'Somersaults: Through the Keyhol' by Mira Mack is published by New Generation Publishing

'Somersaults: Through the Keyhol' by Mira Mack is published by New Generation Publishing

'Somersaults: Through the Keyhole' written by Mira Mack is published by New Generation Publishing. It is a story of a stubborn girl and young woman swims through chameleonic Socialism and its velvet funeral.

There are somersaults and there are somersaults. Physically … no big deal. Lots of people can do them. This book is about the other kind of somersaults – through life. In this case, from a little girl plunked into the mid-fifties in socialist Czechoslovakia to a rebel at school with beliefs twisted and turned by social storms. Then in 1968, her family lives through morphing into socialism with a human face, the consequent invasion of the Warsaw Pact armies, and ultimately, the Russian occupation. And eventually, for many ordinary people, the reality of the so-called Velvet Revolution of 1989.

When the girl grows into a young woman, she fights with traditions and old thinking. Plenty of humour, the discovery of limits, many sides of the same coin, the power of friendship, stepping into worlds of taboo, and challenging one's own fear – every somersault has consequences. Intimate, funny, honest.

If you enjoyed this book, try the sequel: Czech Mate. "Somersaults: Through the Keyhole" by Mira Mack is available to purchase in paperback.

Excerpt from the book:
"Go and have a look from the window and see who it is," mum sent dad. Until then, we had never locked the door and our visitors normally didn't bother delaying themselves with pressing a bell.

"A soldier," father commented from the window. He hesitated for a moment then energetically stepped from our living room towards the front door.

"I hope you are not going to open it," mum jumped up from the typewriter causing the smaller photo-frames to lurch and with a crash, hit the desktop.

"Of course I'm going to open it. I'm going out. After all, we don't have to hide like mice."

"He has a sub-machine gun," mum called out to dad and caught the sleeve of his sweater.

"He has it on his back, not in his hands," answered dad. "If he wanted to shoot, he wouldn't ring the bell. Girls, go into the kitchen; I'm going out."'