A Hostage

a novel by Charlotte Mendel

Print: 978-1-77133-924-7
220 Pages
May 30, 2023

When Charlotte is kidnapped panic is only held at bay by a sardonic Inner Voice, which alternately consoles and condemns. When the Middle Eastern dictator Kassem questions the writer about why she had killed him off in her last book A Hero, he triggers a surreal month of captivity. While Kassem appears determined to explain every warlike action, Charlotte attempts to instill humanity in the dictator. Inner Voice’s incredulity at such hubris provides much-needed comic relief in an increasingly tense situation, as the unbearable loneliness unleashes a storm of unexpected sexual fantasies and complex feelings.

When the promised release date comes and goes, Charlotte embarks on a hunger strike, which ultimately brings about a joyful reunion with her family. However, home quickly disintegrates into another form of confinement, as Charlotte discovers that Kassem had used her for his propaganda, streaming their interactions live online. Media interest drives the introverted writer inward; as her ability to function normally deteriorates, Charlotte becomes convinced that her existence is a liability for her children.

Ultimately a post-modern fable, the novel cleverly plays with perceptions of truth while exploring the concept of imprisonment, the wider impacts of social media, and challenging widely-held assumptions about fame. A Hostage probes Western political naiveté along with novelistic hubris as it, often hilariously, explores the relationship of the individual to society.

A Hostage

Charlotte Mendel is a traveller, an author, a parent, a farmer, a teacher and an environmental activist. Her two published adult novels have both won prizes; her first YA novel, Reversing Time was published by Guernica Editions in 2021. Charlotte has lived in Nova Scotia for 20 years and raised two wonderful children; this year she left her partner of 32 years and is in transit—her first destination is Europe. www.charlottemendel.com

Excerpt from Chapter One:

“Anything you want, anything at all, you just need to ask.” There is something genuine about the way he says it, that comforts me.

He’s a psycho mass murderer.

Yeah, but he doesn’t want to hurt me.

I expect he doesn’t really want to hurt Syrians either, but that didn’t prevent him unleashing chemical weapons on them.

Yeah well, they’re pissing him off and I intend to suck his ass. Possibly literally.

“A Hero is based on Syria?”

I swallow quickly. Every word I say might be used against me, but what might the right answer be? How was Kassem portrayed in A Hero anyway? It’s really annoying that I always forget the last book I wrote as soon as I’m into another one; worse that I can never read them again because they invariably produce a gag reflex. So really a waste of time adding my books to this library.

“A simple question,” he prompts.

I’m pretty sure the actual hero in the book supports Kassem. More or less. Until he starts poisoning his own people and stuff like that. I eyeball him with interest. A bona fide madman. “It was inspired by the Arab Spring, really.”

“But it’s obviously based on Syria.”

Why’s he asking if it’s so obvious? “I guess I was particularly interested in the events here.”


Because you were the sexiest of all the Middle Eastern leaders?

Grow up.

“Because you were a leading figure in America’s axis of evil, and I wanted my readers to hate my hero. If he supported an evil leader like you, that would be another strike against him.”


I’ve never managed to acquire the art of pondering one’s words. What I think, I say; I call it verbal vomit. Surely fear should help my verbal vomit? But I don’t feel afraid. Call me stupid or call me a pothead.

Or both.

Kassem sneers. “The Americans label so many Arab leaders as evil.”


“I guess it depends on your perspective.”

“You will see that I am not evil.”

I take a sip of tea. It is deliciously sweet. Today he’s playing good cop, thank God. And tomorrow…is unfortunately another day.

“You said I just needed to ask to get what I want, so, can I go home?”

He leans forward anxiously, blue eyes fixed on mine. Large blue eyes fringed with abundant dark eyelashes. “Are you not comfortable here?”


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