Dear Reader,
Today's special guest, Ava Glass is the author of the espionage series Alias Emma. Ava Glass is a pseudonym for a former crime reporter and civil servant. Her time working for the government introduced her to the world of spies, and she's been fascinated by them ever since. She lives and writes in the south of England.
Ava's new book is The Trap. British spy Emma Makepeace races against the clock to stop the Russians from carrying out a high-profile assassination in this gripping thriller.
Join Ava's book club and win free books on her website: www.AvaGlass.co.uk, or follow her on social media: @AvaGlassBooks
Welcome Ava!
Moving Away
I didn't consciously choose to become an expat, although when I was hired by a London publisher in 1999 and moved to Britain, I joked to my friends that I was an economic migrant. In reality the plan, as I explained to my parents, was to work in London for two years, and then return to the US and settle down.
Although I didn't know it yet, that wasn't going to happen.
I arrived at Heathrow on a cool September morning, and spent two hours at immigration having my visa checked by a kindly older man who never once gave the impression he doubted my paperwork while also keeping me standing at his desk until my feet hurt. When I finally reached the baggage department, my suitcase was making its thousandth solo spin on the luggage carousal and everyone else from my plane was long gone. My adventure had begun.
That afternoon, after depositing my bags at my new place, I walked around my east London neighbourhood for the first time, and fell in love. Over the coming days, I would fall in love with more than that.
I loved my job as an editor and writer, and I adored London, and more than that--I fell madly in love with Britain. I liked its winding one-lane roads, and its soft constant rain, and the way everyone handled a crisis with steady lack of hysteria. As if it would be silly to get excited about something tiny like a bombing or a riot.
Sangfroid is one of my favourite descriptions. It comes from the French: 'sang froid' or 'cool blood.' The British had the cool blood I needed in my life.
I liked the changing of the seasons, from lukewarm summer to chilly autumn, when my feet crunched on a carpet of fallen acorns and golden leaves tangled themselves in my hair. Later, I was fascinated by winter at this northern latitude where the sun set in mid-afternoon and the moon rose at four o'clock.
I had always lived a peripatetic life. My parents moved constantly when I was a child, and as an adult I'd emulated them, living in four states in the five years after I'd graduated from college. Each move was interesting and brought me new friends, but no place ever truly felt like home. In fact, I wasn't certain I knew what home was. Home was an illusion.
England felt like home. Home had found me at last.
-- Ava Glass
* I hope you enjoyed reading today's guest column. If you're one of the winners, or your entry is an Honorable Mention in this year's Write a DearReader contest, it will be featured as a guest column. Cash prizes, rules and deadlines, along with last year's winning entries, read all about them at: https://www.dearreader.com/contest2024/index.html
Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.
Suzanne Beecher
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