I’m ploughing my way through another long book, which I’m enjoying but haven’t finished yet.
It’s The Calamity Club by Kathryn Stockett, who wrote The Help. It turns out her latest novel, which has just been published, is longer than I first thought.
I’m also in the final copy edit stage of my own novel, which is being published in the autumn. Can’t say too much about it yet but I will reveal all in due course.
At the same time, I’m doing some in-depth research for a narrative non-fiction story where the ancestor I share with Ernest Hemingway will take centre stage. This is a project involving a half-circumnavigation of the world so will take a few years.
I’ve read three books this month but only one of them is worth telling you about. The other two were thrillers but not very thrilling.
Contemporary fiction (304 pages).Publication date expected 2 June 2026
A chance meeting in a New York art gallery leads the fifty-something protagonist into a myriad of memories in this quietly reflective novel about family, relationships and love.
English teacher Daphne and her husband realise the elderly man who appears to be stalking them is, in fact, her ex-stepfather, book editor Eddie Triplett, who she hasn’t seen since she was nine. The encounter sends Daphne down unexpected paths, sifting through a painful period in her childhood and a dramatic incident she’s never really talked about with anyone else since.
Her conversations and interactions with Eddie – a lovely, kind man – enable Daphne to think about her past and make sense of everything that happened all those years ago and the complex layers – and people in her life – that underpin it.
It’s an astonishing novel and Patchett is an astonishing writer, who takes something so relatively simple and transforms it into a deep and meaningful story about what it is to be loved and respected. I coldn’t put it down.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for an advance review copy of Whistler.
Three novels this month, one of which I actually bought myself rather than relying on my usual free NetGalley source.
A mixed bag in subject matter and tone but all excellent. I’ve enjoyed these books very much.
Some taut thrillers to look forward to next month, along with some highfalutin literary offerings, among them There Are Rivers In The Sky by Elif Shafak, which has been recommended by a friend.
(Literary fiction, short stories – 304 pages. First published 31 March 2026)
A collection of short stories of varying lengths from Colm Tobin is worth several hours of anyone’s time.
He writes so beautifully about life, love and families in a way that few authors can manage to pull off – no obvious plot, with beginning, middle and end, just a very satisfying insight into the lives and worlds of the people he inhabits.
Thoughtful, nuanced and unputdownable. It felt like I was eavesdropping on private conversations, getting to know more and more about the main character and those around them as I read on.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for a copy of this lovely book.
Forty-something orphan Kendal Tudge, down on her luck and out of sync with working life in London, inherits a flat by the sea in Dorset.
Could a move down to the Jurassic Coast be the answer to all her (many) prayers? It could be – but there’s one big problem. Her late Uncle Clem’s home is a warden-controlled flat and residents have to be over sixty to live there.
So when she decides to lie about her age, Kendal’s transformative journey begins. Can she shed her irresponsible, intolerant and hedonistic skin to become a better person and live in contentment alongside her older peers?
Or will she be found out and castigated for her deceit?
Throw in a good looking warden by the name of Gary, some eccentric neighbours and new-found friends, this rom-com will have you laughing out loud and rooting for Kendal all the way.
I’m a bit biased, because I know the author, but this debut novel deserves to be read more widely. Heck, it could even become a great little television series, with Kendal Tudge as the unlikely heroine.
A well-written and ingeniously plotted debut. Let’s hope there’s much more to come.
(Literary fiction – 224 pages. Expected publication 5 May 2026)
I am hugely in love with Elizabeth Strout and her style of writing. I adored Olive Kitteridge and Olive Again although I was not so keen on Lucy Barton until the pandemic when along came Lucy By The Sea.
Her latest novel, The Things We Never Say, introuces us to Artie Dam, a thoughful, kind and decent history teacher in his late fifties. Artie is married with one-grown up son. He is popular (in the main) with his students but finds himself increasingly out of step with a baffling world and the people around him.
Artie makes a devastating, personal discovery, having already felt, intuitively, that things are off with his life.
Set against a backdrop of divisive and an unbelievable direction in US politics, The Things We Never Say is bang up-to-date, with fears for the future and bafflement at how the world has got to where it is.
Strout writes quietly, yet beautifully, about melancholic situations which often lie beneath the veneer of ordinary, everday life in a small town.
The Things We Never Say reminded me of Stoner, the 1965 novel by John Williams – deep and impactful and with a quiet, unassuming teacher at its heart.
For me, this is Strout’s best novel yet.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for an advance review copy of this novel. It will stay with me for a long time.
Two standout books this month, a pretty good one and two stinkers.
I won’t be reviewing that last pair here – they have a connection in that they are just far too long. I don’t mind 600 pages when the story and characters are compelling but get bored when the writer takes ages to get to the point while all along the way trying to impress the reader with style over content.
I admit to having the attention span of a goldfish. The sweet spot for me is around the 300-page mark, but I’m not averse to an immersive, long novel, such as The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt (771 pages), Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver (560) and The Dovekeepersby Alice Hoffman (504).
How about you?
This month, as well as putting page length under each title, I’m taking a leaf out of the blog, Is This Mutton, by one of my oldest friends, and classifying the book according to genre.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for advance review copies of these novels.
I’m hoping for good things next month, with Elizabeth Strout, Colm Tobin and Ann Patchett on my to-be-read pile.
(Literary, historical fiction, 284 pages. Expected publication 26 March 2026)
After reading A Place Called Winter several years ago, I wondered what might have happened to the central character, Harry Cane. He was the young man shunned by his family for his homosexuality and exiled to the Canadian prairies from Edwardian England to make a new life for himself.
Love Lane revisits Harry as an older man, who, cruelly, has to head back home after a lifetime in Canada and now, in effect, exiled to England.
You don’t need to have read the first book to enjoy this sequel but I think it probably helps.
Harry is now older and wiser and, back in England, meets his daughter, her husband and grandchildren.
Through their stories, we get to know more about life before and after the Second World War and the social hardships faced by the characters. Theirs are ordinary lives, but there is no such thing as ‘ordinary’, everyone has a story to tell, secrets to keep or confide in others.
Patrick Gale writes beautifully and Love Lane does not disappoint. This is a gentle story of heartbreak, horror, love and the bonds that bind families together.
The novel centres around one day in the life of a young mother of two. But it’s not just any day – it’s the last one before she goes back to her job after maternity leave.
Our heroine decides to make it a special day for the children – precocious Felix, aged four, and his baby brother, Rudy. However, all is not sweetness and light and the day deteriorates almost as soon as it starts, especially as she finds a female ‘item’ in her husband’s bag which is not hers.
She battles through the day alone, because he is working away, and everything seems to go wrong. She wants it to be a lovely day for both of her children but reality strikes, over and over again.
Some very funny scenes in this novel, especially the struggles in a corner shop with a double buggy and storytime in the local library.
The book will appeal to all parents – especially to mothers of children who were born close together but are now perhaps a bit older and don’t require the constant supervision and stimulation needed for younger ones.
I think if you have children of this age, the frustration and difficulties could be too raw and just hit home a little too hard.
Well written, funny, with a likeable central character who bears the guilt of working mothers everywhere and trying to do the right thing for her children.
(Literary, historical fiction – 288 pages. Publication date 14 April 2026)
This is an extraordinary novel. I didn’t expect to enjoy it but I was completely hooked by the characters’s journey and the quality of the writing.
Based on the true story of the author’s grandparents, the novel is about David, a handsome Catholic priest, and Margaret, a progressive theology teacher, who find themselves falling in love.
It’s a slow-burning, intense novel but beautifully written, particularly the later parts where they ‘find’ each other and the sections where Margaret is remembering, through the haze of old age and dementia, her past life.
The two main characters are very well drawn and we empathise with them in their struggle against forbidden love. There were stories from David’s public school background which were truly heartbreaking.
This was a tender, sensitve and terrific story. I would have given it five stars but felt perhaps the in-depth research was a little intrusive and felt slightly forced during their many conversations.
Years ago, I was shortlisted for a poem in the internationally-acclaimed Bridport Prize competition.
To be honest, it wasn’t very good but it was a pleasing accomplishment because poems aren’t really my thing. This is probably because, despite studying them quite closely, I find them tricky to analyse, decipher and I always get a bit flustered with the rules.
It’s silly really, because I love the poetry in many song lyrics – I’m thinking Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, Ian Dury. I adore those lines in National Express by the Divine Comedy about the jolly hostess and her large behind…
Here’s one of my favourite Joni Mitchell numbers.
If that isn’t poetry, I don’t know what is.
I think perhaps it’s because I’ve studied poetry closely for a creative writing degree that it’s reinforced my natural – and lazy -resistance to anything that requires me to think rather than just imbibe through natural osmosis.
So I need to cast off the hang-ups and fear of getting it wrong and just enjoy poetry for its lyricism, rhythm, cadence and imagery. I should just go with the flow and embrace the sheer joy and beauty in hearing or reading a great poem.
So, on World Poetry Day, tell me – what are your favourite poems?
I like the Spike Milligan one about the worm:
Today I saw a little worm, wriggling on his belly.Perhaps he’d like to come inside and see what’s on the telly.
Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths, Enwrought with golden and silver light, The blue and the dim and the dark cloths Of night and light and the half-light, I would spread the cloths under your feet: But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
But come to think of it, my favourite poem is Ithaka by Greek poet C P Cavafy. I saw somewhere that it was read at Jackie Kennedy’s funeral in May 1994.
Here it is read by the wonderful Sean Connery with music by Greece’s own Vangelis. Cheesy but profound.
As a columnist for The People’s Friend, I was asked to contribute to a feature about World Book Day.
The Friend, the world’s longest-running weekly magazine for women, is supporting the National Year of Reading campaign and did I have a favourite children’s book I’d like to share?
The idea of entering new lands through the portal of an ordinary piece of bedroom furniture was pure magic. I’m still convinced Narnia was modelled on my part of Dorset.
Sadly, another contributor had already chosen that book, so I had to come up with another.
As the youngest of five, I had free access to books handed down by my older siblings. My mother also took me to the town library every few weeks, as a reward for visiting an elderly great-aunt who lived in dark rooms behind a shop in the main street.
Enid Blyton’s Tales of Long Ago fuelled my interest in ancient mythology, particularly the Greek stories.
I loved The Hobbit and still have a ragged copy I received for a prize at school speech day. The little person embarking on a perilous journey, triumphing and returning home to the easy comfort of the Shire.
Anything that took me to magic lands, like Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (1865) by Lewis Carroll, and The Water Babies by Charles Kingsley (1863). Mrs Do-As-You-Would-Be-Done-By is still, for me, the most influential character in the history of children’s literature.
But, of all the books I’d read as a child, which one inspired me the most?
And then it came to me.
There it was in the glass-fronted cupboard, sitting next to its sequel.
A hardback book called Clover Magic (1955) by Victoria Stevenson and sumptous illustrations by Pauline Baynes, an artist who became well known for her cover illustrations for The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, and for her map of Middle Earth.
It’s a children’s time travel story in which, with the help of Fairy Queen Titania and a four-leaf clover, two young sisters meet great women of English history, including Boadicea, Elizabeth Fry and Florence Nightingale.
A few years ago, I found a copy of this book online so I snapped it up, along with its sequel, The Magic Footstool.
It’s a book I treasure and, looking at it now, I realise it sparked my interest in history and the role of strong women through the ages.
So, if you had to choose one book from your childhood, which one would it be and why?
Maddie Grigg 