Review: Waiting on a Friend by Natalie Adler (2026)

Blurb

East Village, summer of 1984. Renata is a young dyke-about-town who has the ability to see ghosts, which has been happening more and more frequently as her friends have started dying of what has recently been named AIDS.

So, when her best friend Mark dies, she assumes she’ll see him again. There’s no way Mark wouldn’t give her a chance to say goodbye, would he? But to her disappointment – and increasingly, her concern – Mark doesn’t appear.

Renata has other problems, too. A mysterious, police-like force has begun ridding their East Village neighbourhood of anything abnormal or inexplicable. At first, she’s sure they’re scam artists, but it becomes clear they’re actually trapping ghosts. With her band of lovably eccentric pals and lovers, Renata is determined to fight back against the erasure of her friends’ memories and the sanitizing of her beloved New York.

Both heartbreaking and healing, tragic and triumphant, Waiting on a Friend is a magical retelling of queer history and a celebration of youth and camaraderie. With pathos and humour, empathy and an edge, Natalie Adler freshly reimagines the past for a new generation, reclaiming the spirit of resistance and determination that would become one of the era’s defining legacies.

Review

I was lucky enough to receive a proof copy of this book in exchange for an honest review – many thanks to the publisher and the lovely Squadpod. There were so many reasons why I wanted to get my hands on Waiting on a Friend – I have a real soft spot for books where the protagonist can see ghosts, such as The Dust Never Settles by Karina Lickorish Quinn, and indeed my own work-in-progress! I’ve also been deeply moved by media about the AIDS crisis – Rebecca Makkai’s book The Great Believers and the TV series It’s a Sin both left a strong impression on me, so I was intrigued to get another perspective on it.

Renata is a brilliant protagonist: she’s flawed and chaotic but brimming with a kind of light and energy that carries you through her story right alongside her. She seems to have a really strong idea of who she is, while at the same time wrestling with the traumas that continue to shape and change her. There’s a beautiful sense of found family in the queer community that surrounds her; her friendships run deep, and in amongst the tragedy there’s so much love. It’s the sort of novel where the characters feel so real – I grew so fond of Bianca, Julie, Star – and even the less sympathetic characters like Patrick are given space to develop and show their nuances. Renata’s backstory, including her relationship with her mother and her friendship with Mark, is woven in really skillfully – as you might expect from someone who sees ghosts, past and present become fluid concepts, and the overlap is felt in the writing.

The East Village setting is vividly evoked, and there is some fascinating socio-political commentary on the city of New York’s attempts to ‘sanitise’ the areas staked out by Renata and her friends as ‘home’ – housing dilemmas and battles with landlords form a constant background rumble to the more idiosyncratic plot points. I really like the way Manhattan Remediation becomes a kind of metaphor as well as part of the ‘Ghostbusters’ adventure thread of the book. There’s a lot going on here, but it all fits together in a really clever and fresh way. The novel reminded me of why I love magical realism as a genre, or even just as elements dripped into a story: the power of the human imagination to elevate the glorious messiness of existence into something rich and strange is really one of the greatest joys of literature for me, and this book is a stunning example of that.

If I had to choose one word to describe Waiting on a Friend, I think it’d be ‘impactful.’ It packs a punch in its brutal honesty, stripping away any pretence, and its portrayal of grief is powerful and raw. It’s a novel that presses against your heart and leaves an imprint, the ‘ghost’ of the emotions experienced while reading it. Natalie Adler is a fiercely bright talent, and I will be eagerly awaiting whatever comes next from this author. I highly recommend getting your hands on this deeply moving, gorgeously queer, utterly original novel as soon as you can.

Waiting on a Friend by Natalie Adler is published by Quercus and is available to purchase here.

Review: Sister of Mine by Marie-Claire Amuah (2026)

Blurb

Sika’s holiday to Ghana is the trip of a lifetime, until she uncovers a family secret that changes her life…

When Sika is invited to a lavish family party in Accra, she jumps at the chance. Her life might be in London – with a high-powered job, demanding boss and intense friendships – but she’s itching to get to know her cousins, aunts and uncles, and explore the country her mother left just after Sika was born.

The holiday is better than she could have imagined, especially when handsome, charismatic Danso steps onto the scene. But on the night of the big party, as her happiness soars, Sika discovers a dark secret that will change everything – for everyone – forever.

From an award-winning writer, Sister of Mine is a poignant and heartfelt novel about family ties, family lies and the truths we withhold to protect the ones we love.

Review

Many thanks to the publisher and the Squadpod for providing me with an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

From the extraordinary prologue, which focuses in on the not-so-humble mosquito, to the opening chapters which follow and immerse the reader in Sika’s first impressions of Ghana, this book had me in its thrall right from the start. It sets up the idea that Sika and her mother’s ‘homecoming’ will provide answers while introducing us to characters we warm to immediately – this is a book that steals your heart right away.

The protagonist, Sika, is a deeply engaging character – I adored how seamlessly she falls in love with Ghana and her newly-met family members. The bond she forms straightaway with her little cousin Loli is just beautiful, and the way each reunion feels like the unearthing of a memory embedded in her history is really clever and emotional. There are some great moments in the plot, such as when Sika attends a church service with her Auntie Edem and has an encounter with the somewhat sinister Prophet, and the preparations for Auntie Larjey and Uncle Papa’s party provide a good through-line and focus as we build to the climax of the story. The twists and turns of this novel had me in pieces – I really wasn’t expecting the story to go where it did towards the end, and it’s just so devastating – but the writing is brilliant and does justice to the dark places the story travels to.

There is a power and momentum behind Amuah’s writing which is both profound and entertaining. The author has such a unique way of melding humour with more serious moments – it feels like a reflection of the open-heartedness of many of the characters, in which joy and sorrow can coexist, and strong emotions are not something to fear. There’s a real sense of so much of human experience and emotional range being packed into this book – it really does feel like a journey for the reader as much as for the characters.

I’m in awe of the skill it takes to produce a story that wears its complexity and richness so lightly, that delves into so many different experiences but never feels like a ‘heavy read’ – there’s a kind of magic in writing that can achieve this, and I’m blown away by Marie Claire-Amuah’s storytelling. I can’t recommend this book highly enough, and I’ll be seeking out her debut, One for Sorrow, Two for Joy, which won the Diverse Book Award in 2023, as well as anything and everything she writes in the future.

Sister of Mine by Marie-Claire Amuah is published by Oneworld and is available to preorder here.

Review: Strangerland by Monika Radojevic (2026)

Blurb

London, 1990. Zivoin is newly arrived in a strange country. The dependable oldest son, he works all hours of the day and night, sending every penny he can save back to his family. On the news, he watches his homeland, Yugoslavia, slowly fracturing.

Thousands of miles away, in the tropical heat of Uberlândia, Brazil, Alegria prepares to leave behind the country – and the family – she loves dearly. Bright and ambitious, she strives to give her parents the life they deserve, even if it takes her far from them.

A chance meeting throws Alegria and Zivoin together – and for a brief moment, they feel at home. But their journey is just beginning, and what follows will draw them irresistibly across countries and continents, leaving them both forever changed.

The powerful, exhilarating debut novel from an award-winning new voice in fiction, Strangerland is a heartfelt testament to the endurance that has come to define a generation of immigrants. Above all, it is a soaring, emotionally rich story about the power of love to transcend languages, borders and time.

Review

Many thanks to the publisher and the lovely Squadpod for providing me with an advance copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.

I was really excited to get my hands on Monika Radojevic’s debut novel, having absolutely loved her short story collection A Beautiful Lack of Consequence, which was published last year. In the short stories, Radojevic’s style is sharp, incisive, experimental, and fiercely feminist, and I felt very much in safe hands as I started reading Strangerland.

The vibe here is slightly different, softened by the beautiful romance at the heart of the novel, but the prose is just as crisp and clever as I was hoping for. It’s writing that carries the reader along, shuts out the world outside, and transports us to the time and place where the characters’ dramas play out – the early 1990s setting and the movement between London, Brazil and Yugoslavia is compelling and absorbing. The main characters, Alegria and Zivoin, based on the author’s own parents, are hugely sympathetic and engaging, and their love story is enough to melt even the most cynical heart. Their attraction to each other and the strength of their feelings as they tentatively begin their relationship really does make you believe in true love.

One thing (among many) that the book does really well is to conjure up the logistical difficulties of moving between countries not only as an immigrant who fears being denied entry, but in the era before mobile phones – so many times in the story, pre-arranged meetings fall through, plans are disrupted and contingencies have to be made, and the characters have to display a resourcefulness that I’m not sure we can fully appreciate or remember nowadays! It creates some very strong moments of tension, and really makes you feel for the characters and the hurdles they have to overcome just to be given a chance at happiness.

I actually found it really refreshing to read a book about two such ‘good’ people. There is a lot of brilliant and very important context in the book about the barriers that immigrants face, the casual but brutal racism encountered every day, the relentlessness of financial constraints and the horrors of encroaching war, but the overall feeling I came away with was one of optimism in spite of it all, a renewed belief that there ARE decent human beings in the world, who deserve good things. And I think we all need that reminder these days! I won’t spoil the ending except to say that initially it surprised me, but when I reflected back, it fitted perfectly, and encompasses all the hope that I think this book offers up, despite the odds. After reading Strangerland, I’m a bigger fan of Monika Radojevic’s writing than ever, and I can’t wait to see what’s next.

Strangerland by Monika Radojevic is out now with Merky Books and is available to purchase here.

Review: Blank Canvas by Grace Murray (2026)

Blurb

Introducing an outstanding new voice in literary fiction: a sensual, sharp, and utterly compelling campus novel about grief, reinvention, and the ripple effects of telling lies

If I ever woke up with an ungodly dread — that I could change it all now, turn around, and confess — I ignored it. I had never been good, and there was no point in trying now.

On a small liberal arts campus in upstate New York, Charlotte begins her final year with a lie. Her father died over the summer, she says. Heart attack. Very sudden.

Charlotte had never been close with her classmates but as she repeats her tale, their expressions soften into kindness. And so she learns there are things worth lying for: attention, affection, and, as she embarks on a relationship with fellow student Katarina, even love. All she needs to do is keep control of the threads that hold her lie – and her life – together.

But six thousand miles away, alone in the grey two-up-two-down Staffordshire terrace she grew up in, her father is very much alive, watching television and drinking beer. Charlotte has always kept difficult truths at arm’s length, but his resolve to visit his distant daughter might just be the one thing she can’t control.

Review

I was lucky enough to receive a proof copy of Blank Canvas in exchange for an honest review – many thanks to the publisher and to the lovely Squadpod.

I really like the bold premise of this book: a lie that takes hold and can’t be undone, told by a protagonist who at first doesn’t give a shit about consequences or emotionally manipulating people – in fact, she doesn’t give a shit about anything much at all. So who cares if she lies to her fellow students and says that her Dad is dead – they’re in America, her family is from the UK, no one will ever know…

Charlotte’s detached, almost emotionless narration is oddly mesmerising right from start, and of course we wonder why she’s decided to spin this tragic yarn, but the story really takes off when she accidentally falls in love (or something like it) with Katarina, and suddenly she’s in too deep to confess to her lie. Suddenly, the consequences matter. It’s a simple but stunningly effective transition, and the book does such a good job of evoking the awful power of our actions, the way our mistakes shape our development, both positively and negatively, and the frankly brutal period of self-discovery that takes place in our early 20s. This novel goes straight for the jugular – it’s stark and shocking and never shies away from the cruel complexities of human nature – but it does also have a heart, and I surprised myself by how much I felt for these fierce, lost characters trying to figure out who they are.

There’s a location shift to Italy that somehow softens the story, at least at first – the idyllic descriptions have an almost Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead-esque quality, a sun-soaked interlude before Charlotte’s house of cards comes crashing down. It’s a really clever tone-change, and it adds another dimension to an already nuanced story. It takes the book beyond ‘campus novel’ territory and gives a glimpse of how rich and wide this author’s skillset is.

The prose is sharp and fresh throughout the novel; the writing gets under your skin and pulls you into the story in a way that makes for a compelling reading experience. I devoured this book in a few delicious gulps, not wanting to tear myself away from the tantalising spikes of Charlotte’s narrative. Blank Canvas reminded me of books by writers such as Chloe Ashby (particularly her first novel, Wet Paint), and Madeleine Gray, but it also feels excitingly original. I’d definitely read more by this author, and I’m looking forward to seeing what comes next!

Blank Canvas by Grace Murray is published by Penguin Fig Tree and is available to purchase here.

Review: Ravenglass by Carolyn Kirby (2025)

Blurb

In 18th century Whitehaven, Kit Ravenglass grows up in a house of secrets. A shameful mystery surrounds his mother’s death, and his formidable, newly rich father is gambling everything on shipping ventures. Kit takes solace in his beloved sister Fliss, and her sumptuous silks, although he knows better than to reveal his delight in feminine fashion. As the family’s debts mount, Kit’s father turns to the transatlantic slave trade – a ruthless and bloody traffic to which more than a fortune might be lost.

Adventures will see Kit turn fugitive and begin living as ‘Stella,’ before being swept into the heady violence of Bonnie Prince Charlie’s rebellion. Driven by love, revenge and a desire to live truly and freely, Kit must find a way to survive these turbulent times – and to unravel the tragic secrets of the Ravenglass family.

Review

Historical fiction is my absolute favourite genre, and I was thrilled to get the chance to read and review Ravenglass thanks to my lovely Squadpod. I received a copy of the book in exchange for an honest review – apologies for the delay!

This is such a rich and rewarding read, covering a really meaty historical period with a deftness and nuance that shows the skill of the author. The setting is beautifully immersive – we start in the port town of Whitehaven, where transatlantic trade has lead to a boom that the protagonist’s father is taking full advantage of. There’s a visceral sense of the chaos and excitement of a harbour town on the rise, with all the associated sights, sounds and smells, and as Kit heads off to sea for the first time, we get a taste of the sweeping, epic adventure this novel has in store for us.

The plot covers so much ground, both literally and metaphorically, and as we journey through the north to Edinburgh and back again, we feel the reverberations of huge historical events such as the slave trade and Bonnie Prince Charlie’s rebellion. So much of the period is distilled into this gorgeous novel, and yet the research never overwhelms the story, and it is the characters who create the beating heart of the book. Kit/Stella is a revelation: an incredibly sensitive, complex portrayal of a character who is searching for the truth of their own identity in a world that is full of danger. I was so moved by Kit as a character, and without giving any spoilers, the resolution just worked so beautifully well for me as a reader. I know this story will stay with me for a long time.

As well as a fascinating historical setting, a wonderfully original protagonist, and a writing style that complements the genre perfectly, Ravenglass also has a fantastic set of supporting characters, with a good balance of antagonists and friends for Kit. The family backstory is dark and full of secrets, adding another layer to the narrative. There’s so much going on here, but it’s all held in perfect balance, which is the sign of an author working at the peak of her powers. I definitely want to read more by Carolyn Kirby, and I highly recommend getting hold of Ravenglass if you’re a fan of immersive historical fiction that delves into social issues in a character-driven, nuanced way.

Ravenglass by Carolyn Kirby is published by Northodox Press and is available to purchase here.

Review: LA Women by Ella Berman (2025)

Blurb

An electrifying novel about the complicated friendship between two ambitious writers and the ultimate artistic betrayal: one writes a book based upon the other’s life, revealing everything…from the author of Reese’s Book Club Pick Before We Were Innocent.

After a steady descent from literary stardom, Lane Warren is back. She’s secured a new book deal based off the life of her sometime friend and, more often, rival Gala Margolis. Lane’s only problem is that notorious free spirit Gala has been missing for months.

Ten years earlier, Gala was a charming socialite and Lane was a Hollywood outsider amidst the glittering 1960s L.A. party scene. Though they were never best friends, Lane found Gala sharp and compelling. Gala liked that Lane took her seriously. They were both writers. They were drawn to each other.

That was until Gala’s star began to rise, and Lane grew envious. Then Lane did something that she wouldn’t ever be able to take back…changing the trajectories of both their lives.

Bold, dazzling, and crackling with tension, L.A. Women plunges readers into the legendary parties and unparalleled creativity of iconic Laurel Canyon, while exploring the impossible choices women face when ambition collides with intimacy. At what cost does great art emerge? And who pays the price?

Review

Many thanks to the publisher and to the lovely Squadpod for providing me with a proof copy of LA Women in exchange for an honest review.

I enjoyed reading this novel so much – right from the start, I was captivated by the setting and the two female characters at the centre of the story. The legendary status of Laurel Canyon in the sixties and seventies makes for an immediately engaging and intriguing atmosphere, with all the glamour and excess you could wish for, but the novel’s real draw is its focus on these two complicated, spiky, fiercely intelligent women, and their often uncategorizable relationship. This is by no means a paean to female friendship, but it is a unique and powerful look at the influence women have on each others’ lives, even overshadowing that of their partners at times. There is a strange link between Lane and Gala, even though months go by without them crossing paths, and you can almost feel their awareness of each other’s presence when they re-enter the same orbit. It’s a palpable, undefinable bond that skirts the edges of both love and hate, and it’s absolutely fascinating to read about.

There are a lot of really important themes in this book, but the exploration is never heavy-handed or overbearing. The spectre of addiction hovers over the characters, as we see Gala’s boyfriend’s struggles and hear about Lane’s parents. There is also a probing and nuanced examination of the maternal instinct, or lack of it, a topic which is still somewhat taboo – it reminded me of Claire Vaye Watkins’ brilliant book I Love You But I’ve Chosen Darkness (both novels also make mention of the Manson family, incidentally, though it’s not a main feature of either) – it’s a brave, challenging, and necessary theme to dive into, and Berman tackles it with real skill and intelligence. Lane is a flawed character is a lot of ways, and readers may find her unsympathetic, but it’s never as simple as it seems on the surface, and I think we do get a strong enough psychological insight into her feelings and behaviour that we come to an understanding of why she is the way she is.

Gala gleams and dazzles far more Lane, and I think readers will be more instantly drawn to her – the humour and audacity she brings to the scenes are a joy to watch (I say ‘watch’ deliberately, as there’s a cinematic feel to the novel, particularly Gala’s sections, which is highly appropriate for a novel set in Hollywood!) but it’s the contrasts and the connections between these two women that drive the book forward. There’s also a beautiful, tragic arc for Charlie, Lane’s best friend, and a razor-sharp dissection of the marriage between Lane and Scotty.

There’s so much going on in this book, and it all comes together in such an elegant and satisfying way. If you like intelligent, witty, female-led books that immerse you in a bygone era while posing questions that remain deeply relevant to our current lives, I can’t recommend LA Women highly enough.

LA Women by Ella Berman is published by Head of Zeus and is available to purchase here.

Review: The Mourning Necklace by Kate Foster (2025)

Blurb

Inspired by an infamous real-life case, The Mourning Necklace is the unforgettable feminist historical novel from the Women’s Prize-longlisted author of The Maiden, Kate Foster.

They said I would swing for the crime, and I did . . .

1724. In a tavern just outside Edinburgh, Maggie Dickson’s family drown their sorrows, mourning her death yet relieved she is gone. Shame haunts them. Hanged for the murder of her newborn child, passers-by avert their eyes from her cheap coffin on its rickety cart.

But as her family pray her soul rests in peace, a figure appears at the door.

It is Maggie. She is alive.

Bruised and dazed, Maggie has little time for her family’s questions. All that matters to her is answering this one: will they hang her twice?

Review

Many thanks to the publisher and the lovely Squadpod for providing me with a beautiful finished copy of The Mourning Necklace in exchange for an honest review.

Regular readers of my blog (hi, you two) will know that I am a massive fan of historical fiction, and one of my favourite types of historical novel is when an author takes a real-life story and reimagines it, filling out the often scant details and using the power of imagination to create something that does justice to the idea while making it their own. And that’s exactly what Kate Foster does here: the case of Maggie Dickson, accused of murdering her own baby, sentenced to hang, and somehow surviving the gallows, is the kind of juicy, sensationalist story that is ripe for fiction – but Foster takes the bones of the story and fleshes it out into something far more than the sum of its parts, creating a nuanced, moving novel that deals with some pretty compelling moral issues, some of which are sadly as relevant today as they were in the 1720s.

I loved the way this novel is structured, with sections for Hanging Day, Before the Hang, and After the Hang – it is incredibly satisfying as a reader to start with the day Maggie escapes her fate and then back up to how she got there in the first place, and the final section gives a real sense of resolution. It’s a perfectly constructed book, with a compelling hook and a wonderful narrative drive. Historical fiction can sometimes feel ‘heavy,’ weighed down by research and detail at the expense of plot, but the action takes centre stage here, and the pace is almost thriller-ish. I raced through it, desperate to follow every twist and turn.

Maggie is a great character – she’s by no means perfect, and while we can fully understand her desire to escape her dreary life in Fisherrow, we might flinch at her naivety and her eagerness to run off to London with Spencer. Her family life is complex, and it’s actually quite refreshing to see a sisterly relationship as flawed and difficult as the one between Maggie and Joan – I feel as if this genre often presents the ‘beloved sister’ trope, or if there is an estrangement, it is permanent and not integral to the story. Here, the sisters’ ups and downs are central – they are together at key moments, and there is no easy reconciliation or irreversible ‘split’. This feels very real.

One of the aspects of this story that I found most impactful is Maggie’s ignorance of the laws she will eventually fall foul of – I won’t give too much away, but as the opening statement mentions the crime of ‘Concealment of a Pregnancy,’ it’s clear that this novel is dealing with issues of reproductive rights that are all too relevant today, with the state holding authority over women’s bodies and individuals unsure and terrified as to what constitutes a crime in a fluctuating political environment. The overtones here are dark and menacing, and Foster explores them with subtlety, never overpowering the character-driven elements of the story, but opening it out to wider themes in an intelligent and thought-provoking way.

This is the first novel I’ve read by Kate Foster, but I know my Squadpod pals are big fans of her previous books, and I will definitely be checking out The Maiden and The King’s Witches – this is just the sort of historical fiction I enjoy, and I’m really glad I had the chance to read The Mourning Necklace. I highly recommend it.

The Mourning Necklace by Kate Foster is published by Mantle and is available to purchase here.

Review: Edenglassie by Melissa Lucashenko (2025)

Blurb

TWO UNFORGETTABLE STORIES. TWO FAMILIES. TWO HUNDRED YEARS OF HISTORY.

1854: When Mulanyin meets the beautiful Nita in Brisbane – or Edenglassie, as it was once briefly known – his community still outnumbers the British settlers. Tensions are simmering just beneath the surface of a fragile peace, but hopes for independence are running high. Yet when colonial unrest tears through the region, Mulanyin’s passion for his new bride clashes with his loyalty to a homeland in danger.

Two centuries later, fiery activist Winona meets Dr Johnny when her grandmother Eddie has a serious fall. Winona just wants the obstinate centenarian back on her feet, but a shrewd journalist has other ideas. Eddie becomes a local celebrity, dominating the headlines as ‘Queensland’s Oldest Aboriginal’.

Her time in the spotlight brings past and present crashing together, the legacy of Nita and Mulanyin’s tragic past reaching into Winona and Eddie’s lives with consequences they couldn’t have predicted.

Review

Many thanks to the publisher and the lovely Squadpod for providing me with a copy of Edenglassie in exchange for an honest review.

I’m a big fan of a dual timeline novel, and this is one of the best examples of the form that I have read in a while. There’s a cracking ‘present’ storyline set in 2024, full of characters I’d happily follow for a whole book, particularly the fierce, uncompromising Winona, who is an absolutely brilliant creation – I loved her. There is a lot of humour in this section, as well as piercing political commentary, and an insight into modern Australian society that I found fascinating.

As well as all this, the book is also a treat for historical fiction fans, with Mulanyin’s story playing out in a historical context I knew little about. I learned a lot and uncovered even more gaps in my knowledge – Australia isn’t a country whose history I’m particularly familiar with, and this book sent me down a lot of research rabbit holes, which, for me, is part of the joy of this genre. I think the main thing I hadn’t fully grasped before I read Edenglassie was just how thin the line between coexistence and violence can be in a colonial situation, and how an uncertain peace can be just as psychologically damaging as open hostility. The emotional heft of Mulanyin’s story really left an impression on me as a reader, and he’s yet another character from this powerful book who will stay with me. His romance with Nita is portrayed with just the right blend of idealism and practicality – and I defy any reader of their love story not to root for them throughout.

There’s such a skillful balance between all the many threads of this novel – it was no surprise for me to learn that this is Melissa Lucashenko’s seventh novel, such is the deftness of the writing and the elegance of the complex structure – but I’m delighted to find out that there’s so much more by this author for me to enjoy. This is novel writing at its finest: raw, intelligent, real, bringing the secrets of the past into the light of the present – it’s a book that really speaks to the reader, with urgency and eloquence and a sense of challenge.

I thought the way everything came together at the end was so clever – for me, it worked beautifully, and it felt tragic, literary, angry, hopeful, and a bit magical all at once. There’s some serious heft to the writing in this novel, and its one that I will be thinking about for a long time to come. I can’t recommend Edenglassie highly enough – this is an important, urgent, stunning novel.

Edenglassie by Melissa Lucashenko is published by Oneworld and is available to purchase here.

Review: Seascraper by Benjamin Wood (2025)

Blurb

Thomas lives a slow, deliberate life with his mother in Longferry, working his grandpa’s trade as a shanker. He rises early to take his horse and cart to the grey, gloomy beach to scrape for shrimp; spending the rest of the day selling his wares, trying to wash away the salt and scum, pining for Joan Wyeth down the street and rehearsing songs on his guitar. At heart, he is a folk musician, but it remains a private dream.

When a striking visitor turns up, bringing the promise of Hollywood glamour, Thomas is shaken from the drudgery of his days and begins to see a different future. But how much of what the American claims is true, and how far can his inspiration carry Thomas?

Haunting and timeless, this is the story of a young man hemmed in by his circumstances, striving to achieve fulfilment far beyond the world he knows.

Review

Many thanks to the publisher and the lovely Squadpod for the opportunity to read a proof copy of Seascraper in exchange for an honest review.

This is such a beautifully written, atmospheric book – the coastal setting and carefully wrought descriptions of the sea put me in mind of Garrett Carr’s The Boy From the Sea, which I also read recently and loved. Unlike Carr’s book, however, the focus is less on community and more on the individual character of the protagonist, Thomas, to whose perspective the story cleaves throughout. The present tense makes for a very close link between reader and protagonist, and, appropriately enough, reading the book feels a little like watching a film, due to the vivid descriptions and real-time unfolding of events.

Thomas is a fascinating character – there is something ancient about the way he slips into the rhythms of his job, at one with the sands and the tides. And yet he is a young man, with hopes and dreams that he keeps hidden, a yearning for more from life than his current hard, stoic existence. His relationship with his mother is a complex web of duty, guilt and affection that keeps him trapped in Longferry, and it is only the unlikely appearance of film director Edgar Acheson that allows his dreams to grow bigger in his imagination. I also really enjoyed Thomas’ interactions with his unnamed and equally hard-working horse, who plays a vital role in the book!

The compressed timeframe of the novel, set over a couple of days, adds to its intensity – we are utterly immersed in this small slice of Thomas’ life, in a way that makes us as readers prepared to follow the unexpected turns the story takes. I liked that the book went beyond stark realism into another mode – but I won’t say too much for, because the surprises are best discovered fresh. The prose is similarly restrained and elegant, reminding me, as Carr’s novel did too, of Claire Keegan’s writing. If you like your novels tightly packed with meaning, substantial in matter if not in page length, then this is the book for you.

I am surprised I haven’t come across Benjamin Wood’s work before, and I suspect he ought to be much better known. I’m pleased to discover he has a backlist of four more novels, which I am definitely going to be checking out. This is a skilful exploration of a very specific life that nevertheless opens out to bigger questions of how to live, a book that is utterly entrenched in its setting but with wider applications of its hefty themes. Seascraper is a very fine novel indeed, and I highly recommend it.

Seascraper by Benjamin Wood is published by Viking and is available to purchase here.

Review: Ghost Wedding by David Park (2025)

Blurb

For fans of Sebastian Faulks, Donal Ryan and Anne Tyler comes this beautiful novel following two troubled men, separated by nearly a century, bound by the ghosts of their past

When George Allenby is put in charge of building a lake in the grounds of an imposing Irish manor house, he intends to do the job as swiftly as possible and return to Belfast. Allenby is still wrestling with his time as an officer during the First World War, burdened by the many things he could have done differently.

Almost a century later, Alex and Ellie are preparing for their wedding, sparing no expense to hire a venue overlooking the very lake Allenby built all those years ago.

Like Allenby before him, Alex is haunted by decisions he made in the past. Now, with the wedding drawing ever closer, he is at a crossroads. Telling the truth might free him from his guilt; it might also take away everything he cares about, including Ellie.

In this masterful portrait of love and betrayal, David Park reveals the many ways the past seeps into the present: destructive, formidable, but also hopeful, in the moments of fragile beauty that remain.

Review

Many thanks to the publisher and the lovely Squadpod for providing me with a copy of the book in exchange for an honest review – once again, my apologies for the delay!

Somehow, I have never read any of David Park’s books before now. But I was intrigued by this book just from the title, and when I read the blurb, I knew it was right up my street. Historical fiction with a dash of magical realism is my bag, both as a reader and a writer, and the way the ghosts of the past slip into the present in this novel has given me food for thought for my own work-in-progress, which is always a thrill.

The story centres around a dual timeline narrative: George Allenby constructing a lake at Manor House in the early twentieth century, and Alex and Ellie planning their wedding on the same site nearly a hundred years later. However, there are many other hints and teasers of further stories, as the ghosts teeming around the various settings jostle for position. The theme of buildings, with both Allenby and Alex working in roles related to construction and properties, and the echoes of the lives that have walked through them, is powerfully explored, and there is an atmospheric hum to the narrative that suggests layers of existence piling up on top of each other in an almost archaeological formation.

I really felt for the characters, in all their complex, messy, human knottiness, particularly George, Cora, Alex and Ellie – there is a realism to the portrayal of the two couples at the centre of the book that offsets the more experimental, lyrical ‘ghost’ scenes. And yet in every case it is the past that creeps in: George is haunted by his experiences in the First World War; Alex by a secret he can’t escape from. There’s an ache to the griefs and memories carried by all of the characters, a bruised realness to their secrets and traumas. And yet it is a hopeful novel, too, exploring the power of love and connection.

The story is so carefully constructed, showing incredible skill and poise from the author. In the main narratives, the two love stories that play out across time are brought together in a way that is stunningly beautiful and clever. The prose throughout the book is elegant, precise, melancholic: this is a moving, intelligent, careful exploration of the liminal spaces between human existence. It’s a book that lingers – I will be thinking about it for a long time. I am looking forward to exploring more of David Park’s work now I have finally discovered him, and I highly recommend Ghost Wedding as a great place to start if you’re also new to his books.

Ghost Wedding by David Park is published by Oneworld and is available to purchase here.