Shortlisted for the Wales Book of the Year 2013
The long awaited third collection of stories… homing in on the pressure points in the lives of its characters…can lead in many cases to prospering after aridity, or as in the title story, to a demonic hatching.
From an interview with Gwen Davies
“Stories present themselves as discrete worlds. I negotiate my way through. The stopping point therefore isn’t always under my control. I guess much depends on the nature of that world. With the title story, the more time I spent in it, the more seductive it became…for a writer, I mean, as it’s a frightening place.
To read more http://www.newwelshreview.com/article.php?id=206
An extract from A Girl’s Arm
…none of it made much of an impact on me until I opened the passport. I was a smart twenty-two and I’d entered abandoned properties regularly by this time and become pretty cool, so I believed, about people’s leavings. Kitchens alive with maggots and more than one homicidal cat had greeted me. A passport was unusual - worth something probably. But I opened it with only low grade curiosity for a sight of whoever was going to be costing Watkins and Nurse and Farmer Davies up the road some hard cash.
What I found myself staring at was - my own face.
“The Knight’s Move, the opening story in Gee Williams’ collection, transports you to a cliff- face where guilt and memory meet... As with much of the best storytelling, a lot is left unsaid, and what is said is raw, sharp, and sour-tasting in places, exquisitely sublime in others: a combination that works well for the reader. By the end of the tale I feel that I know exactly how to climb an all-but sheer rock-face and the accompanying sense of weightless, a sensation that carried on for much of the collection… The language is poetic, elegant and skillfully layered throughout, every string of words shifting you a little deeper into each protagonist’s view of the world.”
Judy Darley Skylightrain
Read full review at http://www.skylightrain.com/book-review-a-girls-arm-gee-williams/
“Williams’ writing is affable, mellifluous, her descriptions and observations at intervals almost mesmeric: ‘…the beach was invisible – but the sand was ubiquitous, followed you like a promise, kicked about and traipsed in, saying this is nowhere ordinary.’… But her real gift lies in her ability to confidence-trick her reader into wholeheartedly believing an unreliable narrator, or to visit places and people that, in different circumstances, they’d cross the road to avoid, manipulating them so succinctly and without a hint of awkwardness, they’re likely to become dizzy. She’s a bit of a magician.”