Finalist in Memoir Category of the Independent Author Network Book of the Year Awards 2020
'Reading Ruth's story is like listening to a friend you know well. A deeply poignant read.' Family Tree Magazine
'I've read this book!' Jo Good, BBC Radio London
'Part history, part memoir, uncovering secrets, complex attitudes, painful memories, funny memories too - all brought together in this wonderful book.' Tony Fisher, BBC Radio Essex
'The characters are sharply etched and keenly observed.' Love East Magazine
'In the end we can only just write what we see and what we feel and you've done that beautifully.' Jason Solomons BBC Radio London
It’s never too late to say sorry. A whispered family tragedy ripples across three generations in this coming of age mother and daughter story. Sylvia is dying and her daughter, a British expat living in Dubai, recalls her childhood and the confusing relationship she had with her mother. After Sylvia’s death, she searches for explanations amongst her mother’s possessions, prompting uncomfortable childhood memories and clues to her mother’s sadness. The story moves back to London’s Jewish East End in 1930, where Rose is expecting a baby. When the natural order is disrupted, and part of our personal history is erased, who do we become? 'As children we assume our parents are perfect and complete creations, but mums and dads will inevitably misbehave, test the boundaries, make mistakes, stamp their feet and shed tears before they become the men and women they need to be.'
Ruth Badley is an author, speaker and ghost writer with a background in drama, education and journalism. She trained at the Central School of Speech and Drama in London and worked in secondary and further education, before establishing a successful career as the arts editor and features writer for a regional newspaper group. She has spoken on BBC radio and written articles for national newspapers and family history magazines. She gives talks to book clubs, literary festivals, writing, womens’ groups and genealogical societies.
I could feel the weight of every silence, every look, every unsaid word in your family’s story. You made absence feel as real as presence, and that’s a rare skill.
The shifts between London’s Jewish East End in the 1930s and modern-day reflections are masterful. History doesn’t feel distant here it breathes, aches, and laughs through real people’s lives.
I love the complexity of relationships and family and every family has their own set of drama. While her family has had its share of pain and loss and triumph, it is not so unusual, relatively speaking. She does such a beautiful job of making it an interesting and compelling read. Ruth Badley, please write more.
As one of your readers, I just want to say thank you for trusting us with something so close to your heart. This memoir reads like it was written by someone who understands both pain and love deeply. I’ll be recommending it to those who need its warmth.
If I hadn't already known my friend Ruth before I read her debut novel, I certainly feel like I know so much more now, having been engrossed in her deeply personal family-and-soul-baring true story. Her charm and honesty draw you in like a hug, and you don't want to let go. The writing is fresh, smart and both observational and engaging (not distant) - she is a key, brave and sensitive player in this three-act drama, as the structure cleverly reminds the reader. The portraits she paints, particularly that of her mother and their poignant relationship, are astonishing, and the entire world of the East End in that era is vividly drawn and subtly connected to the present day, reminding us that history is never static but ongoing. Although presented as her family's unique story, it has a universality that many can relate to, regardless of their upbringing history or location. This is a book that I shall be recommending to others for a long time. Bravo, dear Ruth, for your true artistry in holding up a mirror for others to see their reflections in, whether largely resonating or briefly glimpsed!
This book grabbed me from the beginning. Ruth skillfully weaves together stories from her life and those of her ancestors. The timeline bounces around quite a bit but the story is stronger for it, each moment in time building upon the next.
Though the story has its share of sadness and cruelty, it is very real, relatable, and never self-pitying. It's interesting to see the way that the author has constructed the story of her ancestors and brings their personalities to life.
The pace is just right and the author does a great job of leaving teasers at the end of each chapter to keep you turning the pages.
My only complaint is that I want to know more about the details of the author's life like what circumstances brought her to Australia or Dubai. However, I understand that this is a story all to itself and this story is primarily the story of Ruth's complicated relationship with her mother and the circumstances that molded them each into the women they became.
This book was entered in The Wishing Shelf Book Awards. This is what our readers thought: Title: Where are the grown-ups? Author: Ruth Badley
Star Rating: 5 Stars Number of Readers: 17 Stats Editing: 9/10 Writing Style: 10/10 Content: 9/10 Cover: 7/10 Of the 17 readers: 17 would read another book by this author. 13 thought the cover was good or excellent. 17 felt it was easy to follow. 17 would recommend this book to another reader to try. Of all the readers, 6 felt the author’s strongest skill was ‘subject knowledge’. Of all the readers, 3 felt the author’s strongest skill was ‘honesty’. Of all the readers, 8 felt the author’s strongest skill was ‘writing style’. 16 felt the pacing was good or excellent. 17 thought the author understood the readership and what they wanted.
Readers’ Comments “Although this is a deep and often moving story, it's funny in parts too. In this well-crafted memoir, the author charts her complicated relationship with her mother. I felt sad reading parts of it, but there was always an underlining theme of hope. Very enjoyable.” Female reader, age 34 “Firstly, although I felt the cover lacked pow, the title is superb, pulling me into the author’s story. This is an excellent autobiography highlighting how flawed parents are even when we thought they were so perfect. Intimately and honestly written, this will appeal to anybody who has an up and down relationship with a parent - which, I guess, is pretty much everybody!” Female reader, age 49 “Parents, I find, can be difficult at the best of times. What a fabulous read with a fabulous title. I felt I really got to know the author whilst reading this - and the people who have filled her life.” Female reader, age 41 “Tragic in parts, hilariously funny in others, this is a compelling memoir written by an author who has excellent writing skills. If she ever writes a novel, I'll be buying it.” Female reader, age 69
To Sum It Up: ‘A superbly written memoir charting the ups and downs of a mother and daughter relationship. A FINALIST and highly recommended!’ The Wishing Shelf Book Awards
I read this book with interest because in it I saw the repetition of behaviors, from generation to generation, that happen despite the subsequent generation’s best efforts. The stories were told with integrity and realism. I found myself rooting for each generation, hoping they would be successful in overcoming their childhood experiences. Satisfying to the end, though alternatingly sad and funny, this family history is told with the insight only a member of the family could disclose. Well worth the time to read.
Where Are the Grown-Ups is a deeply personal and beautifully crafted memoir that lingers long after the final page. Ruth Badley writes with emotional clarity and compassion as she explores the fractured relationship with her mother and the generational secrets that shaped her family. I was struck by the honesty in her storytelling, there’s no sensationalism, just a sincere attempt to understand and heal.
As a devoted reader, I want you to know, Where Are the Grown Ups didn’t just tell a story; it gave me a mirror. I found myself in the pauses, the unspoken words, the aching questions between mother and daughter. Your memoir held my heart gently, and reminded me that even in silence, love tries to speak.
Our group sat around the table and found ourselves whispering like confidantes as we shared what this memoir stirred in us. Ruth’s honesty made us reflect on our own mothers and daughters. It was more than reading, it was a collective remembering. She should be proud; her story invited us to open ours
Your memoir felt like a quiet conversation with someone who gets it. The way you explored memory, grief, and motherhood, it was like watching emotions unfold in real time. As a reader who treasures truth over polish, thank you for choosing honesty over perfection. I’m deeply grateful.
I didn’t expect to be moved in the way I was. As someone who’s still making peace with parts of my own childhood, your words brought comfort and clarity. You wrote with such grace and emotional bravery. Thank you for letting beloved readers like me walk that journey with you.
I read your story slowly because every sentence felt like it deserved to breathe. You made me feel like I wasn’t alone in wondering about the past or carrying questions that might never be answered. Where Are the Grown Ups is more than a memoir, it’s a soft place for others to land.
I carry books like yours in my heart. The kind that don’t scream to be noticed but quietly change you from the inside out. Your story reminded me that healing isn’t always loud. Thank you for writing the kind of truth beloved readers like me hold on to.
There’s a rare kind of beauty in writing that feels both deeply personal and entirely universal. That’s what your book did for me. As one of your many beloved readers, I felt seen and understood. It’s a story I’ll revisit not just read and forget.
From one daughter to another thank you. Your reflections helped me reframe my own. I laughed, teared up, and kept pausing to underline lines I knew I’d come back to. This isn’t just your story it now feels like part of mine too.
There are books you enjoy, and then there are books you carry. Where Are the Grown Ups is something I’ll carry. It reminded me of the fragility in relationships, the beauty in memory, and the courage it takes to share it all. You gave your readers a treasure.
I felt like you opened the door to your heart and let me walk right in. Every page had me leaning closer, not just to read, but to feel. Thank you for reminding me that family history isn’t just dates and facts it’s love, loss, and unspoken truths.
As someone who’s also searched for pieces of my family history, I felt this book in my bones. You made me remember that the answers we find are sometimes as important as the questions we never thought to ask
I don’t just feel like I read your memoir I feel like I lived it alongside you. You captured the complicated tenderness between mothers and daughters in a way that made me cry and smile at the same time.
We rarely come across a book that sparks both laughter and tears in the same evening. Ruth’s memoir did just that. Her gift is in telling the truth with tenderness, and our club kept returning to her courage in laying bare generational secrets. We all agreed this is a book that lingers.
What touched us most was how Ruth captured the imperfection of parents with compassion. Around our discussion, every woman admitted recognizing parts of her own family. It takes a brave writer to shine a light on what many of us quietly carry, and Ruth did it with beauty.
This book reminded us that memoir can be as gripping as fiction. We turned pages wondering what Sylvia’s story would reveal, and what the daughter would discover. In the end, Ruth gave us not only her history, but also a mirror to our own. We were deeply moved.
Our club described this memoir as a tapestry threads of humor, sorrow, memory, and resilience woven together. Ruth’s words honored not just her family but countless untold stories of mothers and daughters. She has written something truly timeless.
What a generous gift Ruth has given her readers. Her vulnerability made our book club feel connected, not only to her but to one another. We left our meeting with tears in our eyes and gratitude in our hearts. This is writing at its most human