Review by Paul Taylor-McCartney of "The Subtle Art of Short Fiction" ed. Isabelle Kenyon

 

This is a concise, well-focused companion for creative writers who already understand the fundamentals of crafting short fiction and now want to work at the level of nuance, treating it as a form defined by compression and consequence. The emphasis is not on shortcuts or formula, but on the deliberate choices that allow a story to suggest a larger world while remaining tightly controlled.

One of the anthology’s strengths is the authority and range of its contributors. Essays and writing exercises from Daisy Johnson, Matt Wesolowski, Kerry Hadley-Pryce, Sarah Schofield, Jonathan Taylor, S. J. Bradley, Mahsuda Snaith, David Hartley and Farhana Shaikh offer a multi-perspectival account of craft (including an illuminating introduction by Paul March-Russell). The variety of approaches prevents the collection from becoming prescriptive. Instead, it reads as a series of intelligent, practice-based reflections on what short stories can achieve and how they generate their distinctive force.

The technical focus is consistently strong. Several chapters attend to subtext and micro-tension, showing how emotional pressure often gathers not through explanation, but through what remains withheld and unresolved. The discussion of sensory minimalism is equally effective, returning to the difficult question of when to render detail vividly and when to imply, allowing the reader to complete the image. Structure is treated as an area for experimentation rather than compliance, with contributors encouraging alternative narrative frameworks and more considered thinking about pacing, revelation and the placement of the final turn. 

Crucially, each chapter includes helpful writing prompts and exercises that bridge literary theory and creative practice. These are not incidental add-ons, but carefully designed invitations to test ideas on the page, and to translate conceptual discussion into specific decisions about language, scene and shape. I have recently returned to the short story form myself, so engaging with this book has been both timely and beneficial in deepening my own understanding of the genre, while also offering practical stimulus for new work.

Isabelle Kenyon’s editorial hand keeps the collection coherent while allowing each voice its own texture, and it is the gravitas and insight of those voices that gives the anthology its remarkable depth. The result is an anthology that sharpens attention, both to the craft of short fiction and to the pleasures of reading it closely. This is a thoughtful, highly engaging and genuinely useful book, and one that rewards return, particularly for writers intent on refining control, precision and resonance.

About the reviewer
Dr Paul Taylor-McCartney is a writer, post-doctoral researcher and lecturer. His academic and creative interests include dystopian literature, Queer studies, children’s fiction and initial teacher education. His poetry, short fiction and scholarly articles have appeared in a wide range of print and electronic media, and recent fiction titles he worked on as commissioning editor have won regional readers’ and publishers’ awards. His debut children’s novel, Sisters of the Pentacle, was published by Hermitage Press (2022), and his first non-fiction title, Cornwall Uncharted: Mapping Cornwall’s Queer History of Concealment, Culture and Creativity, is shortly to be published by The History Press (June 2026).

You can read more about The Subtle Art of Short Fiction on Creative Writing at Leicester here. 

Review by Sally Shaw of "The Dark Within Them" by Isabelle Kenyon

The Dark Within Them is a novel by Isabelle Kenyon, a Manchester-based editor, writer, poet and spoken word performer. 

The novel is set in America within a Mormon community. The story is told from the viewpoint of the two main characters: Chad, well known in his home town of Lehi, and Amber, a faith-healer and visionary, who is widowed and mother to two teenagers Gilly and Ivan. Kenyon gives the reader an insight into both characters' inner thoughts and emotions. The story is fast paced, taking place from their first meeting in January 2015 to June 2015 when truths are uncovered and lessons learnt. I enjoyed the chapter lengths and access to the different mind sets of Chad and Amber. 

The story begins several months into Chad and Amber’s relationship at a Temple meeting. Chad is realising the complexity of being married and a stepfather. As a reader this chapter caused me to consider how Mormon beliefs and community could impact family live. Brett is the leader of the temple and the person Chad absolutely trusts. Chad asks for help with Gilly. "Gilly’s fifteen. Young. She’s … she’s mostly a good kid. Anything bad in her? It didn’t come from her mothering. That’s not to blame." The outcome is that Brett recommends his conversion therapy that isn’t practised at other temples. The interaction between Brett and Gilly is the catalyst to the death of Gilly. And Chad’s actions following her death are fuelled by the temple and community morals. Amber questions Chad following Gilly’s death: "'Was she possessed, Chad?' she said into his damp neck. 'Was my girl bad?'”  

Following Gilly’s death, Amber and Chad enter into a life of deceit and lies. Amber gains strength from the need to protect her son. Chad’s actions are powered by his Mormon values and devotion to Brett, while Ivan trusts no-one and his actions are perceived by Chad in a way neither he or his mother could have predicted. 

The story explores the impact on relationships of past experiences, upbringing, hidden agendas, resentment, religion, community and the unveiling of the characters' truth. Both Amber and Chad become unsure of each other and their marriage which changes the course of their lives.

The Dark Within Them is a novel that is easy to read. I enjoyed how Kenyon structured the chapters to move back in time and then back to the present, and the strength of Amber’s voice at the end of the novel. I found myself questioning Amber’s decision to actively seek out a husband. I was unsure why she choose not to have her children meet Chad in person prior to their move to his home. I did think some aspects of the plot were too far removed from reality for me. Still, the novel gives us an insight into the intricacy of relationships within a family, community and religion. It provides the reader with twists and turns and a strong ending.

About the reviewer

Sally Shaw has an MA Creative Writing from the University of Leicester. She writes short stories and is currently working on her novel based in 1950s Liverpool. She sometimes writes poetry. She gains inspiration from old photographs, history, her own childhood memories, and is inspired by writers Sandra Cisneros, Deborah Morgan, Liz Berry and Emily Dickinson. She has had short stories and poetry published in various online publications, including The Ink Pantry and AnotherNorth and in a ebook anthology Tales from Garden Street (Comma Press Short Story Course book, 2019). Sally lives in the countryside with her partner, dog, and bantam. Twitter: @SallySh24367017

You can read more about The Dark Within Them by Isabelle Kenyon on Creative Writing at Leicester here. 

Review by Isabelle Kenyon of "The Love Genes" by Eleni Cay

In her novel The Love Genes, Eleni Cay presents a thought-provoking exploration of love, relationships, and mental illness in a futuristic society set in 2039 Sweden. Through the eyes of protagonist Katie, the reader is transported to a world that is both familiar and strange, where technology has advanced to the point of ubiquitous phone use, but where societal norms and attitudes towards mental illness are still very much a work in progress.

Cay's writing is vivid and evocative, painting a detailed picture of the setting and the characters. The opening scene, in which Katie takes a train from London to Sweden, sets the stage for the novel and provides insight into the fast-paced, technologically advanced society in which it is set. The reader is immediately drawn into the world of the novel and is able to relate to Katie's struggles as she adjusts to her new life in Sweden.

One of the novel's main themes is the relationship between Katie and her boyfriend Mark, and the couple's struggles with infertility and their desire for a child. Through their conversations and interactions, the reader is able to gain a deep understanding of their characters and the complexities of their relationship. The novel also explores the impact of medical conditions, such as Katie's Multiple Sclerosis, on relationships and the difficulties of managing pain and sleep.

The novel also delves into the darker side of relationships, as Katie starts dating someone called Erik, who turns out to be violent and dangerous. This storyline raises interesting moral questions about the nature of mental illness and the effectiveness of prison as a means of rehabilitation. The novel's exploration of these themes is both nuanced and thought-provoking, and it invites the reader to consider their own attitudes and beliefs about these issues.

Overall, The Love Genes is a thought-provoking and well-written novel that explores complex themes and characters in a futuristic society. It is a novel that will resonate with readers who are interested in exploring the nuances of relationships, mental illness, and societal norms. Highly recommended.

About the reviewer
Isabelle Kenyon is a writer of prose and poetry based in Manchester with her two guinea pigs. She is the Managing Director of Fly on the Wall Press and also runs PR and editing services under Kenyon Author Services. She tweets at @kenyon_isabelle

Review by Katharina Maria Kalinowski of "Persona Non Grata," ed. Isabelle Kenyon

Against the backdrop of Brexit talks, global refugee crises, and an ongoing endangerment of the refuges of our collective home planet earth itself, Fly on the Wall Press have launched their new poetry anthology Persona Non Grata. Following the success of Please Hear What I’m Not Saying, editor Isabelle Kenyon’s second charitable book project brings together 45 poets who explore what it means to feel unwanted. Reasons for this not only include an institutional status of undesirability, but range from social exclusion because of “my deep routed melanin / Dark brown eyes and thick-tongued accent” to mental isolation because “one is of the wrong gender.” 

Arranged into seven thematic sections, each poem offers a glimpse at people who don’t fit in; people to whom the “star-strung door to HSBC” remains forever shut; people whose voices we fail to understand or have learnt to ignore. Issues of marginalisation and injustice are put in dialogue with invisibility at best and humiliation at worst. There’s the husband who “tells you to call / what he’s been wearing diapers”, old Ida who used to “dance on a moonlit beach / With a handsome man from Italy”, Abdul from Libya who is told to “Go home!”, Otto who sings “Latvian / folk songs till some / drunks give him / a good kicking”, the girl who is “tired, dead tired” of “sitting single in a bus seat meant for two.” They all have a story to share – but “it seems you were all deaf.” 

The motif of “home” is reoccurring in all these stories, and it does not just refer to the physical place “where my heart was formed”. Home is a narrative of togetherness, a sheltering body of one’s own, a secure job, a safe country, a family of some kind, a hot meal, a childhood memory of “learning to fly on swings.” Losing the comfort of such a refuge feels like losing one’s breath, especially when taken away by disaster and violence. With homes, lives are left behind in a “land that was once / called cradle but is now a mass grave.”

The poetic voices emerging from the taboo of silence are as varied as the backgrounds of the contributors themselves. They find the intimate thoughts of a poetic I, the perspectives of an outside observer to the outsider, boldly adapt a collective “We”, prose-poetic speech, or a sarcastic distance in order to claim that “There’s nothing wrong anywhere.” While many make use of the space their stories are denied in real life and experiment with free verses on the page, the occasional rhyming scheme is also welcome. This includes one of Kenyon’s poems herself, which chimes in with the grim humour of the last section by suggesting: “Let’s make Britain great white again.”  

Forming a moving mosaic of dissent, the poems begin to echo each other’s concerns and imagine political action. Poetry comes to us “in gun-shapes.” Anger is cultivated, grief segmented. Bodies are exposed, pain is tangible. Guilt creeps into the “comfort of living rooms.” When do we stop noticing? Who decides on a normative skin colour, gender, BMI; who decides who is welcome? Who decides who is not?

These poets use language to challenge the status quo and are not afraid to ask uncomfortable questions. As lyrical attentiveness is joined by activist ideas, words themselves become uninvited troublemakers, non gratae in an illusion of harmony. It remains up to us then, to accommodate every word and everybody, “uncover the other in ourselves” and learn, as the final poem invites us, to celebrate difference.


About the reviewer
Katharina Maria Kalinowski is a bilingual poet and EUmanities fellow at the Universities of Cologne, Kent, and Dublin. Her practice-based PhD project focuses on ecopoetry and translation. She has most recently published in Magma 72, Epizootics, and The Transnational: A Literary Magazine. 

Review by Sue Mackrell of "Please Hear What I’m Not Saying" edited by Isabelle Kenyon

Words are powerful and these words are more powerful than most. They burst through the gaps and silences surrounding mental health with brutal and searing honesty.

It is sometimes said that creativity comes from a dark place, forged from an intense sensitivity to the highs and lows of what it is to be human. It is certainly true of these poets, who write from direct experience of their own or loved ones’ mental illness.

Images are surprising, sometimes shocking. Grief is a ‘cruel handbag - / its catch snaps shut like jaws’ burying ‘an old compact, / hankie embroidered with an M.’ Clothes are ‘a pile of ugly cocoons’ provoking unwelcome memories of childhood. When ‘Baby Blues / were cover for the hopeless days,’ a baby boy is strapped to his mother’s chest, hidden under a blue raincoat as his mother contemplates suicide. Another baby is ‘kicking out sweet baby legs - / his fat oaf of a mother crawling, hands and knees, walrusing the floor / in search of filth.' Dementia is ‘a sleeping sickness / that makes a drought / of memory.' Anxiety is to ‘walk on the needles / of all my worries, / nettling and biting.’

In ‘My Father’s Paranoia’ Jonathan Taylor writes movingly about  how he once said he would cut the hedge when he was ‘less busy’ and then seeing his father, ‘in a sweat, trembling, / falling over, fitting, minor-stroking ... and all I know now / is how un-busy I actually was / that hot Sunday.’

In my own poem I try to convey the visceral jolt of a sudden descent into depression, the  ‘hangman’s drop to Hades.’ But there is also hope, that ‘streaks of sunlight / will diminish the dark.’

There are moments of beauty, of appreciation of small moments, of survival in these poems which are accessible and engaging but also profound. Those who have felt isolated by mental illness may respond with a sense of recognition, and for others there are opportunities for new insights and understanding.  Crass comments about ‘having an OCD day‘ or patronising ‘jokes’ about ‘schizophrenia’ are challenged here in a way that is courageous and empowering.

About the reviewer
Sue Mackrell ‘s poems and short stories have appeared in a wide range of publications, including Agenda and Fairacre Press. She has an MA from Loughborough University, and taught creative writing there for several years. She enjoys working on local history projects, giving a voice to those who have been silenced, such as local witches and Leicester Conscientious Objectors of the First World War. 

Review by Katy Louise Gearing of "Please Hear What I'm Not Saying," ed. Isabelle Kenyon

There is a lot of poetry about mental health. Some overt, some subtle. As a poet who focuses on writing about my own mental health, I try to read a lot of poetry about it. It makes me feel less alone, as it does for a lot of people. Despite this, I’ve never read a full anthology of mental health poetry. Odd I know, but there we are.

Reading Please Hear What I’m Not Saying was not always an easy experience, but it was always worth it. Along with more subtle hints of mental health tip-toeing into the room, there were steel capped boots running in and kicking everything in sight. I loved it. When reading a book about mental health written by only one person, I find that you’ll only get one point of view. Or one specific set of issues. For instance, I tend to gravitate towards books surrounding depression and anxiety, because they are the issues I suffer with. However, this book contains poetry about several mental health issues, which is refreshing. And heart-breaking. 

What I also found refreshing was the way the poetry was set out - in eight different sections, numbered chronologically, but with no names. Instead there was a space for you to write your own title for each of the eight sections, encouraging you to read and consider what each part does for you, and name it accordingly. I love the openness of this, as if the writers know that we’re all going through individual struggles and, as such, want us to take whatever we need to from the poetry instead of telling us what each part should mean.

I won’t name one favourite poem or poet in here, because to do that would do a disservice to all the other poetry involved. All the poets dissect mental health in their own way, and every one of them does it successfully.  I would just recommend that you read it and take anything you need to from it.


About the reviewer
Katy Louise Gearing is a writer in her 20’s who focuses on poetry surrounding mental health and feminism. She occasionally writes fiction, but tends to get distracted too easily for anything longer than a short story. When not writing, you can probably find her petting cats, or reading.

Review by Rosalind Adam of "Please Hear What I'm Not Saying" edited by Isabelle Kenyon

The poetry anthology Please Hear What I’m Not Saying is described by Isabelle Kenyon as ‘a labour of love.’ It is certainly a mammoth achievement with contributions from over one hundred poets on the subject of mental health and wellbeing. 

Kenyon is author of This is not a Spectacle and The Trees Whispered. She explains that she compiled the anthology for a chance to work with other poets and to make a positive contribution to Mind, the charity that supports people with mental health issues. All profits from the book will go to this charity.  

In October 2017 Kenyon put out a call for submissions on her website, flyonthewallpoetry.co.uk, with an apology that no payments would be made to contributors. She did not expect to receive such an overwhelming number of submissions, a result that must surely reflect the number of people in the country affected by mental health.

Readers have been invited to provide titles for each of the eight sections. Kenyon gives us a clue to their contents in the introduction where she tells us that each section grows ‘with positivity.’ I like the idea of creating my own section headings. It feels as if I have been involved in the compilation process, involved with the content and reminded that we are all affected in some way by mental health issues.

There are too many poems to mention them all. As I read the anthology, I visited over a hundred people’s minds with my ‘face pressed into the dirt’ and ‘the all too familiar mantra sounding loud and clear / in my ear: I hate you, please don’t leave me,' the reminder that it’s ‘Easier to paint a smile of lies / than stumble over the truth,’ and the reassurance that ‘storm clouds part/and I can see / chinks of light appearing.’ This anthology is, in fact, full of familiar emotions and recognisable scenarios. Even if the proceeds were not going to Mind Charity, I would still buy a copy just to reassure myself that other people feel the same way too.


About the reviewer
Rosalind Adam is a writer and student on the MA in Creative Writing at the University of Leicester. Her blog is: http://rosalindadam.blogspot.co.uk/