reviews – Maddie Grigg

September reviews

I’ve been a bit lax lately when it comes to reading books, being so caught up in promoting my own. (In case you didn’t know, Plashy Fen comes out in paperback on 29 September. As you can imagine, I’m very excited.)

I had been reading a doorstep of a novel, The Year of the Locust (2023) by Terry Hayes, and was finding it very easy to sink into its short chapters and fast pace.

However, I’m about an eighth of the way in and have decided to quit while I’m ahead. I don’t feel much engaged with the protagonist and there is more to life than ploughing through a big book just for the sake of it.

This spy thriller, published in 2023 is more up Mr Grigg’s street than mine, which is what I initially thought about Hayes’ debut I Am Pilgrim (2013) before I picked it up at a book swap a few years ago.

I couldn’t put it down, it was gripping.

My well-read friend, The Fragrant Mrs Putter, told me she felt the same, so I was in good company.

It still hasn’t been made into a film yet, which I find astonishing, although there are references online to Pilgrim being in production.

I’m about to embark on The Cuckoo and the Cuckquean (2025) by Patricia Román. The novel is about Spanish Suffragettes – a new subject for me, but it’s good to move out of one’s comfort zone every now and then.

I finally read Michael Palin’s Hemingway Adventure (1999) as part of research into one of my family stories and, although I still don’t very much like Hemingway as a man, it confirmed my view of Palin as an extremely engaging and talented writer.

While I haven’t been reading, I have been listening to quite a few podcasts.

I’m hooked on both the UK and the US versions of Goalhanger’s The Rest Is Politics, which are such ear openers when it comes to staying informed about the corridors of power and the strange things happening on planet Earth right now.

The BBC’s Disclosure Investigates series are really good. I’ve listened to two standout documentaries – Charmain And The Prophet {2026) and Matched With A Predator (2025). The programmes’ common link is the horrendous consequences of controlling behaviour by men over women.

To provide some light in the darkness, I’ve also watched The Magic Faraway Tree (2026), ostensibly a children’s film based on the book of the same name by Enid Blyton.

It was beautifully done, and so, so enjoyable, with the original story updated but still with a glorious, life-affirming fantasy at its heart.

Fearing I might have gone a bit soft in my old age, I looked up the reviews afterwards to see if the critics agreed with my verdict. They did, wholeheartedly.

We’ve also binge watched Last Tango In Halifax (2012-2020, BBC) – great, character-led drama which is down to the brilliant script of the show’s creator, Sally Wainwright, and the superb cast.

Now starting, rather late in the day, on Ted Lasso (2020-present, Apple TV) and enjoying it immensely.

Can’t wait for the new series of the BBC’s Small Prophets (2026) to appear on our television screens. And with Slow Horses (2022-present, Apple TV) flying out of the traps, telly just got a whole lot better.

February book reviews

I’ve not done very well with books this month. This is a shame because the weather outside is frightful and there’s nothing better than curling up with a good book when the rain is lashing against the windows.

There were two novels I abandoned after a couple of chapters and then a three-star which was all right, but not that enjoyable.

However, there is one stand-out book for me and I’m still reading it. It’s A Private Man by Stephanie Sy-Quia, due to be published in April. I didn’t expect it to be my thing at all, but it’s captivating. I’ll reveal more in next month’s reviews.

Being a reviewer for NetGalley is a real privilege. Especially when I go into a book shop and see all these titles I’ve already read, such as The Wardrobe Department *** by Elaine Garvey, Three Days in June **** by Anne Tyler, The Boy From The Sea **** by Garrett Carr and The Book of Doors **** by Gareth Brown.

One of my next reads will be the new novel by Elizabeth Strout, the author of Olive Kitteridge. But I have a few more to get through first, including my first purchase in a long time, Rogue Male by Geoffrey Household, published in 1939 and set around these parts, yet I’ve never read it.

In 1976, it was made into a television film starring Peter O’Toole.

And there has been talk that British actor Benedict Cumberbatch has his eye on the lead role in another film adaptation, although it’s all been a bit quiet of late.

Anyway, here’s my one and only book review for February.

Where The Truth Lies by Katherine Greene ***

Publication date: 24 March 2026

A murder rocks a small community in southern USA and threatents to blow apart the impending marraige of Rhett and Lucinda and their future happiness together. We think we know who did it and what and why it happened, but do we?

There are twists and turns galore in this thriller/whodunnit/domestic drama and I did not see the end coming. The story is told from various viewpoints, including the voice of the murdered woman, a device I always find difficult to take on board because how can she tell a story in the first person, past tense, when she’s dead?

I also didn’t much like any of the characters through which the tale unfolded.

Anyway, that aside, this was a tense and generally fast-paced novel which would be an ideal basis for a Netflix adaptation in the Harlan Coben mould.

Book Corner

I have the good fortune to be a reviewer for NetGalley, a website which distributes advance reader copies of books to hundreds of thousands of members in exchange for honest reviews.

I was introduced to it by a friend in Lush Places, who insisted it would be for me after we started reviewing books from the village phone box library during lockdown.

It was too much hassle at first, but she kept on at me until I signed up and requested my first book. Thank you, Vikki!

Several years on, I’m now getting some amazing (free) downloads for my Kindle. The more books you review online, the more likely you’ll be approved for books in your favourite genres.

I share my reviews on the Goodreads platform or here on this blog.

I don’t very often award five stars but I’ve had some absolute corkers recently. Here are a couple of novels to look out for (both books are available to pre-order):

You Are Here by David Nicholls (due to be published by Sceptre 23 April 2024).

I was very excited to be approved for the latest David Nicholls novel. It didn’t disappoint. I didn’t want it to end, although I did, to find out what happened.

Michael and Marnie are two single strangers approaching middle age, living lonely, separate lives, north and south of the country. Michael is a geography teacher, obsessed with geology and his broken relationship with his beloved ex. Marnie is a self-employed, self-taught book editor who is finding her way after divorcing her entirely unsuitable husband She is anchored to her work, her ‘cosmopolitan’ life in London and, most of all, the joys of the English language.

The two are thrown together by a mutual friend on an arduous walk across luscious countryside in the Lake District and Yorkshire Moors. As the walk progresses, and as other walkers fall by the wayside, the reader learns more about the two of them and their problematic love lives. We are willing them to get together, to reach some kind of understanding that will see them triumph, ultimately, as a couple. But the course of true love, just like a coast-to-coast walk, does not run smoothly.

Romance isn’t really my thing but I loved this novel. I loved the characters of Michael and Marnie (and most of all, Marnie, who has a kick-ass sense of humour and pedantic eye for detail).

Nicholls’ writing is seemingly effortless and a joy to read. Tender moments are captured with humour and clarity. There are laugh out loud moments and I imagined myself picturing who might play the roles when it’s adapted into a television series like his best-known novel, One Day.

The new novel has so much hope at its core, following the desperation and isolation of the covid lockdowns. I thoroughly recommend it.

The Silence Factory by Bridget Collins (expected publication by The Borough Press, May 2024).

In 1870s London, widower Henry Latimer is working in his father-in-law’s shop selling hearing aids. A mysterious customer, who owns a silk factory in the Devon town of Telverton, asks Henry to help his young daughter who has been deaf since birth. Intrigued, Henry takes up his invitation. He travels to the man’s big house in Telverton and ends up getting caught in a web of deceit, greed and enchantment.

Henry’s story is interspersed with the first person journal of a previous lady of the house, whose sojourn on a Greek island results in the discovery of spiders which spin the most incredible silk. When worked into fabric, the spider silk has a unique property that can bring calming silence or excruciating madness to those exposed to it.

I was spellbound by this novel – more so because I wasn’t expecting to like it. I had read one of Collins’ previous novels, The Binding, which I was enjoying before it started to get weird. The Silence Factory, however, is streets ahead in its storytelling, quality of writing and characterisation. If you like gothic novels, you will love this. Prepare yourself for an immersive ride. It’s definitely got big screen potential written all over it, either as a film or television series. Highly recommended.

TV, films and books

What we’re watching

We’re into the second series of Trigger Point (ITV) and absolutely hooked.

Vicky McClure is mesmerising in this drama about a police bomb disposal team in London. As Lana Washington, she’s cool, complicated, flawed, tormented by the past and bloody brilliant at her job.

The first series just flew by and now we’re settling down for a bumpy ride.

Hats off to creator and writer Daniel Brierley, who was mentored by Line of Duty‘s Jed Mercurio. Brierley was new to television and developed the series during a television bursary scheme.

It’s real edge of your seat stuff. Awards await.

We’ve just seen the film Napoleon, directed by Ridley Scott and starring Joaquin Phoenix as the titular character. It’s long and patchy and, a bit like the curate’s egg, good in parts.

The battle scenes, particularly the deadly icy ballet at Austerlitz and the finale at Waterloo, are choreographed to a nanosecond. They are incredible to watch (albeit, in my case, through closed fingers).

Phoenix is a compelling Napoleon, a relentless genius obsessed by power, his love for his country and the resourceful Josephine (Vanessa Kirby, who played Princess Margaret in The Crown). He’s steely, creepy and a little unhinged, like The Joker, Commodus and the Emperor of France all rolled into one.

What I’m reading

I’ve got my hands on a review copy of The Ministry of Time and I can’t put it down. I also can’t believe it’s a debut novel.

Kaliane Bradley has written a piece of fiction which cuts across genres – time travel, romance, comedy and spy thriller – and it’s a cracker. It’s out later this year.

Set in the near future, at the centre of the story is a nameless protagonist, a civil servant who has to act as a ‘bridge’ between her charge, naval officer Graham Gore, who was First Lieutenant on the Erebus during the Franklin expedition to discover the Northwest Passage, which ended in 1850 with the loss of all 129 officers and crewmen.

The book twists and turns with a style so easy to read I’ll probably finish it by the end of the week. Thanks to NetGalley for an advance review copy of the book.

Watching and listening: Slow Horses and Bad Women: The Ripper Retold

We’ve finally got around to watching Slow Horses, the Apple TV drama that everyone’s been talking about.

Set against the backdrop of the iconic London skyline, the series has just finished its third season. We’re only two episodes into that, so please don’t tell me what happens.

It’s British drama at its best. This spy thriller centres on a dysfunctional team of MI5 agents who have been thrown together because each of them has mucked up one way or another.

Heading this bunch of misfits is Gary Oldman, whose portrayal of the seedy Jackson Lamb, with greasy hair, fag hanging out of his mouth and a terrible wind problem, is masterful, especially when set against the ice queen coolness and poise of Kristin Scott Thomas as his nemesis in an A-line skirt.

The script is excellent, the characters believable and the cast superb. The series carries just the right weight of tension, comedy, gore and mystery. We’ll be very sad when we reach the end.

I’m currently listening to Bad Women: The Ripper Retold, a BBC podcast by author and historian Halle Rubenhold about the untold story of the victims in the Whitechapel murders of 1888.

I’ve always been interested in the story – who isn’t? – and remember looking through the 1888 file of my own local newspaper at the columns and columns devoted to the grisly details of these terrible crimes.

The story is known all over the world and various theories have sprung up over the years. We think we know all about it, but Rubenhold looks at it from a completely different perspective. It’s shocking, really, that this hasn’t been done before.

A few years ago I read her book, The Five, on which this podcast is based, and it was a real eye-opener. A terrific amount of research went into this work of non-fiction.

‘Ripperologists’ will tell you otherwise, but it doesn’t matter that we don’t know the identity of the murderer or probably never will. The thing that has been overlooked in this story, time and time again, are the women he killed.

In Rubenhold’s hands, they become real people, who lived and loved, with early aspirations and hopes. They married, had children. And then they fell on hard times and met a dreadful end.