of a skinny, snotty nine-year-old girl child called Chinongwa who lives in a remote village in Zimbabwe as her family become subject to colonialism in the early 1900s. Fundamentally, however, […]

Poetry and people and the place of women

Ruth Hartley Storytelling, Books by Ruth Hartley, Creative Writing, Creativity, Feminism, Imagination, Poetry, Songs, The Spiral-Bound Notebooks, Writing Process2 Comments

Poets are an elite species Where did the idea come that poets are a separate kind of human that is more aesthetically refined, sensitive, better educated and therefore part of an elite? Where did the idea come from that we can’t sing unless taught how to do it? Is this why some of us avoid trying to write poetry and […]

Goodreads, dry gardens, and a visit from Trinity

Ruth Hartley Storytelling, Children's Stories, Promotion, Writing Process, Zambia4 Comments

A delightful visitor – the best of my readers and reviewers I had an unexpected and delightful visit yesterday from Trinity. She arrived holding my book Dust and Rain. She is busy reading it and wanted to ask me some questions. Let me tell you that this is one of the best things that can happen to a writer. We […]

The fateful story of becoming the author of books

Ruth Hartley Storytelling, Hamera and Hartley, Writing Process, Zambia4 Comments

No simple way to become a writer It’s never simply a question of sitting down to write a story. First, you need money, food, a room of your own and time alone.  If any writers have all those things without also having paid employment, I haven’t met them yet. You also need to learn your craft, to practise it and […]

Oak Apples, Ink and Writing

Ruth HartleySouthern Africa, Writing Process4 Comments

Walking to the river ‘Look! ‘I said as John and I walked to the river. ‘Oak apples!’ I stopped surprised at myself. ‘How do I know that’s what they are? How did I recognise them?’ I’m not English, I haven’t ever lived in the English countryside and I haven’t spent that many years in Europe. Where did that piece of […]