Jane Badrock has written a comedic thriller, Sinister Sisterhood. How often do you see the
words “comedic thriller” in the same sentence? Even her biography on her publisher’s website is funny, so I’ll share part of it as an introduction. She’s here today, publication day for her book, to talk about libraries, specifically a public library in England. First, though, a short biography. Her piece will follow, and then a summary of Sinister Sisterhood. I hope you enjoy Badrock’s appearance here today.
Jane was obsessed with horror, adventure, and humorous literature from an early age thanks mainly to her grandmother’s book collection. By the age of twelve, she was writing funny genre-busting stories about vampires and gangsters while still wanting to be both a vet and an artist.
With Sinister Sisterhood, Jane wanted to pull together her passion for writing, her love of animals and the belief that women can be just as capable and as horrible as men. So pleased is she to be an author with Bad Press ink, she hasn’t even thought about murdering any of them. Yet. In the meantime she would like to thank them all for putting this book together.
Jane was put off living up mountains when she nearly gave birth at the top of one. She also avoids rivers and canals after badly injuring herself and nearly drowning in the Norfolk Broads. Her offspring having left the nest, she lives with her husband in a nice flat field in East Anglia surrounded by rabbits, deer, squirrels, foxes, badgers, horses and two cats.
Thank you, Jane, for the following piece.
*****
Beginnings of a Bibliophile: How a Library Helped
Transform my Life
Transform my Life
When
prompted to think about libraries, I have to admit my memories were shamefully
scant until I visited the theatre in December 2019. Books in general, however,
were another matter.
prompted to think about libraries, I have to admit my memories were shamefully
scant until I visited the theatre in December 2019. Books in general, however,
were another matter.
As a young child,
I was hugely motivated to read. My grandfather in deepest Kent (Darling Buds
of May territory) taught me to read, sitting on his knee, with The
Little Red Hen. Actually, he bribed me into it, the going rate being a
penny a page. It worked well and probably helped inspire my first career choice
of accountant. He also had a wonderful study stacked wall to wall with books.
As I grew older, I would seek out the funny ones. I’d read almost all his PG
Wodehouse collection by the time I was ten. To this day I love the smell of
books, especially old ones and when I come across old libraries or bookshops it
reminds me of him and the Number Six cigarettes he used to smoke.
I was hugely motivated to read. My grandfather in deepest Kent (Darling Buds
of May territory) taught me to read, sitting on his knee, with The
Little Red Hen. Actually, he bribed me into it, the going rate being a
penny a page. It worked well and probably helped inspire my first career choice
of accountant. He also had a wonderful study stacked wall to wall with books.
As I grew older, I would seek out the funny ones. I’d read almost all his PG
Wodehouse collection by the time I was ten. To this day I love the smell of
books, especially old ones and when I come across old libraries or bookshops it
reminds me of him and the Number Six cigarettes he used to smoke.
At home in
Petts Wood where I was born, I began to collect books. My mother, despite
having once been a librarian, didn’t inspire me to read but did do her best to
get me books. Many of them were old and had names written in them – I found out
much later on that my parents were hard up and she bought them from jumble
sales. I’m sure she took me to our local library and I have vague memories of
reading (and loving) the Dr Seuss books there. Those and When We Were Very
Young by A A Milne certainly started my love of silly poetry,
considerably enhanced later on by Spike Milligan.
Petts Wood where I was born, I began to collect books. My mother, despite
having once been a librarian, didn’t inspire me to read but did do her best to
get me books. Many of them were old and had names written in them – I found out
much later on that my parents were hard up and she bought them from jumble
sales. I’m sure she took me to our local library and I have vague memories of
reading (and loving) the Dr Seuss books there. Those and When We Were Very
Young by A A Milne certainly started my love of silly poetry,
considerably enhanced later on by Spike Milligan.
Most of my
birthday presents were books or book tokens. Enid Blyton pretty much filled up
my early years’ collections until my sights were broadened by the Born Free
books about Elsa the Lion. They certainly reinforced my love of wildlife. Auntie
Joan introduced me to the Anne of Green Gables and Little Women series.
Auntie Pat, in Australia, sent books of antipodean animals and illustrated aboriginal
legends.
birthday presents were books or book tokens. Enid Blyton pretty much filled up
my early years’ collections until my sights were broadened by the Born Free
books about Elsa the Lion. They certainly reinforced my love of wildlife. Auntie
Joan introduced me to the Anne of Green Gables and Little Women series.
Auntie Pat, in Australia, sent books of antipodean animals and illustrated aboriginal
legends.
My earliest
recalled memories of libraries didn’t have much to do with books. My
schoolfriend Sally, however, recalls Petts Wood Library as a gateway to a whole
new world. Inspired by her mother, she was reading authors like Steinbeck and Cronin,
while I was collecting the Pan Books of Horror Stories. She reminded me of the
times we used to hide from the rain in our secondary school library. She,
naturally, to read. Me to eat my lunch – until I was caught. To appreciate this
scene, you have to imagine a typical old-fashioned teacher with a very squeaky
voice reaching an ear-splitting soprano crescendo.
recalled memories of libraries didn’t have much to do with books. My
schoolfriend Sally, however, recalls Petts Wood Library as a gateway to a whole
new world. Inspired by her mother, she was reading authors like Steinbeck and Cronin,
while I was collecting the Pan Books of Horror Stories. She reminded me of the
times we used to hide from the rain in our secondary school library. She,
naturally, to read. Me to eat my lunch – until I was caught. To appreciate this
scene, you have to imagine a typical old-fashioned teacher with a very squeaky
voice reaching an ear-splitting soprano crescendo.
Jam sandwiches in the library?
You’ll drop crumbs and then there will be mice!
And then the mice will eat all the books!
Mrs Hardy
was right, of course. She was also unintentionally and memorably funny. The
closest I got to Petts Wood Library in those days was during exam revision time.
‘Mum, I’m going to the library,’ actually meant I was going for an illicit
smoke from a packet of ten Number Six I’d hidden behind a nearby tree – not, by
the way, in memory of my grandfather, but because they were the cheapest.
was right, of course. She was also unintentionally and memorably funny. The
closest I got to Petts Wood Library in those days was during exam revision time.
‘Mum, I’m going to the library,’ actually meant I was going for an illicit
smoke from a packet of ten Number Six I’d hidden behind a nearby tree – not, by
the way, in memory of my grandfather, but because they were the cheapest.
So what was
the inciting event that brought back my precious memory? It was when I had the
pleasure of seeing Sir Ian McKellen On Stage late in 2019. He read from That
Book and made gentle fun of all the people who claim to read it every year.
And once upon a time, that was indeed me.
the inciting event that brought back my precious memory? It was when I had the
pleasure of seeing Sir Ian McKellen On Stage late in 2019. He read from That
Book and made gentle fun of all the people who claim to read it every year.
And once upon a time, that was indeed me.
It began in
the last term of primary school when our stand-in teacher did something his
predecessor never did. He read The Hobbit to us.
the last term of primary school when our stand-in teacher did something his
predecessor never did. He read The Hobbit to us.
Wow! I was
gripped. I couldn’t wait for the daily episodes.
gripped. I couldn’t wait for the daily episodes.
Then, on the
last day of term, a friend announced that there was a sequel: The Lord of
The Rings. Not only that, but she had it. No, not it, them. What? Three
enormous volumes bearing a price tag that I could never imagine affording. So
what could I do? I was desperate! There was only one solution.
last day of term, a friend announced that there was a sequel: The Lord of
The Rings. Not only that, but she had it. No, not it, them. What? Three
enormous volumes bearing a price tag that I could never imagine affording. So
what could I do? I was desperate! There was only one solution.
Obviously, I
went to the library. I felt as if I was going on a journey, not simply reading
about one, and how right I was. Just handling the precious volumes gave me
goose bumps. Each volume was many times bigger than anything I had ever tackled
before. I borrowed them and took them with me when I stayed with my
grandparents. They only ever saw me at mealtimes. One by one I devoured each volume.
Laughing, crying and being thoroughly absorbed and overwhelmed. When I finally
finished them, I became obsessed with the after-notes and cried again when I
read what happened to the characters after the end of the book.
went to the library. I felt as if I was going on a journey, not simply reading
about one, and how right I was. Just handling the precious volumes gave me
goose bumps. Each volume was many times bigger than anything I had ever tackled
before. I borrowed them and took them with me when I stayed with my
grandparents. They only ever saw me at mealtimes. One by one I devoured each volume.
Laughing, crying and being thoroughly absorbed and overwhelmed. When I finally
finished them, I became obsessed with the after-notes and cried again when I
read what happened to the characters after the end of the book.
When I went
home, I had to hand them back. I was bereft and had to wait weeks before I
could take them out again. I cried knowing that even then, no one in my family
could afford to buy me the series.
home, I had to hand them back. I was bereft and had to wait weeks before I
could take them out again. I cried knowing that even then, no one in my family
could afford to buy me the series.
Finally,
when the rather unwieldy and much less appealing paperback version came out, my
grandmother bought it for me. It wasn’t the same but at least it meant I could
read it at will. I instantly covered it in silver foil and read it all over
again.
when the rather unwieldy and much less appealing paperback version came out, my
grandmother bought it for me. It wasn’t the same but at least it meant I could
read it at will. I instantly covered it in silver foil and read it all over
again.
Thanks to
Sir Ian, I will never again forget the extreme pleasure I got from reading that
seemingly elusive book and the path it took me on. And most importantly, thank
you Petts Wood Library for making that happen.
Sir Ian, I will never again forget the extreme pleasure I got from reading that
seemingly elusive book and the path it took me on. And most importantly, thank
you Petts Wood Library for making that happen.
*****
Interested in a comedic thriller? Check out the summary of Jane Badrock’s new book, Sinister Sisterhood.
The Sinister Sisterhood – devious, deadly and dedicated
50% of author royalties from this book go to animal welfare charities
Elle’s dreams of domestic bliss are devastated by David’s deceiving dalliances. Abandoned and alone, she needs a new life-plan and it’s thrust upon her by her tiger-loving aunt in India. She must conserve the creatures and hunt the hunters.
Converted to the cause, Elle’s committed to combating cruel animal exploitation whether it’s trading in endangered animal parts or trophy hunting.
But she can’t do it on her own. What she needs is money and a terrific team beneath her and it takes time to find the right people to bring in money and carry out the campaign.
What Elle gets is an assortment of wicked women with their own attributes and agendas. But the battle gets bigger. There’s a mysterious mastermind building an execrable empire on the back of coveted creatures’ carcasses.
The Sisterhood are devious, deadly and dedicated – but not necessarily to Elle’s cause.
Can they succeed in getting what they want?
Can Elle eliminate her enemy before he fulfils his fiendish fur fetishes?
Be they in England, America, Russia or China- the team are going to have a damned good try!
*****
Sinister Sisterhood by Jane Badrock. Bad Press ink, 2020. ISBN 9781916084524 (paperback), 302p.
