The List of Suspicious Things by Jennie Godfrey

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The List of Suspicious Things by Jennie Godfrey

Published by Hutchinson Heinemann on February 15th

What They Say

Maggie Thatcher is prime minister, drainpipe jeans are in, and Miv is convinced that her dad wants to move their family Down South.

Because of the murders.

Leaving Yorkshire and her best friend Sharon simply isn’t an option, no matter the dangers lurking round their way; or the strangeness at home that started the day Miv’s mum stopped talking.
Perhaps if she could solve the case of the disappearing women, they could stay after all?

So, Miv and Sharon decide to make a list: a list of all the suspicious people and things down their street. People they know. People they don’t.

But their search for the truth reveals more secrets in their neighbourhood, within their families – and between each other – than they ever thought possible.

What if the real mystery Miv needs to solve is the one that lies much closer to home?

What I Say

It is always brilliant to be able to review books by authors that you have met and become friends with on social media, which is quite ironic, considering that in The List of Suspicious Things we are firmly in a world way before anyone even knew what a mobile phone or Twitter is!

I had been chatting to Jennie for while – usually about all the fabulous books we have been reading, and sharing recent recommendations of books we loved. When I was offered a copy of Jennie’s debut novel to read and review, honestly, I was more than a little nervous – it is a Radio 2 Book Club pick, and already there have been so many wonderful reviews, that there is always the worry that I might not love it.

Once I started reading The List of Suspicious Things, I just knew that I was reading something really special.

Miv, and her best friend Sharon are growing up in the late 70s. Margaret Thatcher is Prime Minister, and The Yorkshire Ripper dominates every news story and headline. Miv lives with her Mum and Dad and Aunty Jean. Her Mum keeps herself to herself, often in her bedroom and then disappears from their house for periods of time, with no one really explaining to Miv what is happening.

Miv’s Dad seems unsettled and not himself, and decides that maybe the best thing for the family is to move down South away from The Yorkshire Ripper and all the uncertainty and unrest around them. Miv is devastated and doesn’t want to move away, so the solution to her is perfectly clear – if she can discover who The Yorkshire Ripper is, she can stay here, with her best friend Sharon and nothing has to change.

Sharon agrees to help, and as Miv pours over the newspapers and listens to news about The Yorkshire Ripper, she decides that she and Sharon have to investigate anyone who fits any part of the profile. This is a brilliant way to change the narrative, because this opens up Miv and Sharon’s world for us to meet the people in their community who make their list, but also shows us that what we have always known is true – that appearances can be deceptive, and you never really know what goes on behind closed doors.

As Miv and Sharon investigate the people and things they have hunches about, we are introduced to a range of characters – amongst them there is Omar who runs the local shop and his son Ishtiaq, Helen and Gary Andrews who seem to be a happily married couple, and Arthur, who is Helen’s Dad and dealing with the death of his wife.

Jennie’s writing harks back to a time when all our lives were contained in the small world of the streets and places and people we knew so well, and we were reliant on who had seen and heard what to find out what was happening. Yet it has to be said that this is not a cosy, uncomplicated and innocent novel, mired in nostalgia and a rose tinted view of life.

The List of Suspicious Things is also a novel that unflinchingly shows a world where there is racism, domestic violence, mental health issues and marital affairs. This is a world presented to us through the eyes of children, who see and hear these things, but do not fully understand the intricacies and realities of what they are party to. Their innocence and seeming naivety presents us with a different view of the world, whereas we as readers, and the adults in the story bring our own experiences and knowledge of the realities of what the children are actually going through.

This is such a layered and nuanced novel that deals with so many things in one book, all executed effortlessly. Undoubtedly the main focus of the novel is the project that Miv and Sharon are undertaking, as to whether they can find the true identity of The Yorkshire Ripper, but this is not singularly why this is such an unforgettable book.

What makes this book so compelling for me to read is the portrayal of family life and the wider community, in all its shapes and forms. I felt that Jennie absolutely understood all her characters and their voices are clear and distinct. You get a real sense of place and time without it being something that detracts from the plot, and it makes the book feel anchored and authentic. Miv is such a brilliant protagonist, fearless and questioning and also aware that her family life is not like other people’s. Her relationship with her Mum is genuinely heartbreaking. – she knows what it should look like, and there are little moments in the book that shows us how much Miv understands that whatever happens her Mum is still there, trying to find a way back to being the Mum Miv needs. Miv is undoubtedly the pivotal character in this novel, and it is her relationships with the people around her that makes this such a compelling story.

In becoming part of Miv and Sharon’s world, we are also looking back at a time that some of us can remember clearly – that sense of growing up in a world where human connection was part of our everyday lives, with no phones or social media to colour our opinions. Our world at that time went as far as the streets around us, the neighbours we knew and the conversations we heard. The List of Suspicious Things is an unforgettable book that perfectly articulates what it meant to be a child at that time, and in doing so may make us realise how far we have come, but also how much we have lost in terms of having that close community around us.

Do Miv and Sharon find out who The Yorkshire Ripper was? Of course I am not going to tell you, you need to read it. One thing is certain though, that I promise after reading The List Of Suspicious Things, Miv and Sharon will always have a place in your heart.

I absolutely loved it.

Thank you so much to Hutchinson Heinemann for my proof copy.

Thank Goodness for Books

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Ever since I decided last year not to do a Best Books of the Year thing, I have been thinking a lot about what I wanted my final blog post of 2023 to look like. I am genuinely too knackered to think of anything witty and erudite to say (that’s the joy of full time unpaid caring for you), but I am just awake enough to say that this year I felt like there was some undefinable shift for book bloggers.

Possibly it is because Twitter has felt very different over the past year – a lot like shouting into the void as you endlessly try and tell people that the books you are trying to shout about are really good and you know that so many of you would love it – if only you were able to reach them. Instagram has me baffled constantly, and at 53 I am not enthusiastic enough to do reels and feel too embarrassed to start lip syncing to songs while remembering to hold my book the right way round, so I guess posting pictures of my books against the white of my dining room wall will have to do.

There is absolutely no doubt that the bookish community is as strong and supportive as ever, but I know that lots of us are all having conversations about how different it feels at the moment – something we can’t quite put our fingers on, but I know lots of us feel it.

As always, this is just my opinion, and as always for me writing about how I am feeling helps me to process and understand it – well at least a little. I have been blogging since 2017, and this is the first year, as I have said before that I found this the most personally challenging in terms of caring and book blogging yet.

Not only have I been trying to juggle full time caring, dealing with all the stresses and pressures that brings – no sick days, no breaks and loneliness and isolation like I have never experienced, but also trying to not let down the publicists and publishers by making sure I read and reviewed the books I had promised to do, as well as keeping Years Of Caring going. This proved to be really challenging because ironically I was so busy caring for Eldest Years of Reading that I found it really hard to make the time to read the books and ask authors to be involved!

Anyway, I think what I am trying to say (not very well, so thank you for sticking with me so far!) is that 2023 has made me realise many things, and perhaps most of all how you have to be kind to yourself and accept that sometimes life means that you can’t read lots of books, or as much as you like, and that you absolutely shouldn’t feel guilty about it.

Reading should be a pleasure, a joy, something that gives you that real physical sensation of connection to a book and the words on the pages. Whatever you read, whenever you read, whether it be one page, one chapter or one hundred pages it is your chance to be somewhere else, on your own, even for just a little while. This year, this has meant more to me than I can explain, and having to accept that reading has to fit into my life rather that my life has to fit into my reading schedule has felt like an enormous weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

So I think the one piece of advice I am trying pass on is to remember how much you love reading. Why out of all the things you could be doing, that picking up a book is what you choose to do. How much you love finding yourself in new worlds, losing yourself for a while, that amazing feeling of joy and wonder that comes when you love a book and want everyone you know to read it too. We all read, loved and recommmended books way before we used social media to tell everyone about them, and I know I need to remind myself of that too.

Reading is a way to start conversations, to make friends, to read books that you never would have picked up, to find solace, comfort and joy. The right book at the right time can make you look at the world in a whole new way, and there is nothing like it when you find an author you love with a whole backlist for you to devour. Don’t ever feel embarrassed about telling an author how much you love their writing either, because it means the world to them to know how much their words mean to you.

It can be very easy to feel at times that your bookish worth is measured by how many books you have read, or how fast you can get through them, but honestly, maybe the best judge of it is being able to simply say – do you know what, I read some brilliant books this year, and it doesn’t matter if it is two or two hundred.

I guess what I am trying to say is that no matter how challenging 2023 has been, there have been two constants that have helped make it better – brilliant books and truly brilliant bookish friends, and for that I am and will always be forever grateful to all of you.

Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year,

Lots of love,

Clare

xxx

Keep Caring and Carry On

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Reading Aloud Margery and the Boys by William Hutchison

It’s funny how time runs away with you when you are completely unaware and before you know it, it’s November, and Christmas and the New Year are in view.

I have noticed this year that for me, there have been massive changes both personally – the caring element has really taken over my life to be honest, and also I guess professionally – although I don’t know if I can really call my blogging that.

All I know as we come to the end of the year that things ain’t what they used to be, and I was feeling kind of confused about it all.

I have been shouting about books for a long time, and I love reading and talking about books, and it’s still the best feeling when someone contacts you to say that they read a book you recommended and they loved it. It’s really hard not to recommend another twenty to them, but you feel that you must be doing something right!

This year more than ever, there has been a wide range and numerous discussions and posts about book blogging, and with Twitter (still won’t call it X) changing all the time and Instagram having a fine old time monkeying around with that wonderful algorithm, lots of us are scratching our heads about how we can best get the word out about books we love to fellow readers.

A wise woman (thank you @bookishchat!) told me that when you have read and reviewed a book that you should feel that your part is done and that you should move on to the next book. I was getting really caught up in worrying about no one seeing or liking or sharing my posts, but honestly. I think you will never beat the algorithms and you have to post and move on, and hope that someone picks up a book that you have recommended.

For me, this year, this has been brought even more into focus by the fact that the demands on myself as a carer have increased massively. It has been hard, but I have had to admit that I can’t spend so much time writing reviews and thinking of lots of different ways to talk about books. Being involved with the Curae prize and being fortunate enough to meet the incredible writers who have contributed to it has made me really think about what I am doing and where to go from here.

My day is probably different to many of yours, and in fact my life is too. If you had told me twenty two years ago that I would be looking full time after my adult son, that I would have to give up my career, lots of things I took for granted that I would be doing, lots of my dreams, some friends, some family, holidays, nights out with my husband, having friends over, having weekends away, being able to just walk out of the house to go for a walk, or even be able to go into another room and have five minutes to myself, having a lie in, and all the other things that many people do without a second thought – I wouldn’t have believed you.

Yet here I am.

There are currently around 10 million unpaid carers in the U.K. according to Carers UK 2022 Research Data. You may be one, have been one, you may know one – or lots, and honestly – one day it’s likely you may find yourself as one. You may have known the day was coming, or it could come completely out of the blue, but one thing is certain. Your life will be very different, and for me, this year especially, I knew that in order to keep going, I needed to have something to let me be me – even if for only ten minutes.

Reading is always and has always been the very thing that I turn to, but this year has been hectic and full on, and trying to read and blog alongside trying to do everything else has made me feel that 2023 should really be my last year of Years of Reading Selfishly.

Yet something kept me from deleting my accounts and stopping reviewing.

Quite simply, it was the realisation that without that focus, that part of my life that I don’t know what I would do with my days, apart from look after my son and do housework and watch telly, and that’s not enough for me. It never was.

Starting my Years Of Caring project may be a very small fish in a huge pond, but knowing that I am making sure unpaid carers voices are heard, and that people are realising they are carers as a result of hearing others talk about it has just been incredible for me, and I have made some brilliant friends as a result.

It has also made me realise and acknowledge that reading and blogging is not, and should never be a competition. It’s about finding that joy and peace in those moments, be they languishing or snatched, that for that time it’s just you and the words on the page, and that you are transported away from your world if only for a little while. We all started our bookish accounts because we loved reading and shouting about books, and it’s too easy to get caught up in the misconception that if your posts aren’t liked or shared that it somehow means you have failed. We all read and talked and recommended books long before we dipped our toes in the social media sea, and sometimes I think I forget that.

Life is too short to read books you don’t love – and for me I have realised that life is also too short to believe that likes and shares somehow validate you as a reader or blogger. Once I realised that, suddenly all that matters is knowing that I am going to keep talking about and recommending books – however and whenever that works for me.

73 Dove Street by Julie Owen Moylan

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73 Dove Street by Julie Owen Moylan

Published by Penguin Michael Joseph

What They Say


When Edie Budd arrives at a shabby West London boarding house in October 1958, carrying nothing except a broken suitcase and an envelope full of cash, it’s clear she’s hiding a terrible secret.

And she’s not the only one; the other women of 73 Dove Street have secrets of their own . . .

Tommie, who lives on the second floor, waits on the eccentric Mrs Vee by day. After dark, she harbours an addiction to seedy Soho nightlife – and a man she can’t quit.

Phyllis, 73 Dove Street’s formidable landlady, has set fire to her husband’s belongings after discovering a heart-breaking betrayal – yet her fierce bravado hides a past she doesn’t want to talk about.

At first, the three women keep to themselves.

But as Edie’s past catches up with her, Tommie becomes caught in her web of lies – forcing her to make a decision that will change everything . . .

What I Say

Sometimes in life there are things you can control and things you can’t. When Amanda (@bookishchat) and I read That Green Eyed Girl back in 2022 we knew straight away that we wanted to feature Julie and her brilliant novel on our joint bookish channel Two Fond of Books, because we knew how many people would love it.

We were right, and as soon as we heard that Julie had a second novel coming out called 73 Dove Street, it was without question that we wanted to ask Julie back to Two Fond so we could celebrate the publication and shout about it as much as we could.

What we didn’t anticipate was that personal circumstances would throw us both a huge curve ball, and we would have to take the difficult decision to end Two Fond of Books before we could have the chance to celebrate Julie and 73 Dove Street.

The last few months have been challenging for me to say the least, for reasons that are not important here, but I always knew that I wanted to read 73 Dove Street when I could really stop and savour every page.

I am so glad I picked it up, and so glad I waited til now to read it, because it is a novel that you will be absolutely and totally immersed in from the very first page.

When Edie first arrives at 73 Dove Street clutching her battered cardboard suitcase, it is very clear to us that she is running from something and someone, and that she needs a place to stay so she can disappear for a while. As Edie’s dual narrative unfurls, we see how Edie’s relationship with her husband Frank goes from a seemingly loving one to a world where Frank controls every aspect of her life, and starts to physically and emotionally abuse her.

As Phyllis, the landlady of 73 Dove Street is dealing with her own marital breakdown after her husband Terry cheated on her with one of the tenants, letting Edie have the attic room works for her, and Edie’s appearance is a timely solution to her need for a new lodger. Phyllis is aware of how she is getting older, and becoming invisible to the world, and as her world slowly unravels, we start to understand how the devastating events of the past have shaped her world and her place in it.

Tommie who lives there already seems to be confident and assured – working for Mrs Vee in her huge Bayswater House by day, and at night living life to the fullest. Yet we also see how Tommie is attracted to a man who simply sees her as a commodity to be picked up and put down as he wants – and she can’t see how he will never want anything more from her.

Let’s get two things straight from the start. Julie Owen Moylan has written a novel that puts you right into the heart of 1950’s London. The sights, sounds, description and domestic detail that permeate every page of this story bring this world so vividly to life, and it feels utterly authentic.

The other thing is is that Julie totally understands women and what it meant to be a women at that time. In another writer’s hands, Edie, Tommie and Phyllis could have been paper thin stereotypes, but Julie’s pitch perfect characterisations mean that these women resonate so deeply with us as readers because they are authentic, vulnerable and flawed.

73 Dove Street is a nuanced and intelligent novel, which for me shows how much Julie absolutely understands her characters and also the people who are reading her words. Julie is not afraid to show that life is often not straightforward and that neat and tidy solutions to life’s problems are not always what happens, however much we would like them to be.

Each of the women has undoubtedly been through things in their lives, and what makes them resonate with us is that in 2023 we still recognise that these issues are still prevalent today. Edie, Tommie and Phyllis are women who may be dealing with significantly different things in their lives, but they are united by two things. The painful and difficult awareness of where they are in their lives and how they got there, and the eventual realisation that it is within them to be the catalyst they need to be to make sure that the next part of their lives is going to be entirely in their control. They just have to understand that they need to have the courage to embrace and acknowledge it.

I absolutely loved it.

Thank you so much to Livvi Thomas and Penguin Michael Joseph for my proof copy.

The Stargazers by Harriet Evans

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The Stargazers by Harriet Evans

Published by Headline on 14th September

Available from All Good Bookshops

What They Say

‘Don’t you think there should be a name for people like us?’ he said. ‘Who look up and who dream of more, who dream of escaping? Who never lose faith, no matter how hard it becomes?’

‘Stargazers,’ I said. ‘That’s what we are’

It’s the 1970s, and Sarah has spent a lifetime trying to bury memories of her childhood: the constant fear, the horror of her school days, and Fane, the vast, crumbling house that was the sole obsession of her mother, Iris, a woman as beautiful as she was cruel. Sarah’s solace has been her cello and the music that allowed her to dream, transporting her from the bleakness of those early years to her new life with her husband Daniel in their safe, if slightly chaotic, Hampstead home and with a concert career that has brought her fame and restored a sense of self.

The past, though, has a habit of creeping into the present, and as long as Sarah tries to escape, it seems the pull of her mother, Fane Hall and the secrets hidden there cannot be suppressed, threatening to unravel the fragile happiness she enjoys now. Sarah will need to travel back to Fane to confront her childhood, and search for the true meaning of home.

Deliciously absorbing and rich with character and atmosphere, The Stargazers is the story of a house, a family, and finding the strength inside yourself to carry on.

What I Say

I deliberately made sure that I started The Stargazers on a Friday, and gave myself a whole weekend to read it, because I knew from the start that this would be one of those novels that you can absolutely lose yourself in, and I wanted to savour every page.

This is a complex and thoughtful novel, in which Harriet deftly and pointedly deals with the idea of family and belonging, of what it means to be a mother when you have no idea what that is meant to look like, and learning to realise and accept that family is not always a picture perfect concept.

The novel opens with a young married couple, Daniel and Sarah, moving into an old house on The Row near Hampstead Heath. Daniel is effusive and optimistic about their new life, whereas Sarah seems more cautious and wary of the immense project this house will be for them.

As Daniel immediately ingratiates himself with his neighbours, Sarah feels more isolated, worried that her husband is more concerned with being with other people than their marriage.

Right from the start we become aware that Sarah has not had an easy life, and there are little clues that lead us to understand that to get to this point she has already endured a lot. The novel opens up into a dual timeline, focussing on her childhood with her sister Victoria and her mother Iris in the 1950’s, and her life with Daniel in the 1970’s.

Young Sarah and Victoria live with their mother Iris in a flat in Kensington, but make no mistake, this is not some safe and wonderful childhood, peppered with fond memories and a sense of comfort and calm. Iris is filled with anger and hate, seeing the children as an annoyance and a distraction and is openly abusive and neglectful towards them.

Iris is driven by the fact that she believes that they were wrongly forced to leave Fane Hall, her family home, by her Uncle Clive who is the Earl. Sarah and Victoria lived with their mother there as young children. When their grandfather died Uncle Clive inherited Fane Hall, because as a woman, Iris couldn’t. The family waits for Clive to come back to claim his estate, and Iris believes that once Uncle Clive arrives, they will all be able to live in Fane Hall as one happy family, Uncle Clive has very different ideas. When he and his wife Dotty arrive, Iris and her daughters are shunted off to a shabby flat in Kensington, and Iris is hellbent on ensuring she gets the house back – whatever the cost.

Then one day, she simply decides she is going to get Fane Hall back, and moves the girls and herself in to one of the wings. The house is in a terrible state, falling into disrepair and a far cry from its heyday, and similarly Uncle Clive is an angry and desolate old man, furious that Iris has moved back, determined to gain control of Fane Hall again.

It is only when Sarah meets a local boy nicknamed Bird Boy that she truly feels happy. Together they spend time looking after an injured barn owl called Stella that Sarah rescues, and looking up at the sky to see the stars and planets above them, that provides the peace and escape from her awful home situation that Sarah craves. From the very first moment they meet, they have an implicit understanding of each other, and their connection means they can be honest with each other – something they both can’t be in their everyday lives.

As the two adults battle for control of Fane Hall, Sarah and Victoria are forgotten and then sent off to a dilapidated boarding school where Victoria thrives, and Sarah doesn’t – until she discovers the cello, which gives her focus and distraction from her everyday life. Yet when the school bullies become involved in her cello lessons – including Victoria, Sarah’s world will change forever in ways she could never have imagined.

As we the narrative moves on, adult Sarah feels trapped by motherhood, feeling that she doesn’t know what she should be doing and is overwhelmed by it. Resentful that Daniel seems unaffected and living his life as he always has, Sarah’s love for playing the cello becomes something she can only dream of as she spends her days caught up in making sure that her two daughters and everyone else is looked after, while her own needs and desires are subsumed under the mountain of domestic chaos that is all around her.

It is only when Sarah and Daniel face an unimaginable event, that Sarah finally sees how much of a mother she is, and that her relationship with her own mother and sister has not defined her, but has in fact made her the woman she is today. With a new sense of understanding, Sarah is finally able to articulate what she needs to feel happy, and find the strength and confidence to live the life she deserves.

The Stargazers is such an emotionally rich and satisfying novel, that never feels stretched, and Harriet’s tender and masterful prose shows how connected she really is to both the characters and the ever present Fane Hall, which is not the backdrop to this story, but is instead the very beating heart of this book. This should have been the place to make Sarah and Victoria feel safe, their mother’s determination to own it means that for them their mother and Fane Hall embody everything they want to forget.

Iris is an unforgettable and unlikeable character, whose real motives for getting Fane Hall back are slowly revealed through the narrative. Although her treatment of her daughters can never be condoned, as Harriet skilfully peels back the history of this woman, as a reader you can start to understand exactly what motivates her. Her actions and intent speak for themselves, but at the same time as a reader you see a frustrated and angry woman whose whole existence is determined by getting back her house, as oppose to paying any attention to the daughters who are bewildered by the behaviour of the woman who is their mother.

Harriet absolutely understands her characters, and I loved how they were vulnerable, flawed, and all searching for the very thing that eludes them – a sense of family and home. It is only when Vic and Sarah have that distance from their mother and each other that they finally come to terms with what family means to them, and how they can navigate their own worlds in the best way they can.

I absolutely loved it.

Thank you so much to Rosie Margesson and Headline for my proof copy in exchange for an honest review.

O Brother By John Niven from Canongate Books

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O Brother By John Niven

Published by Canongate Books on 24 August

What They Say

John Niven’s little brother Gary was fearless, popular, stubborn, handsome, hilarious and sometimes terrifying. In 2010, after years of chaotic struggle against the world, he took his own life at the age of 42.

Hoping for the best while often witnessing the worst, John, his younger sister Linda and their mother, Jeanette, saw the darkest fears they had for Gary played out in drug deals, prison and bankruptcy. While his life spiralled downward and the love the Nivens’ shared was tested to its limit, John drifted into his own trouble in the music industry, a world where excess was often a marker of success.

Tracking the lives of two brothers in changing times – from illicit cans of lager in 70s sitting rooms to ecstasy in 90s raves – O Brother is a tender, affecting and often uproariously funny story. It is about the bonds of family and how we try to keep the finest of those we lose alive. It is about black sheep and what it takes to break the ties that bind. Fundamentally it is about how families survive suicide, ‘that last cry, from the saddest outpost.’

What I Say

There are different ways you come to read books – some you read as soon as they are in your house, others linger on your shelves until you find them again or you decide that it’s what you want to read at that time. O Brother had arrived at my house a couple of weeks before, and when I was trapped in my dining room with my dog and my oldest son – (long story, boring anecdote) I picked it up, started reading, and just couldn’t stop.

The story starts with John being told that his younger brother Gary is in hospital in Irvine, Ayrshire. After ringing the emergency services, telling them he had been trying to kill himself, Gary was taken to hospital. After being assessed, Gary was placed alone in a room where he attempted suicide again. He was induced into a medical coma, and the family are faced with the realisation that he may never wake up, or that if he does, the brain damage he has suffered would mean that Gary’s family would have to look after him for the rest of his life.

To understand how Gary and John’s life has come to this point, John goes back to his childhood, to tell the story of the two brothers, and later of his sister Linda, and a compelling and heartbreaking story emerges from the two seemingly very different brothers. They are inseparable when younger, both of them getting up to things that will make every parent who reads it (and every child who has done something they know they shouldn’t) wince in recognition. As the two boys grow up, it is clear that their lives will take very different paths – John into the music industry, Gary into a world that involves drug dealing and the occasional carpentry job.

Yet both men are flawed, hellbent on pleasing themselves while causing worry for those closest to them, but John eventually makes the decision to stop and change his life when he realises he is now responsible for a family. Gary meanwhile, although a father and in a relationship, can’t settle, and deals with prison and drug and mental health issues – and when offered help, doesn’t turn up for appointments. In spite of the tireless work by the mental health team, Gary repeatedly goes it alone. The relationship between the brothers and between Gary and his family becomes strained – punctuated by Gary wanting money and help from his family, and the frustrations they feel as they attempt to live their own lives, while constantly on edge, waiting for the next incident they have to get involved in.

At no point does John depict himself or his family as the saviours, the ones who sweep in and save Gary, and this is what makes this memoir even more relatable – because these are normal people dealing with an extraordinarily difficult situation. You absolutely understand how challenging and complex this was for everyone involved, and that although the family may be geographically distant, they are all united by the familial bonds that keeps them together through all the life changing events they endure.

It would also have been easy to demonise Gary, as the unreliable and unlikeable sibling, but John depicts his brother with compassion and tenderness, acknowledging that there are many sides to his brother. Gary loved being the centre of attention, and was mischievous and funny. Yet he could also be cruel, violent, and testing, demanding everyone’s time and money, and causing untold heartache for them all.

Perhaps in writing this memoir, it gave John the chance to reflect not only on the life his brother had led, but also to process his own emotions about what it means to lose someone who decides that the family you are part of is not a strong enough reason to want to live. I can’t imagine what that must be like for anyone, but in reading this book, I feel that I understand so much more about it, and can see the incredible resilience and dignity that John, his Mum and Linda have in dealing with it all.

O Brother is one of the most affecting memoirs I have ever read, ostensibly because John is talking about something that touches us all – what it means to love your family. However complicated, layered or marvellous our family is – we know it is the connections and emotional shorthand we all have, and the fact we so often take it for granted. The in jokes, the nick names, the shared memories, the mundane but necessary evenings in front of the telly, and the times when we couldn’t be closer, and those when we are far apart.

The last chapter completely broke me, and I defy anyone not to be incredibly moved by it. John perfectly captures the culmination and celebration of a life that ended too soon, and the hope that we all have, in reading O Brother, that in death, Gary could finally find the peace and comfort he could not find in life.

I absolutely loved it.

Thank you so much to Anna Frame and Canongate Books for my copy.

The End of One Chapter – and the Start of a New One?

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Like thousands of families across the UK this week, Thursday 17th August was a really important date for us. Not only because it was our 27th Wedding Anniversary (I can’t believe it either), but also because it was A level results day for Youngest Years of Reading.

When he found out his results, and he knew that he was finally going to study Sociology at Uni, which is what he had wanted for such a long time, for all of us, there was a mixture of happiness, relief, pride and exhaustion that all seemed to collide at the same time.

Now as we are organising and getting ready for him to go to University, it was only yesterday that another emotion settled into place – sadness. For nearly eighteen years he has been here, and now (quite rightly!) he is getting ready to experience the world without us. It is his time to find his way, and I want him to do it so much, but honestly, I don’t know how I feel about not having him here every day to talk with, to laugh with, to see his eyes rolling at my bad jokes or the embarrassing things I apparently do. My husband calls him my wingman, which he absolutely is. With everything we have gone through as a family, and all the kindness and resilience he has shown, I am so proud of the compassionate and incredible young man he has become, and hope his University finds out how very lucky they are to have him.

The other thing this means is that when he leaves, it will be just my husband, myself and eldest Years of Reading, and although I have been a full time carer for a while, what it brings more sharply into focus is that now, when my husband is at work, it will be just the two of us (plus Jasper the Labrador!) all day every day.

When you look after someone as an unpaid carer, as I’ve explained before, it can be really lonely and isolating, but at least with Youngest Years Of Reading being here, there was a change in the dynamic, a new breath of energy when he burst through the doors at the end of the school day, or came back from a night out, hungry and wanting to tell us all about what had happened.

As there are probably only three of us that will read this post (including my Dad – hi Dad!), I think it’s ok to admit that I am finding being a full time carer really hard at the moment. When the person you care for doesn’t want to go outside the house, and has huge anxiety about everything, and they wake up before six every morning, it’s a long, Groundhog Day every day. I am talking about it because we don’t say it enough. We think as unpaid carers we have to carry on because that’s what we should do, but I want to tell you if you are finding it too much, it’s okay to say that – and at the moment I am.

Half of me also thinks that when Youngest Years Of Reading goes, that it’s the perfect time to stop blogging and focus more on my eldest son, but the other half of me thinks that this maybe could be a chance for me to put more time and energy into pursuing something I love so much, find a new direction, because without reading and blogging, I honestly don’t know what I would do.

Yet increasingly, I’m also feeling a sense of invisibility to the book world because I’m over fifty.

Just because I choose not to make reels or record a video, or be on booktok doesn’t mean I don’t know how to talk about books. I really do, and I think I’m quite good at it too. For the first time in seven years I am feeling left behind and have genuinely wondered whether it’s time for me to stop blogging.

It’s so frustrating when you know how many incredible older bloggers and reviewers there are who write so brilliantly and passionately about books. I feel that there just seems to be this disconnect I can’t work out, and it makes me wonder whether we can change it, or it’s just the way it is, and I just have to carry on and accept it, or stop blogging.

Maybe trying to make sure that those voices and those of carers are heard could be part of my new chapter, and it might just be the thing that makes Youngest Years of Reading leaving home a little easier to bear..

Lots of love,

Clare

Xxx

My Summer of Reading Selfishly

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A Woman Reading in the Woods, 1959 (Life magazine)

I had my Summer Reading all perfectly planned.

A stack of books, selected, piled, all ready for an introduction on Twitter (refuse to call it X), a lovely filtered picture on Instagram and a cheeky post on Threads. There is so much bookish stuff going on – the Booker Prize Longlist, the notabene prize Shortlist, the Diverse Book Awards, the fabulous Women In Translation month, not to mention the books that are coming out in August and all the ones I haven’t managed to read and review yet, and don’t get me started on the books sat on my bookshelf glaring at me..

I don’t know what happened, I sat looking at them all and I just felt completely overwhelmed.

I always feel when you announce to the world “These are the books I want to read this summer”, that there is an obligation to read them all – even if you don’t really love them, because you have put it out there, and as a book blogger, I always try to do what I say!

I ended up with a full on case of The Dreaded Book Slump, not wanting to read anything at all, and instead spent my days watching re-runs of Real Housewives and sat staring at my books.

So this Summer, I am trying to do something a bit different. It might not be for everyone, but for me, I know that with everything else I have going on (hello real life!), that I need to stay interested and feel that reading is a pleasure, not a bookish chore I need to get through – otherwise those Real Housewives are going to get watched a LOT.

This Summer is going to be my Summer Of Reading Selfishly, and if you have read this far, thank you, and you are probably (hopefully) wondering what it means, and whether you could do it too.

I have picked a new pile of books to read over the Summer – in fact, as I write this blog post, they are sat on the table in front of me, and I have decided that I am not going to share what they are.

I am not setting myself any deadlines, I might post a review if I feel like it – although am not quite sure where works anymore – but that’s a whole other blog post. If I love the book I have read – I will tell you about it, if it’s not for me, I won’t say a word, and move on to the next one.

For me, that’s the best bit – this is a win win for everyone! I shout about books I love, the authors know I love their books, and if I read a book from my stack that I don’t love, I just put it down and move onto the next one – and no one knows. More importantly, I don’t feel under any pressure to read and review everything I have in my pile – because I am the only one who knows what’s on there.

So for this August, that’s my Summer Reading sorted, and honestly, for the first time in a long time I am looking forward to just reading for the sake of it. I might even start to remember a time when I used to read without thinking about how I would review it!

One thing is for sure, I promise to let you all know when I read a brilliant book – and here’s to my Summer of Reading Selfishly.

Take What You Need by Idra Novey

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Take What You Need by Idra Novey

Published by Daunt Books Originals

on 3rd August 2023

Available from All Good Bookshops

What They Say

Take What You Need traces the parallel lives of Jean and her beloved but estranged stepdaughter, Leah, who’s sought a clean break from her rural childhood. In Leah’s urban life with her young family, she’s revealed little about Jean, how much she misses her stepmother’s hard-won insights and joyful lack of inhibition.

But with Jean’s death, Leah must return to sort through what’s been left behind. What Leah discovers is staggering: Jean has filled her ramshackle house with giant sculptures she’s welded from scraps of the area’s industrial history.

Set in the Allegheny Mountains of Appalachia, Take What You Need explores the continuing mystery of the people we love most, zeroing in on the joys and difficulties of family with great verve and humour, and illuminating what can be built from what others have discarded.

What I Say

There are novels that when published, seem to be everywhere, with so many people shouting about them, that often there are quiet novels of pure brilliance that don’t get the attention they truly deserve. I hope that Take What You Need really does find its way onto your bookish radar, because I think it should be front and centre on your reading lists.

In Take What You Need Idra Novey perfectly articulates the complexities and realities of living in modern America while the world beyond your four walls, and the people you love change beyond your control.

Jean and Leah are stepmother and daughter, who are now living in different parts of the country after Jean had to live the familial home when Leah was only ten. Although Leah’s father tried to discourage their relationship, they stayed in touch via sporadic emails and phone calls. Leah is now living in New York with her husband and young son, while Jean lives in Appalachia, a place ravaged by poverty and addiction. When Leah receives a phone call from a stranger, telling her that Jean has died and left her artwork to her, Leah and her husband undertake the journey to the Allegheny Mountains with their young son.

After a life of working, Jean had devoted herself to her art, and used steel and lots of different ephemera that she collected from flea markets and wherever she could to create her works she called her ‘manglements’ – a body of work that ranges from small boxes to huge totem pole sizes that she has inside her house.

When Jean’s neighbour asks to use her stand pipe so she can get water for her family after theirs is cut off, it is then she meets their son Elliott. Realising how little money the family has, she starts to offer him food and the use of her shower. After Elliott helps Jean when she has an accident making her art, they start a tentative friendship, and Elliott starts to help Jean construct her artwork. Jean sees a young man constrained by his environment, who has the potential to change his life – if only he can see it – and this is part of the backdrop of this novel, the very different lives that play out when you do or don’t have the financial means to survive.

All the time Jean is also thinking of Leah, and when a visit from her goes spectacularly wrong – with both women describing very different perceptions of what happened, the relationship breaks down again. Jean is alone, with only her art for company, and Elliott is becoming more and more distant as he becomes an addict, starts to turn to theft and is thrown out of his family home. Leah finds it difficult to understand how Jean can possibly want to speak to Elliott after everything he has put her through, but Jean instinctively understands that this is a young man who never stood a chance as the world around him collapses and pulls him under with it.

The narrative moves effortlessly between Jean and Leah, both women aware of the closeness they have lost, and realising that if only they can find the words, they could once again have the relationship they both miss so much. I felt it was also a way for Idra to show the reader two very different experiences of living in America, at a time when the MAGA movement and Donald Trump’s presidency is a reality, and we are constantly aware of the socioeconomic backdrop to the plot. Elliott’s trajectory is one that is all too familiar and harrowing, yet there is also a humanity and need for connection that means he cannot let Jean go, as he recognises that she saw him as a person with potential, and although he doesn’t always know how to deal with it, he eventually understands the emotional debt he owes her.

Take What You Need is a beautiful and thoughtful novel about how art intersects with so many parts of our lives, and how powerful and life changing it can be. This is also a novel about how sometimes family is not necessarily those people you are related to, but instead can be found in those people who understand and love you for what you are and the potential they can see in you. Jean understands both Leah and Elliott completely, and although they are seemingly disparate characters, it is Jean’s love and desire for both of them to fulfill their potential that unites them after she is no longer in their lives.

I absolutely loved it.

Thank you so much to Jimena Gorraez and Daunt Publishing for my proof copy

Seventeen by Joe Gibson

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Seventeen by Joe Gibson

Published by Gallery UK and Simon and Schuster on 20 July

Available from all Good Bookshops

What They Say

It’s 1992. Like every other seventeen-year-old boy, Joe has one eye on his studies, the other on his social life – smoking, Britpop, girls. He’s looking ahead to a gap year full of travel and adventure before university when his teacher – attractive, mid-thirties – takes an interest in him. It seems like a fantasy come true.  

For his final two years at school, he is bound to her, a woman twice his age, in an increasingly tangled web of coercion, sex and lies. Their affair, a product of complex grooming and a shocking abuse of authority, is played out in the corridors of one of Britain’s major private schools, under the noses of people who suspected, even knew, but said nothing. 

Thirty years on, this is Joe’s gripping record of the illicit relationship that dominated his adolescence and dictated the course of his life. With a heady dose of nineties nostalgia and the perfectly captured mood of those final months at school, Joe charts the enduring legacy of deceit and the indelibility of decisions made at seventeen. 

What I Say

You may have seen on my Twitter feed that I talked about a book that had stopped me in my tracks, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since I read it (you can possibly tell by the number of post its in my copy in the picture!)

Lots of people were curious to know, and so today, I can tell you that the book I am talking about is called Seventeen. It is a memoir written by Joe Gibson (this is a pseudonym), which tells the story of Joe, as a seventeen year old, who had an affair with his thirty five year old teacher called Miss P.

Joe was awarded a bursary to study at a private school which was 150 miles away from his parents. They sorted out accommodation for him with some family friends, who were caring people, but basically left Joe to do what he wanted to do. He finds a group of friends quite quickly, and settles into school life, but then discovers that his Dad is leaving and his mum and dad are getting divorced.

Understandably upset, and realising how far away from home he is, he goes to a pub to drown his sorrows. It is there he bumps into Miss P, who listens to and comforts him and Joe realises that he is attracted to his teacher.

One evening Miss P asks him to help her tidy up the classroom, and they eventually end up at her flat where they drink wine together and kiss. Very quickly, this turns into a fully blown affair, and Joe, although he knows this is his teacher, and this is not right, realises that he loves Miss P – or Ali, as she now becomes to him.

Joe’s seventeen year old voice comes through very clearly throughout the memoir. He at times seems almost proud of their relationship, their sex life, and relishing the time they spend together, desperate to see her again, yet also still having to be the person his friends know. He has to be the seventeen year old they know – half listening to his friends as they debate which girls in their classes they fancy, trying to maintain the facade of a normal student, but harbouring this secret that he knows would blow his whole world apart if it ever comes out. So he says nothing.

What becomes clear to the reader very quickly is that this is not an equal relationship. Miss P controls every aspect of it – she devises the most incredible plans, comes up with the complicated and seemingly safe logistics to make sure that they can see each other, but also making sure little by little that Joe is entirely under her control. Miss P decides when and where they can see each other, she ignores him for periods at school, and taunts him about being a school boy when it seems that he is trying to think for himself.

As they become more and more involved, Joe distances himself from his friends and family, his school work starts to suffer, and his hopes of going to Oxford slip from his grasp. At the same time, his relationship with Ali intensifies, and her insistence that they spend time together in increasingly dangerous ways are to be honest, jaw dropping to say the least. Joe is so far entrenched in this relationship that he can’t see what we all can – that he is powerless, and entirely under Miss P’s control.

Seventeen honestly reads like fiction -as if Joe and Miss P are characters in a novel that you read, talk about and put on a shelf. Of course this is a memoir, these are real people, and their lives still go on. One of the most incredible parts of Joe’s story is what happens to the relationship – and no, I’m not going to tell you what that is.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Seventeen when I read it because I have so many questions. Why Joe? Had she done it before? Why didn’t the friends she told report her? What was her motive for getting involved with Joe? Was Ali telling the truth about her past relationships at all?

Yet something else supersedes all that, because I keep thinking about my seventeen year old son and what it would be like for him if it happened to him, and that is what Joe illustrates so clearly. At the very heart of all this, we need to understand that Joe is a seventeen year old school boy, and Miss P is his thirty five year old teacher.

It should never have happened, but it did, and if Seventeen does one thing, it made me start a conversation with my own son about what had happened to Joe, and how that behaviour from an adult is never acceptable. We also learn that it wasn’t until 2000 that it became illegal for a teacher to have a sexual relationship with a 16 or 17 year old – which makes you wonder how many times this story played out in other schools, and what happened to those people whose stories we may never know.

This is why I think it’s such a thought provoking memoir, because it made me stop and think about how I communicate with my son – when Joe was seventeen, there wasn’t social media and mobile phones, you had to either use the home phone or find a pay phone to contact someone, or even go physically to see them. Here and now, our teenagers are so busy looking down, connected to a world we can’t access, it is harder and harder to really find out what is happening in their lives, and that is why Seventeen is such an important book.

Now more than ever we need to be present for teenagers, to make sure that Joe’s story is something that can’t happen again. Joe says in the acknowledgements that he hopes by finding his voice seventeen years later, and articulating his experience that he can encourage other people to do the same. I think Joe has also started a timely conversation about power and control and needing to make sure that in a time of digital communication where we aren’t party to everything that happens on a screen that we don’t forget about simply talking to and listening to our children too to make sure Joe’s story is not repeated.

I absolutely loved it.

Thank you so much to Sabah Khan at Simon and Schuster for my finished copy in exchange for an honest review.