John Broughton
John began writing stories for his two children, Emily and Adam, when they had exhausted all the children’s books in the local library. The result was that six of these were published, one of them being an anthology of shorter stories. John now lives in Italy and has published two historical fiction novels for adults.
I met John and his wife, Maria, in Lincoln to discuss ‘The Purple Thread’ and ‘Wyrd of the Wolf’. Both of John’s novels are inspired by his passion for Anglo Saxon history.
John was on holiday, in Lincoln, with his wife, Maria, and was also taking the opportunity to complete some research. John offered to give me a brief tour of the cathedral before we discussed his books. I had climbed Steep Hill to reach the cathedral but was mightily impressed by the cathedral. John explained that Maria would meet us later in the coffee shop.
Jessie: It is an impressive cathedral. Did you choose to meet here because the cathedral has Anglo Saxon connections?
John: The present majestic cathedral has nothing to do with the Saxons. In the seventh century, about half a century before the setting of my third novel here in the Kingdom of Lindsey, St Paulinus, companion of Saint Augustine, founded the first Christian church. But not where the present cathedral stands, but in Bailgate, to the north-west. Archaeological evidence shows sunken-floored buildings surrounded the site.
I was in awe of John’s impressive knowledge and his incredible enthusiasm for the history. I knew that my online research would be of little use, and it was best find out more from the expert.
Jessie: What is it that particularly interests you about the cathedral?
John: As an Anglo-Saxonist, I’d love to know what lies beneath the cathedral but luckily, I’ll never get a chance to know. Since Lindsey was a sub-kingdom dominated by its powerful neighbours, it is a kind of mysterious period and anyway, much of Lincolnshire was marshland – the famous Fens.
Jessie: I know that Lincoln is the capital of his country in…..with its beautiful cathedral. Tell me little more about your books.
John: Of course, but I suggest that we visit the coffee shop in the town. My wife is in the café reading my latest book and I need to refer to it.
As we walked to the coffee shop, John engaged me in a detailed overview of the plot of his novels. He then proceeded to summarise the books for this interview.
John: The Purple Thread is about how a detail can change our lives. In this case, a letter that steals a man from his family and sends him to confront pagans, heretics and deal with saints.
Wyrd of the Wolf is a story of love and betrayal in the context of the struggle between emerging kingships and in particular the pagan Caedwalla who becomes the patron saint of (reformed) serial killers!
Maria was sipping her espresso while absorbed in the book. She smiled at John and handed over the paperback. I noticed that she removed another copy of the book from her handbag.
Jessie: I realise that you had some success writing stories for children. How have your recent books been received by the reviewers?
John frowned as he scrolled through emails on his phone. Maria reached into her handbag and retrieved a notebook with the reviews she had collected. Maria couldn’t wait to read the reviews, it was lovely to see how happy she was to celebrate her husband’s work.
Maria:
John Broughton transports his reader into the fascinating world of our islands in the 8th century. His colourful imagery creates a realistic atmosphere of life as it would have been lived in those days. His intimate knowledge of the period brings this historical novel vividly into the imagination of his readers. No detail is omitted in his colourful account of every scene. (Pronter)
This book has all the classic elements of an adventure story, danger, heroism, cunning and treachery. The author knows his period well but manages to wear his history lightly. Anglo Saxon times are called the dark ages for a reason and we get a real glimpse into this world in the wild lands of western Europe as the author takes us on a vast journey through a dystopian landscape. (Tricky Henry)
The Purple Thread is not my usual genre and, to be honest, I only started the book because I knew the author many years ago. Wow! What a great book and surprise it turned out to be; I was totally absorbed with the quality of writing, the characters & story in a period I know so little about. So many years of research must have gone into The Purple Thread, resulting in an absolute page turner. I simply couldn’t put it down. It entertained me but also made me think. (Sooz B.)
Jessie: Wow! The reviews are very positive, and I can’t wait to read the books. Can you give me an extract from the books to tempt the reader?
Maria handed over the books, she pointed to some sections she had marked with yellow post-it notes. John took the books, skimmed the text and read the passages.
John:
A careful reader will notice reference to the colour running as a thread throughout the book. In a way, it represents the Word of God and how the Church places the protagonist under psychological pressure to keep him away from his family. So I chose these lines:
‘Bemused, he shook his head, more pressing thoughts troubling his heart. The coast of his homeland dwindled to a thin purple line, every moment carrying him farther from the woman and child he loved.’
A father betroths his daughter for political reasons. She falls in love with his most dangerous enemy and a tale of tormented love and revenge unfolds. This passage reveals the protagonist’s underlying motivation:
“Aelfhere struggled to sweep aside sinister thoughts. After all, this should be a joyous occasion. His king, Arwald, had ordered him to Sussex with a score of armed men but on the outcome of their mission rode the safeguarding of the Isle.”
Jessie: How did you feel when you had finished writing your book, and did you miss any of the characters?
John: The strangest thing happened. I was moved by my protagonist’s predicament (of my own creation, it should be stressed) to the point that I had tears in my eyes. But it’s the end of the book and I don’t want to write a spoiler!
As for Wyrd, well, I regret in a way not writing a sequel because I find myself wondering what happens to Cynethryth (the female protagonist) after she returns to Wight. I suppose there’s still time but for the moment I’m busy on another novel.
Jessie: What is the last sentence written in your writer’s notebook?
John: It’s a quote copied from a fellow author’s blog. She quotes Anton Chekov “Don’t tell me the moon is shining, show me the glint of light on broken glass.’ It’s a good reminder by a great writer to show not tell.
Jessie: What is the biggest challenge for an author?
John: I don’t know, because as a relatively new writer, I’m learning all the time and it’s all a challenge. But among those I’ve faced up to now, the latest is the greatest: trying to create an anti-hero protagonist and yet make the reader empathise with him. I’m at the halfway stage of my novel and I’ll be honest, I don’t think I’m being wholly successful. But I’m relying on revising the story enough times to manage it to my satisfaction in the end.
Jessie: What is the best advice that you have received as a writer?
John: ‘The first 250000 words you write are for the bin’ (Joseph Conrad) In my case maybe more! Never give up. His first novel was rejected 19 times and he was brilliant.
Maria: Oh, John just loves to write and write. He is so happy when he is telling stories. Did he tell you the story about the emblem of this city?
I wasn’t sure if the Lincoln Imp is located in the cathedral, or in a specific place so need your help here.
John: The Lincoln imp – the symbol of the city – has been explained as a medieval mason’s practical joke. It’s to be found in the Angel Choir below the level of the angels. The legend says it was lured into the building by the sweet singing of the angels and God turned him to stone. This doesn’t explain why the angels are stone, of course!
Jessie: It has been lovely to meet you both. It is such an impressive city and I the cathedral is the most impressive I have seen. The setting of Lincoln, John’s storytelling and knowledge of history has inspired me to read the novels. Have a good journey back to Italy.
John: Sir Kenneth Clark, when pressed to choose, selected Lincoln as the most beautiful of the English cathedrals and I agree with him! The cathedral also houses one of the few original copies of the Magna Carta.
More about John…
John is sorry that he didn’t start writing for adults twenty years ago. Realistic enough to know that a writer either has time but no income or has income but no time. Incredibly impressed by the solidarity and sheer niceness of fellow indie writers.
For further details, you can visit John’s web site on www.saxonquill.com
Facebook page John Broughton – Historical Fiction Writer.
Twitter: @broughton_john
Please see all my interviews at My Guests and my blog at jessiecahalin.com
A black coach and horses arrived outside of the inn. Fortunately, there was step outside of the inn to allow me a little grace, as I entered the carriage. Alas, the handbag had not been invented. I kept my possessions in my pockets, stored my belongings in a bundle and held ‘
Sue Johnson, the author, was driving the coach and horses and I heard her call to the horse to commence the journey. We galloped at a pace through the Regency narrative; it was indeed thrilling as the characters veered of the track. Without a fortune to keep the characters on a steady road of wealth, I was in awe as they employed survival tactics of the highest order. Lucinda and Hannah, both strong and resourceful ladies, navigated their way through the perilous era – and what a brilliant journey. The ladies could not see me. I waited in the background, hoping for a twist in fate to keep them safe. Perhaps, I did help them along the way.
The shadow of the villain lurked, but ‘a hunger and cold gnawed his insides’, as he searched for his treasure – the lady with the ‘sapphire eyes’. Oh, how I feared for Lucinda. Despite her slight frame and pale countenance, Lucinda had the fire of the twenty first century woman. Indeed, ‘naked hostility’ shone in her ‘sapphire blue eyes’, and she recognised that her brother ‘had more choice in life’. Mentally stronger than her artist brother, John, Lucinda rejected ‘the devil on Longdon Hill’, and was not fooled when he ‘strutted out like a peacock’. Laughing at Lucinda’s perceptive, intelligent comments, I wanted to invite her into the twenty first century; but she could not see me.
I entered an inn to find ‘the air thick with the smell of smoke, old cooking and unwashed bodies. The smell was so over powering…’ But I did not dwell on the assault on my senses, as it was time to follow the pathway of the winding plot. I saw that ‘turmoil’ ‘twisted inside’ of Lucinda when faced with the devilish character. She was not hoodwinked by her suitor, and I knew I would witness the adventures of a thoroughly modern Regency lady. I returned hastily to the carriage each night to follow the plot, but drew the curtains on the ‘man on a black horse’ who was always clipping at Lucinda’s heels. I hoped Lucinda would be clever enough to outwit him, and see his ‘silhouette’ before he saw her. I pointed at a potential suitor, alas she could neither see me, nor hear my counsel.
Jessie: How did you feel when you had finished writing your book, and did you miss any of the characters?
Historical novelist, Rosemary Noble, is presenting an extract from her first novel entitled ‘
I am delighted to present an extract from my historical saga: ‘
I don’t know my age, about fourteen I think. I have never had a birthday. Some of us foundlings survived our childhood, but it was just luck, lots of children didn’t. We were given a cot to share, as many as ten to a cot, a few patched second-hand clothes, a morsel of food, if it could be called that; much worse than in here it was.
I’m probably a frustrated historian but I’m making up for it now.
Finally, I felt the uneven cobbles beneath my feet, and the heels of my boots struggled to grip the ground, it was obvious that I had reached the famous medieval street. I reached a building that would have looked at home in a museum. Outside the building was painted black and the window reminded me of a shop one would imagine in a Dickensian novel. My imagination had taken me to the wrong era, but having researched John’s book, my mind was full of history. Instantly, John greeted me with his warm smile and welcoming manner. He was looking very relaxed in his cords and checked shirt.
John: Ah yes, I started to research my Family Tree fifty years ago. I was lucky to find transcribed letters from my great, great grandfather on one side of the family, and on the other I found that my great great grandmother was related to the Rochforts of Belvedere, in Ireland. I had to research this treasure and along the way, I came across some juicy relatives – and a story that was crying out to be told.
Jessie: Why should I keep your book in my handbag?
Anne Allen
Having departed from a grey, rainy day in London, it was a thrill to arrive in Guernsey. A blue sky greeted me in Guernsey, and the cool breeze was refreshing. A taxi took me to the quaint St Peter’s Port. I met Anne at 
Anne: ‘
“To sum up, this is a wonderful novel, with tons of pace where pace is needed, and a setting so lovingly described, it is almost a character in the book. I am happy to recommend this story, in fact, all of them, to anybody who enjoys a well-plotted mystery populated with convincing and always credible characters.” A ‘Wishing Shelf’ Book Review
Anne: Relieved – and exhausted! It had taken me months longer than anticipated to finish but I was pleased with the result. Characters do get under your skin and I miss Fiona and Michael in particular. The joy of writing books in a series is that characters can pop up again, so it might be au revoir not goodbye.
Popular author, Anne Allen, released ‘
Dear Readers,
Teresa Bichard and her baby are sent by her beloved husband, Leo, to England as the Germans draw closer to Guernsey. Days later they invade…
‘I am a huge fan of Anne Allen’s Guernsey series in which various locations are lovingly described. With the ‘suicide’ of her twin brother, this book has an orally different feel as Fiona tries to get to the bottom of it. With an undiscovered Renoir and links to WW2 this book has a much darker feel to it.’ Julie Ryan
Annabel Fielding
Annabel arrived at my Chat Room in the middle of September. The autumnal feeling was already in the atmosphere, and I was tempted to light a fire. Annabel was wearing black jeans and a loose blue blouse, clearly indicating that she is not yet prepared to say a decisive farewell to summer. Her handbag was slightly bulky – spacious enough to fit in all the possible gadgets and tools of trade, including, perhaps, an odd typewriter.
Jessie: The front cover of your debut novel looks intriguing. Tell me more about your book. 
Jessie: Why should I keep your book in my handbag?
Jaya was born in a place where ‘the tiny mauve and yellow flowers danced in the breeze as the snowy summits of Pin Panjal meditated in the morning sun.’ Despite the beauty and implied freedom and romance of the landscape, the women are inhibited by their culture and the ugly politics of war torn Kashmir. Jaya’s gentle, intelligent observations give an insight into her world as a Kashmiri girl. Her mother asserts ‘you’re a girl’ and believes that ‘love rides on reason, not romance.’ It is clear Jaya is destined to search beyond this and it is impossible not to admire her questioning.
Jaya wishes on a ‘shooting star’ and the author maps out Jaya’s destiny beautifully. The novel explores how the independent, free spirited mind can find flight if given the right opportunities. But the opportunities must be accompanied with an inquiring mind. Jaya’s entrapment in Delhi is as stifling as the intense heat which ‘pressed down on city life like a giant hand.’ Her value, as a potential bride, diminishes once her parents have been killed. She will find a way to escape a doomed arranged marriage – she is born to fight.
Tahir never examines his own world as he is too caught up in the conflict and grudges. The natural ebb and flow of the Jaya’s narrative is enchanting while we never get inside of Tahir’s confused, inhibited mind. The tale of two continents explores cultural difference: it is a wonderful book of contrasts. For instance, the peaceful setting Kashmir Valley translates ‘paradise on earth’ yet it conceals conflict. Jaya questions: ‘How could the landscape be beautiful when Alistair was suffering?’ Like Jaya, one must look beneath the surface.
This novel teaches us to have a respect and understanding of other cultures but we need the freedom to ask questions and pursue our ambition: above all, everyone needs to be loved. ‘Azadi’ (freedom) is a state of mind influenced by opportunities, the people we meet and the strength to ask pertinent questions.
As if by magic, I am presenting ‘
It’s a story of magic rituals and rivalry in a 16th century Italian town.
Antonius watched the blue and amber flames as they crackled upwards, repeating the same patterns into infinity. He felt his body move to the rhythms, and realised they all moved in tandem around the fire. The music, the flames, and the night were as much a part of them as the blood coursing through their veins. The pace quickened and they followed, twisting and turning with fluidity.
His nose twitched as their combined scent wafted towards him—sage, elderflower, cloves, and others. Three crystals were then released into the fire—purple, white, and gold. Several loud cracks erupted into the air and multi-coloured sparks flew, with a hiss and a whine. In a low voice Savinus chanted. It was a mellifluous language he had heard during the rituals at the blue cave. He spread his arms in an outward motion, as if clearing away smoke.
Tuscan Roots
I stopped at the mill ‘hidden in the folds of the Alps of the Moon, where the sun sets from the jewel red skies behind misted blue peaks.’ Anna’s mother once lived in a mill, and she explains ‘…the old building in ruins, crumbling into nothing seems to mirror what I am leaning of Mamma’s past.’ The Mill is ‘fragile’ and is a symbol of lost history and lost dreams that could be rekindled by the new generation. Sitting on the steps to read the letters and diaries, I sensed the ‘breeze that dances on the river’. Listening to the ‘sound of the river and distant sheep bells’, I could feel the loneliness of Ines. I am sure I heard the voices of the German soldiers who would have bathed there, and the whispers of the POWs and partisans hidden in the mountains.
I was completely spellbound by the characters and the clever structure of this novel. ‘
This novel evokes the senses and leaves the reader firmly fixed in Tuscany. Not the tourist’s Italy, but rural, down to earth Italy – ‘this landscape feels lived in’, and the author breathes life into ‘the ghosts from the past’. The story of the POW and partisans provide another dimension to this story, and I was impressed with how this was skilfully woven into the story.
On top of the shift Alex wears stays. Okay, so they’re not as bad as those sported by Scarlett O’Hara but once they’re laced they have a somewhat inhibiting effect on her movements. Stockings in scratchy wool are rolled up the legs to thigh-level and gartered into place. Petticoats help keep Alex somewhat warm, ending just above the ankle. A bum roll, heavy woollen skirts, a bodice and an apron complete the outfit. Let me tell you, this weighs a lot. It is difficult to run in full skirts. Or climb a tree (which is a bad idea anyway, as women shouldn’t do something as indecorous as climb a tree).
Do you know the Dutch built a village for the Jewish community in World War Two? Imogen Matthews tells the inspirational story in ‘
About half-way through the book, Jan and his brother, Oscar, are arrested by the Gestapo for helping a fallen American pilot. This extract describes what happens after their terrifying journey in the back of the Nazis’ vehicle.
‘They’re going to lock us up?’
Deep in the Veluwe woods lies a secret that frustrates the Germans. Convinced that Jews are hiding somewhere close by, they can find no proof.
Sofie, a Jewish Dutch girl, is one of the first inhabitants of Berkenhout. At first she refuses to participate in village life and pines for her friends and family. But she realises there is no choice and comes to appreciate the support of the local community who make their survival possible.
In November, I received some mail from Nunspeet, Holland. Imogen Matthews posted an article to 
Across the path was a sign to Het Verscholen Dorp, Dutch for hidden village. It wasn’t easy to see what was there, which was probably the point. We followed a rough path through the trees and ahead of us was a hut of some sort, only partly visible. The roof was covered with moss, vegetation and branches to look like the ground beside it. It was a reconstruction of an underground hut that had stood on this spot.
Today, the woods are a haven for people looking to escape busy lives in towns and cities. The Veluwe is a popular holiday destination, but deep in the woods it’s always tranquil. I imagine how quiet it must have been 74 years ago, although for many the peace was tempered by an undercurrent of threat and fear.
Letters to the Pianist
Letter from the author…
‘To explain, Jung’s philosophy is based on the principle that life is not a series of random events, but rather an expression of a deeper order, referred to as Unus mundus, Latin for one world or one energy. A meaningful coincidence occurs from a conscious or unconscious need, want or desire, that draws the observer and the connected phenomenon together through Unus mundus. Listen to me, Eddie,’ he said, standing up and waving his arms around like a conductor of an orchestra, ‘it’s all good.’
‘Letters to the Pianist has a gripping and multi-layered plotline’ – The Daily Mail
Angela Petch is an author of historical fiction, and she has written two wonderful novels set in Tuscany. I completely lost myself in both novels. ‘
The ebooks of ‘
Cari lettori (Dear Readers),
The inglese was still asleep on the planks above the cows. The nights were chilly and the animal warmth and dry hay made a comfortable bedroom – much better than mine. I have to share with nonna and she kicks and tosses at night. She snores like the pig we used to fatten for Christmas. There have been no pigs this year. The Germans have ‘requisitioned’ ours and everybody else’s in the area. ‘Pigs eating pigs,’ we muttered amongst ourselves.
‘