She must write her rage ... to win her war.

Peak District, Mercia, AD 910: a young girl, Freda works hard to avoid her father's temper, while longing for his approval. She loves foraging in the woods and hearthside stories of heroes. Secretly she thinks in poetry and dreams of one day being able to write; her quills are grass stalks and sticks, her parchment the sky, the earth, her skin. But Freda's world is at war, and when her village is decimated in a savage raid and her father goes missing, Freda must find the strength to survive.

Taken in by the church, her only options are a life of servitude or prayer. But the cunning bishop sees an opportunity. As well as teaching Freda to write, he uses her survival as evidence of a miracle so as to attract pilgrims who bring wealth. As Freda chafes against the bishop's increasing control, she develops a friendship with the Mercian leader Ethelflæd, Lady of the Mercians, who shows her what it is to lead as a woman in a world that worships warrior kings.

Soon Freda must choose. Does she remain the powerless, subservient quill whose fate lies in the hands of another, or does she fight for the right to create - and write - her own story?

PRAISE FOR BY HER HAND:

'A work of remarkable feminist historical fiction about survival, female rage, and writing your own narrative ... Marion Taffe easily belongs alongside renowned authors of the genre such as Geraldine Brooks, Maggie O'Farrell, Lauren Groff, and Robyn Cadwaller, making it all the more impressive that By Her Hand is Taffe's debut.' Readings

'A dazzling debut. Marvellous.' Robyn Mundy, Cold Coast

'A remarkable feat of storytelling. I wept as I read, in recognition of bravery, grief and longing' Michelle Tom, Ten Thousand Aftershocks

'Deft, vivid, intimate story-telling which reels us into a past that casts a bright, penetrating light' Sally Colin-James, One Illumined Thread

'I sank into this novel, knowing myself in sure hands. With meticulous research and deep empathy, Taffe invites us into the world of the tenth century, so unlike our own and yet, we discover, also familiar, a place of beauty and brutality, poetry and pain, longing and loss.' Robyn Cadwallader, The Anchoress