‘Meeting Lydia’ by Linda MacDonald now in audio

lydiaYou might recall I reviewed this book when it first came out in paperback, well now it’s out as an audiobook and the clip suggests a deservedly professional performance. Here it is:

And here’s the press release:


Linda MacDonald’s first novel Meeting Lydia is about the powerful
long term effects of school bullying and of internet relationships.
First released in 2011, it has now been abridged and turned into an
audiobook, narrated by talented voice actress Harriet Carmichael.

When Marianne comes home from work one day to find her husband talking to a glamorous woman in the kitchen, insecurities resurface from a time when she was bullied at school. Jealousy rears its head and her marriage begins to fall apart. Desperate for a solution, she finds herself trying to track down her first schoolgirl crush …

“Edward Harvey. Even thinking his name made her tingle with half-remembered childlike giddiness. Edward Harvey, the only one from Brocklebank to whom she might write if she found him.”

“Many women have said they can relate to the character of Marianne,’ says Linda. ‘She’s in her mid forties and fearful of ageing and no longer being attractive to her husband. When a younger woman appears on the scene, she over-reacts and creates more problems.’ Linda adds that it was the arrival of Friends Reunited in 2001 that gave her the idea for the novel. ‘This was the beginning of the social media explosion which along with MySpace and Facebook, gave people a chance to find long lost friends and classmates,’ she explains. ‘We sent off emails without thought of where this might lead and the potential consequences to existing relationships. In Meeting Lydia, I wanted to highlight the issues. It’s quite an introspective novel and I’ve always felt it would be perfect for audio. Now my dream is being realised and I’m very excited by the outcome.’

Born and brought up in Cockermouth, Cumbria, Linda MacDonald has a degree in psychology and a PGCE in biology and science. She retired from teaching in 2012 in order tolinda focus on writing, and has now published three novels with Matador. She lives in Beckenham, and travels to speak to various groups about the Lydia series and the psychology of internet relationships.
For author interviews, review copies, articles, photos or extracts please contact Linda MacDonald: Email: linda.mac1@btinternet.com
Twitter: @LindaMac1 Facebook: www.facebook.com/MeetingLydia
Audiobook produced by Essential Music Ltd, 20 Great Chapel Street, London, W1F 8FW. Tel: 0207 439 7113. Email: james@essentialmusic.co.uk

Indie Authors Linda MacDonald & Cathryn Grant

I am not really a reviewer so I am stopping short of calling this a book review – and in any case, it concerns five books at least so we’d be here all day. Instead, I’m going to just talk about two indie authors – one American, the other British – both of whom write about relationships in a way that takes the reader right inside the characters, following every introspective argument, uncertainty, dilemma, and impactful resolution. Beyond that, they are chalk and cheese. Cathryn Grant writes suburban noir and introduces me to people with whom I have nothing in common but nevertheless gets me engaged with them within minutes. Linda MacDonald writes about the midlife crises of people whose life-styles are familiar to me – I’m interested because I know people like this and I want to see how things work out for them. Both writers show a knowledge of how people work that is almost alarming, and do this justice by their minutely focused attention to detail. And that’s where the similarities end: the one is utterly American and the other so quintessentially British, her novels all but come with an order of fresh-cut cucumber sandwiches.

Cathryn writes intricately plotted novels featuring different sets of characters. You know something bad is going to happen but you don’t know what, and when it does, the page-turning comes from watching the characters’ interplay and gradual dissolution. Cathryn’s people start out glossy and perfect and are slowly deconstructed by the events in their lives; every step believable – if sometimes yell-at-the-page-dumb – with nothing coming out of the blue. Pay attention; with the odd exception, everything is significant.

I read Demise of the Soccer Moms a while ago and reviewed it here. This is an extract:

Demise of the Soccer Moms has an intricate and tightly written plot centred on three main characters; women whose daughters play for the school soccer team. Each of them has baggage that underpins their actions so that, bizarre and irrational as they increasingly become, there is no point reached of inconsistent absurdity. They do what they do because they are what they are.

Yesterday, I finished Buried by Debt, this time fully aware before I began of how the seeming perfections of the characters’ lives would be unravelled, their insecurities slowly revealed through their internal dialogues so that each step they took – as infuriatingly stupid as it might seem – had a fully-fledged logic to it. It begins simply enough: an economic down-turn, credit maxed out in anticipation of a promotion that is delayed, and misplaced pride leading to cover-ups and lies. Again, I wanted to slap these people with their affluent and superficial lifestyles, their lack of personal depth, and their inability to see much beyond their own needs; and again I was convinced by the sound psychology of them. The outcome is avoidable and also inevitable although, being a noir, there’s no predicting those last scenes.

I have just begun The Suburban Abyss and now that I am fully trained in the Grant experience, I am flicking my kindle pages with enthusiastic anticipation of how Brian and the pit behind his house are going to impact on each other.


alone alt

Linda mines a very different seam of social realism which, like Cathryn’s, exists in a microcosm, set this time in the UK. These characters are middle England, middle class, middle aged people who, elsewhere, are often the focus of comedy but rarely sympathetic emotional dissection. There is nothing grandiose, the course of events is unpredictable, and the plot – if what happens can be described as such – concerns the picking through of convoluted and entangled relationships rather than a build to a genre conclusion.

Linda’s trilogy is about the same cast of characters and, rather than just watching them unravel, which they do, we also see them gaining strengths. The first book, Meeting Lydia, is set in the early days of the internet as the forty-somethings are just getting to grips with emails and Friends Reunited. There are flash-backs to schooldays and the novel follows the insecurities of a woman, Marianne, whose experience of bullying has left a dent in her confidence. The re-emergence of an old flame via the internet is the cause then of a great deal of self-analysis and a deconstruction of what, exactly, constitutes infidelity. I reviewed it here. This is an extract which says something about the narrative style:

To read Meeting Lydia is to sit in a comfy front room with the author, and listen while she tells you the story. Linda MacDonald is a raconteur, an ‘under-the-banyan-tree’, book-at-bedtime story teller, who conjures up complex images through a stream-of-consciousness narrative.

I also declared an interest: I have known Linda since we were at college together in 1975 and was party to Lydia’s gestation. I recognise the sources for some of the characters and I know where many of the situations originate. This is a disadvantage to me as a reader and certainly as a reviewer – I know more than other readers and I don’t know how much sense some of these things make to the people who come to the novels fresh. Probably quite a bit, unfettered as they are by personal context.

I enjoyed Lydia and went on then to read A Meeting of a Different Kind which is a standalone novel set in the same world but with different key characters; the originals having less prominence. Time has moved on, the internet has evolved, and the relationships of all the players are in a state of flux. Again, loyalties, marital conflicts, fidelity, and the uncertainties of social interpretation are key features, and again where the story ends up is less important than how it ends up there. If you are a man who doesn’t know how women think – this, like Lydia, is the book for you. If you are a woman unsure of how men think, ditto. And I should mention the menopause because it is almost a character in itself – driving the fears, flamboyances, and indiscretions of people who are, in all key respects, good folk trying to get on with life the best way possible.

This theme is maintained in Alone Alternative. We are up to date; the London Olympics, twitter, Facebook and a number of other contemporary references lock in the context, and Marianne is a post-menopausal fifty-something retiring from teaching and writing a novel. There is no obvious plot – this is about the people not an undercurrent of crime or mystery or even romance – and the outcome is always in doubt. With characters up to no good and threatening to wreak havoc, there is no settling back and enjoying the ride in anticipation of an eventual smooth resolution.

Unusually though there is a sense of the snake swallowing its own tail in that Marianne talks a lot about her novel, which is called ‘Lydia’ and also spends some time in discussions about it being fiction. If you like crossover TV – the sort where the cast of CSI turn up in an episode of LA Law – then you’ll like this multiple mirror effect and getting your head around the reflections. If you don’t, try to ignore it – the deeply observed psychology of the characters will see you through. Ditto the occasionally teachy environmental messages; that might be just me. The writing is unique and the insights well-founded – you won’t be wasting your time.

Two authors, two very different approaches to the same thing – the dissection of human nature through stream of consciousness introspection, and the kinds of analysis many of us get into when we are trying to understand someone else’s head without necessarily understanding our own.

Update of Indie Author Page

I have been somewhat neglectful of my indie author page. Here are some updates:

Linda Cassidy LewisAn Illusion of Trust. This is the sequel to Brevity of Roses and follows relationships encountered there.

Linda MacDonaldA Meeting of a Different Kind. This is a sequel to Meeting Lydia but written from the perspective of other characters – another window on the business of re-vitalising by email, old relationships.

Vall Buss: The Silver Spindle. Sci fi written by a scientist flying under a pen name.

Cathryn Grant: Cathryn has been on a bit of a roll lately. Her most recent, Last Chance (a suburban ghost story), is just out on Amazon, but there is a whole list there – noir, suburban, ghost, and mystery.

December 2012

Michelle Mina ScowcroftSquashed Tomatoes and Stew out on Kindle. Proceeds from the first 500 sales will go to Fight for Sight which researches into causes and treatment for blindness. Michelle is a post graduate student on the Lancaster university MA in Creative Writing.

Lane AshfeldtSaltwater  is a collection of shorts stories about the sea which is out now on kindle. Lane has a chapter in Short Circuit, a recommended text for the MA in Creative Writing at Lancaster university. Quality, that is!

‘Meeting Lydia’ by Linda MacDonald

book coverTo read ‘Meeting Lydia is to sit in a comfy front room with the author, and listen while she tells you the story. Linda MacDonald is a raconteur, an ‘under-the-banyan-tree’, book-at-bedtime story teller, who conjures up complex images through a stream-of-consciousness narrative. Some might say there is more telling than showing, but they would be mistaken in judging this to be a fault. The telling is not exposition, not info-dumping, not tedious scene-setting. The telling is Bridget Jones; it is the internal curiosities, private debates, and mental machinations of the main character, Marianne, as she negotiates a mid-life crisis, the menopause, and a re-emergence of past horrors. If you are intrigued by relationships, by the seismic shifts brought on by the passage of time, or by the impact of early experience on the adult psyche, you will find more than enough here to meet your requirements.  And while fiction it may be, the fact is grounded and you can trust the psychology, the insights, and the research. Linda knows her stuff, and it shows.

Meeting Lydia‘ is about Marianne’s internet pursuit, via Friends Reunited, of a past relationship. It is the single thread upon which she  hangs a thousand-and-one intricate scenes of self discovery; any one of which might be seen as an irrelevant distraction from the plot, but each of which is like one of those tiny shops or galleries you come across unexpectedly while looking for Debenhams. If all you want is a mainstream chain store, this book is not for you. But if what you love best is poking around in unique and idiosyncratically organised one-roomers where the owner can tell you who made everything and the names of their grandchildren, you are very much in luck.

I was afraid of reviewing this book. My best friend is the author, we exchange Kula gifts (look up ‘Trobriand Islanders‘ and fix on yams and necklaces), and I’m pretty certain I’m in there somewhere, although definitely not as Edward. It has turned out to be easy to review because it is structurally competent, refreshingly unburdened by convention, and has no wasted words. It reads like a film, and maybe it should be one. So open up your copy of ‘Meeting Lydia‘, start up the projector in your head, and let Linda tell you a story.

Now out on Kindle via Amazon.