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by Marion Grace Woolley
When I set about writing Those Rosy Hours at Mazandaran, I really had to confront my prejudices. Well, not exactly prejudices, more those inbuilt stereotypes you unwittingly collect from the media and your parents’ bedtime stories.
I knew Iran to be a strongly Muslim country. Living in the West, the images you get bombarded with in the media tend to be of women heavily veiled in black, not an inch of skin showing except that between their eyes.
Somehow, I knew this wasn’t the correct image for my Mazandaran, the world which I wanted to write