Blurb

After years spent in the city, working with his business partner Randy on Bränd media, Ethan finds himself in the quiet, closed-off town of Starkfield. His wife Zenobia is perpetually distracted by the swirling #MeToo politics, the Kavanaugh hearings, and her duties to the feminist activism group she formed: All Them Witches. Ethan finds himself caught between their regular meetings at his home and the battle to get his livewire daughter Alex to sleep.

But the new, stilted rhythm of his life is interrupted when he receives a panicked message. Accusations. Against Randy. A slew of them. And Ethan is abruptly forced to question everything: his past, his future, his marriage, and what he values most.

Unrelenting in its satire, The Smash-up jolts you into the twisted psyche of successful brand advertising, where historic exploitation is only ever a panicked phone-call away. With magnetic energy and doses of comic wit, Benjamin creates a world of social media algorithms, extreme polarization, the collapsing of identity into tweet-sized spaces, and the spectre of violence that can be found even in the quietest places.

Review

I have really enjoyed reading this book as part of a buddy read organised by the wonderful riverrun books. Thanks so much to Ana and all of the team at riverrun/Quercus for running what I think are the best book chats on Twitter, and for my beautiful hardback copy of this book.

The Smash-Up is a hyper-modern book, sharp and spiky and utterly uncompromising in its refusal to take the easy road. Everything is complicated and messy and dusted with layers of ambiguity, from Zo’s activism to Ethan’s ‘good guy’ status. It reminded me a lot of Natasha Randall’s Love Orange (another riverrun delight, and my first buddy read experience), which I said in my review seemed to represent a new way of writing fiction. I think The Smash-Up, though different in many ways to Randall’s book, is part of that same movement towards something exciting and new, an ultra-modern mode of fiction that acknowledges the interconnectedness of family life, politics, social media, violence – everything crashing together and overloading our systems. The ‘domestic space’ no longer exists outside of politics, if it ever really did, and our lives are played out in a kind of public performance that makes the idea of a ‘private life’ seem anachronistic.

Strange to think that if I was writing this review a week ago, I would still be saying how timely it is, how it captures our era of misinformation and disillusionment perfectly, but I would probably be able to write it without tears in my eyes and anger in my heart. It is a very odd experience when the book you are reading, which is already highly relevant and absolutely on point about the issues of modern society and its mad, messy, confusing chaos, becomes more and more impactful by the hour as the news of the past week rolls in. By the end of this book, I was so deeply immersed in the truth of what Benjamin shows us that I was crying both with sadness and with relief that my feelings could have found such a corollary in fiction. If ever there was a book to read RIGHT NOW, this is it.

It is quite hard for me to articulate my thoughts on this book as I have only just finished it, and I know that the final buddy read tonight will help me corral my scattered ideas. I also think this is definitely a book that warrants re-reading – in fact, the geek in me would love to write an essay on The Smash-Up and Love Orange, so perhaps, lucky blog readers, there will be further ramblings from me in the future! For now, let me say that if you want to read a novel that just about sums up what it is to live in the world today, that probes the difficult questions and makes your brain whirr, that is more than just thought-provoking but rather thought-agitating, The Smash-Up will not disappoint. I’m already looking forward to rereading it.

The Smash-Up by Ali Benjamin is out now from riverrun books and is available to purchase here.

Blurb

A mother moves to Geneva with her husband and their two young children. In their beautiful new rented apartment, surrounded by their rented furniture, and several Swiss instructions to maintain quiet, she finds herself totally isolated. Her husband’s job means he is almost never present, and her entire world is caring for her children – making sure they are happy, and fed and comfortable, and that they can be seen as the happy, well-fed, comfortable family they should be. Everything is perfect.

But, of course, it’s not. The isolation, the sleeplessness, the demands of two people under two, are getting to Erika. She has never been so alone, and once the children are asleep, there are just too many hours to fill until morning . . .

Kyra Wilder’s Little Bandaged Days is a beautifully written, painfully claustrophobic story about a woman’s descent into madness. Unpredictable, frighteningly compelling and brutally honest, it grapples with the harsh conditions of motherhood and this mother’s own identity, and as the novel continues, we begin to wonder just what exactly Erika might be driven to do.

Review

Huge thanks to Alice Dewing at Picador Books for sending me a paperback copy in exchange for an honest review. I missed this book when it came out in hardback, so I’m delighted to have had the chance to read it now that it has been released in paperback. Little Bandaged Days is another dark, intense story about motherhood, which seems to be the theme I am running with this month, and I absolutely loved it.

The plot is straightforward enough: a woman moves to Switzerland with her husband and their two young children. With M out at work all day (and most nights), Erika is left alone with the children in their new apartment. What follows, however, is anything but simple: a gradual but terrifying slide into a strange unreality, the shapeless days unravelling, time stretching itself out and looping around in a thoroughly disconcerting way.

Wilder brings us so deeply into the mind of her protagonist that we see ‘reality’ through her eyes – and as she loses her grip, the reader is thrown headlong into the same sense of confusion and doubt. This is one of the most vivid, immersive portrayals of mental instability I have ever read. Everything that Erika sees and feels is real to her, and so, it becomes real to the reader. We are not allowed to adopt a rational, objective position – we are inside the mind that is coming undone, and it is an all-consuming experience. Terrible things happen in this book, but we rarely see the ‘truth’ until it is too late. Instead we are carried along on Erika’s bright, bubbling stream of enthusiasm that she keeps up with the kids, making everything into a game, constructing a perfect image of her family and willing herself to believe it. The cracks creep in so slowly, hairline fractures that trace their way across the book like veins of mould, so that the true extent of the damage comes as a shock.

The language in this novel is exquisite. The prose is so evocative and sensory, it is like being inside a poem as well as a psyche: the descriptions of food, of the games Erika plays with her children, and above all of the apartment, are so detailed and tactile and tangible – I felt as if I was there alongside them, tasting, feeling, smelling the rotting lemons and peering into the half-light of the darkened flat. It is hard to describe just how clever this book is – it not only pulls you right into Erika’s world, it holds you tightly, floods your senses, refuses to let you go – it is at times uncomfortably like being trapped. And this works SO well for the themes the novel explores – both motherhood and madness feel inescapable here. The only times I was able to pull myself out were in order to huff and puff at M’s behaviour, which Erika is far too accepting of, but my god, if ever there was a partner who misses the signs that all is not well, it is that man!

This is an extremely powerful, really quite harrowing book that left me horrified, but also in awe of Kyra Wilder’s talent as a writer. I don’t think I have read anything quite like this before. I loved the way this book is written: the prose is just so beautiful, sharp and clear and prismatic as cut glass, and I am excited to read more of this author’s work in the future.

Little Bandaged Days by Kyra Wilder is out now in paperback and is available to purchase here.

Blurb

Canceled Plans? –Check! Panic and Fear? – Check! Self- Isolation? – Check! Missing Friends? – Check! Gaining Weight? – Check! Binge-Watching TV? – Check! Lengthy Self – diggings? – Check! Hope? – Check, check, check! Who would have thought that Global Pandemic, Self-Isolation, Cluster, and a Lockdown were to become the trendiest words in 2020? Who would have imagined the world would freeze and people would stay home shattered with fear, panic, uncertainty towards their future? How do we adjust to this changing reality, when none of our questions have answers when plans turn upside down, and things get totally out of control?

In her new book: “From My Balcony to Yours,” author Nino Gugunishvili shares her personal account during the first several months of the COVID -19 global pandemic in the form of short stories and observations.

Nino Gugunishvili’s writing biography includes a collection of short stories “ You Will Have a Black Labrador” and a women’s fiction novel “ Friday Evening, Eight O’Clock.”

Review

Last year, I read Nino’s book You Will Have a Black Labrador and thought it was such a lovely, charming collection – so I was delighted when Nino kindly offered to send me another of her books in exchange for an honest review. From My Balcony to Yours is, I think, just about the first ‘pandemic lit’ I have read (I mean, we’re living it, and reading is my escape, so why would I…) – but somehow I knew that with Nino at the helm, it wouldn’t bring me down.

This is another very slim book, the perfect accompaniment to a lazy Sunday morning or a rainy afternoon. In similarly vignette-like chapters to Black Labrador, Nino shares her thoughts and musings on last year’s lockdown, in a way that actually made me nostalgic for Lockdown 1! It brought back a lot of the feelings I had first time round – the sense of time slowing, of the busyness of the outside world subsiding, of the shrinking of horizons to the four walls of home and a few local walks. There is Nino’s signature mix of humour, poignancy and eccentricity here, all written in a chatty, quirky style that I just so happen to adore. She skips through topics, dips in and out of memories, comments on the strangeness that so quickly became our norm, mentions both the boredom and the novelty, makes jokes, shares secrets, and always ends on a hopeful note.

I don’t know quite what it is about her writing, but Nino gives of herself and her thoughts so merrily, so openly, that it creates a real sense of intimacy. I’ve never met her, but I can imagine sitting outside a café in the sunshine with her, whiling away an entire afternoon chatting, laughing and being totally honest, in that way that sometimes you only can be with strangers, and just having the best time. Get this book, and Black Labrador, stick them in your bag, and when we start going places again, you’ll have a little slice of entertaining loveliness wherever you go.

From My Balcony to Yours by Nino Gugunishvili is out now and is available to purchase here.

Blurb

THIS MOTHER’S DAY YOU WILL CALL HER MUMMY

Glamorous, beautiful Mummy has everything a woman could want. Except for a daughter of her very own. So when she sees Kim – heavily pregnant, glued to her phone and ignoring her eldest child in a busy shop – she does what anyone would do. She takes her. But foul-mouthed little Tonya is not the daughter that Mummy was hoping for. As Tonya fiercely resists Mummy’s attempts to make her into the perfect child, Kim is demonised by the media as a ‘scummy mummy’, who deserves to have her other children taken too. Haunted by memories of her own childhood and refusing to play by the media’s rules, Kim begins to spiral, turning on those who love her. Though they are worlds apart, Mummy and Kim have more in common than they could possibly imagine. But it is five-year-old Tonya who is caught in the middle…

CALL ME MUMMY. IT’LL BE BETTER IF YOU DO.

Review

Having just read Ashley Audrain’s brilliantly dark novel The Push, I decided to continue with the theme of twisted motherhood and dive into this debut from Tina Baker. I have absolutely loved Tina’s wondeful promotion efforts on Twitter and Instagram (this seems like a good time to send massive kudos to all the wonderful debut authors launching in lockdown!) and have seen loads of positive – if slightly traumatised – comments from reviewers I admire, so I was excited to read this.

Call Me Mummy is another very dark book, and Mummy is a terrifying creation, not least because she is so convinced of her own righteousness. The style of the novel – short chapters made up not only of straightforward prose but also of Twitter feeds and other points of view, sometimes only a page or less, works really well – we get to see the drama unfold from different angles, and it is very astute on the gap between perception and reality. Kim is a great character – she is flawed, and even at times, dangerous as a parent, but her portrayal by the media is far removed from her internal journey.

The parallels between Kim and Mummy are very cleverly done, and add another layer to the story. The star of the book for me, though, has to be Tonya. In so few lines, so much is conveyed about this fierce, brilliant little girl – and it makes what she goes through all the more heartbreaking. Mummy chilled me to the bone, but Tonya brings a warm light all of her own to the story.

I shouldn’t have been surprised, having seen Tina’s hilarious posts on social media, but it did come as a pleasant shock to discover that this is also a very funny book. The humour is, of course, seriously dark – but I absolutely love that! When the fastidiously tidy Mummy realises that – would you believe it – kids are messy; when she goes from “all I ever wanted was a child” to “all I want is sleep” – I had to laugh. Even the gradual realisation of just how much of a monster Mummy is becomes deliciously tinted with irony as we are presented with her hideously warped view of reality. It’s a real skill to enter into the mind of a character so twisted and compel the reader to want follow you there – Baker achieves this wonderfully.

Parts of this novel are really distressing; others are bleakly funny, but there was never a moment where I wasn’t desperate to find out what happened next. It taps into every parent’s worst nightmare and plays the whole scenario through in technicolour, making for a shocking, all-consuming reading experience which left me feeling breathless. I think Call Me Mummy is a really original book, a fresh and dangerous story that cuts deep and leaves a lasting impression. I would love to read more books by this author.

Call Me Mummy by Tina Baker is out now from Viper Books and is available to purchase here.

Blurb

What if your experience of motherhood was nothing like what you hoped for – but everything you always feared?

‘The women in this family, we’re different . . .’

The arrival of baby Violet was meant to be the happiest day of my life. A fresh start.

But as soon as I held her in my arms, I knew something wasn’t right.

I have always known that the women in my family weren’t meant to be mothers.

My husband Fox says I’m imagining it, but she’s different with me. Something feels very wrong.

Is it her? Or is it me?

Is she the monster? Or am I?

The Push is an addictive, gripping and compulsive read asking what happens when women are not believed – and challenging everything we think we know about motherhood.

Review

I’d heard great things about this book, from book bloggers who have never let me down yet with their recommendations, so I treated myself to the gorgeous Waterstones special edition – yep, the one with the PURPLE sprayed edges. I actually wasn’t intending to read it this month, but it called out to me, and I couldn’t resist.

This book is astounding. It is so dark and powerful and so cleverly written. The structure builds towards the central incident with agonising tension, and then spirals out from it in a tangled web of consequences and possible causes, reaching back into the past and surging forwards into the present. I can’t talk about the plot too much for fear of spoiling anything, but Audrain’s narrative skill is breathtaking – the way the novel carefully controls the tension, turning up the dial in increments, makes it impossible to put this book down. I loved the progression of uncertainty, menace, doubt and terror – cycling between these point is an emotionally exhausting, utterly captivating journey for the reader.

The characters in The Push are fascinating. Blythe, the narrator, feels the weight of her history crushing her as she struggles to forge a new path, and the flashbacks of her mother and grandmother, Cecily and Etta, create a terrifying sense of the cyclical pattern she is so afraid of repeating. There is real darkness in this book, and at times it is a difficult read. These are characters who have suffered, are suffering, who are driven to desperate acts by sheer desperation. And Violet, who stains the pages (literally in my beautiful purple copy!) and haunts her mother’s nightmares – she is all the more disturbing for being unknowable. We never see her point of view, fully allied as we are with Blythe’s confessional-style narrative, written for her partner, Fox. The ‘you’ that Fox mostly exists as in the novel is another stylish feature of this intelligent novel – it adds another level of intimacy, as if we are spying on their relationship. I have to admit, I got very angry with him at several points, and was frustrated with Blythe’s acceptance of his treatment of her, his lack of understanding.

The Push could not be more aptly named. Rarely have I read a book with such surging momentum, such narrative force and drive. I read late into the night, and could hardly bear to pause to attend to my own motherly duties. I have been intentionally vague with regards to the plot, because it is just so shocking and brilliantly done, and it is best to go in without too much prior knowledge. If you like compelling, disturbing reads that will keep you up, The Push is absolutely the book for you. I will be thinking about it for a long time.

The Push by Ashley Audrain is published by Penguin Michael Joseph and is available to purchase here.

Somehow, I have managed to read eleven books this month, probably helped by the fact that I’ve not been sleeping all that well. I have read some brilliant new books, revisited some old friends, and discovered authors I can’t read more of. I’ve also been cracking on with Ducks, Newburyport – I am really enjoying it, and if I wasn’t a book blogger (perish the thought!) I’d be very tempted to just devote a couple of months to it and let it take me over! BUT there are many other literary delights awaiting, and I do enjoy the spice of variety!

Circus of Wonders by Elizabeth Macneal (2021)

I was so excited to receive an advanced copy of Elizabeth Macneal’s second novel, having loved her debut The Doll Factory. It isn’t out until May, but I just couldn’t resist diving straight in. It was just what I needed to kick off the reading month – a fabulous novel that ticked every box for me. I adored it. You can read my full thoughts here. This is one to get pre-ordered for sure!

The Hobbit by J.R.R Tolkien (1937)

I reread this as a precursor to a marathon Lord of the Rings readalong I’m doing with some of my crew from The Write Reads. I haven’t read it in years, and it was an unexpected joy to return to Bilbo’s story. I had such a lovely, nostalgic time rereading The Hobbit – I’d forgotten enough of the details to keep me interested, and the parts I remembered felt like visiting old friends. I’m really glad I decided to join in with this readalong. I’ve started rereading LOTR and I am absolutely loving it, too.

Kololo Hill by Neema Shah (2021)

Sometimes I get a really strong feeling about a book before I even read it. I just knew that I was going to love this debut novel by Neema Shah, and it did not disappoint for a moment. This is a powerful story beautifully told, and I can’t stop shouting about how wonderful it is! For more, see my full review here.

The Mysterious Affair at Styles by Agatha Christie (1920)

I do love a debut novel, even if it’s one from over a hundred years ago! Along with some of my crew from The Write Reads, I’ve embarked on a Poirot readalong, so I’ve gone back to the start. I enjoyed this one, though not quite as much as the two I read last month. It was good to meet Hastings, though, and I love the dynamic between him and Poirot.

The Last Words of Madeleine Anderson by Helen Kitson (2019)

I am a big fan of indie publisher Louise Walters Books, and since I managed to get a spot on the blog tour for Helen’s second novel, Old Bones, this month, I decided to read her first novel, too. I have to admit, it took me a while to get into this book, as the story is really quite peculiar, but once I abandoned myself to the quirks of the narrative, I really enjoyed it. It serves as a good introduction to the village of Morevale, too.

The Strays of Paris by Jane Smiley (2021)

I am a big fan of Jane Smiley, and I was really excited to discover that she has a new novel out. The Strays of Paris is a lovely slice of escapism, beautifully written, the perfect distraction from all the chaos going on in the world right now. You can read my full review here.

Nightshift by Kiare Ladner (2021)

I was completely sucked into the half-lit, nocturnal world of this gripping debut novel. I read the whole book in one go, unable to stop reading the story of Meggie’s obsession with the mysterious Sabine. Highly recommended – check out my full review here.

The Murder on the Links by Agatha Christie (1923)

More Poirot, and more Hastings, in this France-set adventure. It took me a bit longer to read this one, possibly because it gets even more complicated than usual towards the end, with red herrings leaping about all over the place, and rather a lot of mistaken identity. I enjoyed it, though, and I liked seeing Hastings get more involved in the action.

Old Bones by Helen Kitson (2021)

My second Helen Kitson book of the month returns to the village of Morevale, this time centring on three women in their sixties. Past disappointments cast a shadow over their present, and secrets come to light in surprising ways. You can read my full review here.

Cemetery Boys by Aiden Thomas (2020)

This was another Write Reads crew readalong, and I am so glad I read it. I don’t read much YA at all, and I really don’t know why! This story of the brujx in LA ,who have access to the spirit world, and Yadriel’s quest for acceptance by them, is fresh, funny, occasionally terrifying, and often very moving. I loved it, and it has made me want to read more in this genre. Luckily I know a few readers who might have one or two further suggestions for me!

Fortune’s Hand by R.N. Morris

My final read of the month was perhaps the biggest surprise. A historical novel based on the life of Walter Raleigh may not sound like it is going to be a particularly wild ride, but that is exactly what this bold, experimental, thrilling book is. The writing is astounding – R.N. Morris is a fiercely talented author – and the originality of this book absolutely blew me away. You can read my full review here. If you are at all tempted, do check this one out, it is something very special indeed.

All in all, it’s been another fab reading month. I have also launched my new business, providing creative writing feedback, which is off to a good start, and of course juggled the joys of lockdown life with two smalls. I have masses of exciting books to look forward to in March, and I am holding out hope for a little more sleep, too!

Happy reading!

Ellie x

Blurb

Adventurer, soldier, courtier, poet, prisoner – outsider.

Drawn by ambition to Elizabeth’s court, Walter Raleigh soon becomes the queen’s favourite. But his meteoric rise attracts the enmity of powerful rivals.

Sir Francis Walsingham, the queen’s spy master, proves a dangerous enemy.

While the Earl of Oxford is an equally dangerous friend.

Even Elizabeth’s favour is an uncertain gift. It can be withdrawn on a whim as easily as it is granted and earns him as much trouble as it does profit.

Seeking gold for his queen and glory for himself, Raleigh launches a series of ever more reckless adventures.

The ultimate prize he dreams of is the fabled city of Eldorado in the New World. He is possessed by the dream.

After Elizabeth’s death, Raleigh fails to find favour with the new king and is imprisoned in the Tower.

To restore his reputation, he embarks on his most desperate venture yet.

By now an old and broken man, he risks everything to discover the city of his dreams.

Recommended for fans of Hilary Mantel, Joseph O’Connor and CJ Sansom.

Review

First of all, huge thanks to the author for sending me a copy of Fortune’s Hand in exchange for an honest review. I am sorry it has taken me so long to get around to reading it, especially as when I finally did, it blew me away! I think maybe the cover and tagline out me off subconsciously, as it might seem like this is a slightly dry historical tome, but it really is anything but. It also has quite small print, so if you struggle reading smaller fonts, you’d be better off getting the ebook. Right, that’s the superficial gripes dealt with, sorry. In terms of content, Fortune’s Hand was a revelation. This book is daring, different, and a real treat.

The prose is so powerful: muscular, meaty, surging – it reminded me not only of Mantel but of Emily Bullock, whose brilliant historical novel Inside the Beautiful Inside I read last year, and, like Bullock’s book, it also put me in mind of William Golding’s Rites of Passage trilogy. It is important to state that I don’t mean Morris’ prose imitates or approximates these writers – I mean it is just as strong and unique – a take-no-prisoners style (ironically, as Raleigh does his fair share of prisoner-taking) that marches to its own inexorable rhythm. What I loved most was the way the novel marries a contemporary, experimental narrative style with perfectly pitched old-fashioned language. Like Mantel, Morris inhabits his protagonist fully and utterly convincingly, so that character of Raleigh completely takes over the book. It is masterful.

Raleigh himself is depicted as complex, often unlikeable, but strangely admirable for his ability to play the game at court and, as he says of another courtier, to always land on his feet (until he doesn’t). The opening chapter gives a flavour of the kind of telescopic vision Walter possesses in the novel, sending his eyes out over the ocean and under the sea, questing and seeking out knowledge and discoveries in a beautifully poetic way. His all-seeing point of view works so gorgeously with his role as explorer, and the balance of these really quite intellectually and philosophically complex ideas of omniscience with the raw, brutal action scenes in the book is perfectly done.

All the way through Fortune’s Hand, the sublime walks hand in hand with the ridiculous, or rather, the beauty of much of the prose is shot through with coarse humour (much of which made me chuckle out loud). The swearing is some of the best I have come across – Morris takes his cue from Shakespeare and reminds us just how colourfully and crudely the Elizabethans could curse. If you object to the ‘c’ word, this is not the book for you. There is horrific violence, shocking brutality, a whole host of heinous behaviours that rip the velvet curtain from ‘genteel’ courtly ideals, and it is brilliant. Each chapter is short, almost vignette-like, and at times Morris plays with form in inventive ways that add yet another layer to this complex novel. It isn’t always easy to orientate yourself as a reader in the narrative, but I really enjoyed puzzling out where we’d got up to in Raleigh’s story.

I read this book much more quickly than I thought I would, unable to put it down. Special mention must go to the depiction of Gloriana herself: Elizabeth I is here painted as you’ve never seen her before, and it is indeed glorious. The grotesque crumbling of her face behind the white mask, the way ‘Water’ reassesses the expression in her eyes as he gets to know her better – the connection between Raleigh and Elizabeth is one of the absolute highlights of this book.

For me, the most exciting thing about historical fiction is how surprisingly contemporary and innovative it can be. Fortune’s Hand is not an easy read, both in terms of structure and subject matter, but my god it is exciting. I was left buzzing, feeling as if I had been introduced to a blazing writing talent, an author who dares to tread where others would not. It is an extraordinary work of fiction, and I’ll never be able to think of Walter Raleigh in the same way again.

Fortune’s Hand by R.N. Morris is published by Sharpe Books and is available to purchase here.

Blurb

Diana and her sister Antonia are house-sharing spinsters who have never got over their respective first loves. Diana owns a gift shop, but rarely works there. Antonia is unemployed, having lost her teaching job at an all girls’ school following a shocking outburst in the classroom after enduring years of torment. Diana is a regular at the local library, Antonia enjoys her “nice” magazines, and they treat themselves to coffee and cake once a week in the village café.

Naomi lives alone, haunted by the failure of her two marriages. She works in the library, doesn’t get on with her younger colleagues, and rarely cooks herself a proper meal. Secretly she longs for a Boden frock.

When a body is discovered in the local quarry, all three women’s lives are turned upside down. And when Diana’s old flame Gill turns up unexpectedly, tensions finally spill over and threaten to destroy the outwardly peaceful lives all three women have carefully constructed around themselves.

Helen takes us back to the fictional Shropshire village of Morevale in this, her brilliant second novel which exposes the fragilities and strengths of three remarkably unremarkable elderly women.

Review

If there is a pattern developing to the books I do the most blog tours for, it is this: Damp Pebbles-run tours featuring books published by fab indie press Louise Walters Books. Dream team! Thank you to Emma and Louise for having me on the tour, and for providing me with a digital copy in exchange for an honest review. Although, of course, I couldn’t resist buying both Old Bones and Helen Kitson’s previous novel The Last Words of Madeleine Anderson!

The two books are both set in Morevale, but are standalones (with a couple of sly references to the first book in Old Bones, which I always enjoy!) and while I am glad I read them both, you don’t need to read The Last Words of Madeleine Anderson before you dive into Old Bones. Which you should – this book is quirky, original, and, most importantly, focuses entirely on three women ‘of a certain age’ – a group which is often neglected in fiction. The relationship between the ‘spinster sisters’ Diana and Antonia is painfully fraught and antagonistic, riven with the hurts and rivalries of many years, and yet they are curiously dependent on one another. It isn’t always pleasant to listen to them bicker and needle each other, but it rings true, and as their pasts come to light, it is clear where these old wounds come from. There are brilliantly depicted moments of arrested development, where their childish sniping and petty revenge schemes tip over into humour (particularly in the case of Antonia, who is a constant source of exasperation for her sister). The third protagonist, Naomi, is a sadder, lonelier figure, and I found Kitson’s exploration of her character interesting and insightful.

The story itself is full of twists and turns, and, like The Last Words of Madeleine Anderson, it is always surprising in terms of how and when Kitson chooses to make revelations. We often find things out, or at least infer them, long before some of the characters, and this makes for an intriguing reading experience. I found myself waiting for confirmation rather than new information a lot of the time, which fits with the hazy rumours and second-guessing that flies around the village. It is hard to explain how Kitson manages to keep up the element of surprise in this book – it isn’t through startling disclosures (important plot points are dropped in almost casually at times) but rather through picking over the ramifications of these disclosures, surprising us with the characters’ reactions, rather than the dramatic events themselves. It is very clever, and very original.

The themes of disappointment and missed opportunities hang heavy in this book, but there are glimmers of hope. At its heart, Old Bones seems to me to be a book which explores the fact that everyone has their own peculiar trajectory, that the mundane and the dramatic weave together to form personal histories which echo into our present reality. As we follow these women through their everyday lives, we see how the past haunts each of them, a tangible presence that they cannot escape from. But we also see how they endure, survive, get on with things, make their own way as best they can. Old Bones is a quietly intriguing book, shining a light on characters all too often written off or forgotten, and it provides an enjoyably different reading experience.

About the Author

Helen lives in Worcester with her husband, two teenaged children and two rescue cats. Her first poetry collection was nominated for the Forward Best First Collection Prize. She has published three other poetry collections and her short fiction has appeared in magazines including Ambit, Feminist Review and Stand. She holds a BA (Hons) in Humanities.

Helen’s debut novel The Last Words of Madeleine Anderson was published in March 2019. Her second “Morevale” novel, Old Bones, will be published on 16 January 2021.

Social Media

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Jemima_Mae_7

Purchase Links

Louise Walters Books: http://bit.ly/37dpwKM

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2LPuDKI

Foyles: https://bit.ly/3pdjamn

Waterstones: http://bit.ly/3660WMc

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/365gdwN

Publishing Info

Published by Louise Walters Books in paperback and digital formats on 18^th January 2021

Right, this is going to be a bit of a sentimental, rambling post, for which I would apologise, but hey, it’s my blog, and I’ll witter on if I want to. It is just over a year since I started getting involved with the book blogging community. I’ve had this blog for a lot longer than that, but it was an intermittent, personal reading record that never got any views, and for long periods of time I did nothing at all with it. Last year, I decided to share it on my previously inactive Twitter account, and looking back, I am amazed and delighted by all the joyous things that have sprung from that spur of the moment decision.

I’ve always been a big reader, and it feeds into my writing, but there was a stretch when I didn’t read at all. Unsurprisingly, perhaps, it coincided with having two babies in two years. Getting back into reading was a lovely feeling for me – it made me feel more like ‘Ellie’ again, and, even better, it made me want to write again. In 2019 I managed to complete a novel draft, and to read more books than I had done for a very long time. So last year, little knowing how much I would come to appreciate my new online community with all that 2020 had in store for us, I took the blog ‘public’, and, I guess, officially became a Book Blogger.

It is honestly one of the best things I’ve ever done. I feel as if I have found my tribe, my people – a massive group of avid readers who love books just as much as I do. It is quite wonderful. The support I have received has been amazing. I remember getting a message from the lovely Jodie, who blogs at Witty and Sarcastic Book Blog, suggesting I get in touch with Dave at The Write Reads and join the newbie book blogger group. Now I have a massive support group of wonderful bloggers, and I do readalongs every month with a bunch of them (currently reading Cemetery Boys, all the Poirots, and about to start a Lord of The Rings reread marathon.) I also got to know some very special women who have been an absolute lifeline for me, my gorgeous Squadpod bloggers. Their support has got me through the last year, and it has meant so much to me. The fact that I’ve never met any of these people in real life doesn’t change how much I value their friendship. Stop me before I start welling up.

And the books! I could not believe it the first time I was offered a review copy of a book – I didn’t know such things existed. I was happy to potter on writing reviews of books I had bought, not paying much attention to publication dates and so forth, but joining Book Twitter opened up some fantastic opportunities to read and review advanced copies of books that weren’t even out yet, and it blew my mind. It is an absolute privilege, one I will never take for granted, and it seems to me to be mostly a really lovely symbiotic relationship whereby readers get the joy of an early read, and authors/publishers get a bit of a boost. My husband was delighted at first as he thought this meant no more book buying – how wrong he was! If I like a proof, I’ll usually buy a finished copy to support the author (and always if it is one I have specifically requested) and of course, the recommendations of other bloggers are far too tempting! I have never owned as many unread books as I do at the moment – and sometimes it does make me feel a bit guilty – but I know I will get to them all. Eventually. I don’t request a lot of proofs, just ones I really can’t resist, but I do buy more books these days, and I’m also starting to get sent surprise books, which is so exciting and lovely.

I’ve been introduced to so many new authors, to wonderful indie publishers, to a whole group of fantastically supportive book lovers, and even if, from time to time, the nastier side of social media gives me a bit of a shock, I still generally find Book Twitter an absolutely joyous place to ‘be’. I’ve enjoyed dipping my toe into Bookstagram, too, and although I feel a bit silly stacking up books for arty snaps, I have to admit, I also find it pretty fun. (I still don’t entirely understand Instagram, though.)

Just a few of the highlights have been: discovering indie presses like Bluemoose Books and their wonderful authors (who have shown me such kindness); doing some fab blog tours with the lovely Emma at Damp Pebbles; being invited by Helen Cullen to take part in a Christmas reading of the first chapter of her book The Truth Must Dazzle Gradually; having a phone consultation with Louise Walters Books author Diana Cambridge and getting some brilliant advice for moving forward with my own novel; and recently, finally taking the leap to set up my own little writing feedback business, something I have wanted to do for a very long time.

I know this is a bit of a self-indulgent post, but at the risk of sounding like an Oscars acceptance speech, I really just wanted to say a massive THANK YOU to everyone. It has been a hell of year, for global and personal reasons, but the community and support I’ve found here has meant the world to me, and I can’t wait to see what the next year of sharing the book love will bring.

Happy reading!

Ellie x

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Blurb

Nightshift is a story of obsession set in London’s liminal world of nightshift workers.

When twenty-three-year-old Meggie meets distant and enigmatic Sabine, she recognizes in her the person she would like to be. Giving up her daytime existence, her reliable boyfriend, and the trappings of a normal life in favour of working the same nightshifts as Sabine could be the perfect escape for Meggie. She finds a liberating sense of freedom in indulging her growing preoccupation with Sabine and plunges herself into another existence, gradually immersing herself in the transient and uncertain world of the nightshift worker.

Dark, sexy, frightening, Nightshift explores ambivalent female friendship, sexual attraction and lives that defy easy categorization. London’s stark urban reality is rendered other-worldly and strange as Meggie’s sleep deprivation, drinking and fixation with Sabine gain a momentum all of their own. Can Meggie really lose herself in her trying to become someone else?

A novel of obsession and desire, Kiare Ladner’s Nightshift is a beautiful and moving debut which asks profound questions about who we are and if we can truly escape ourselves.

Review

Many thanks to Grace Harrison at Picador for sending me a beautiful finished copy of Nightshift in exchange for an honest review. I was very keen to read this as it sounded right up my street, with shades of Exit Management by Naomi Booth, my top book of last year. I was not disappointed. I read this stunning debut novel in one night, appropriately enough (it is the perfect companion to insomnia, by the way) because I could not put it down once I had started.

What I loved most about this book is how far beneath the surface it pushes. We are all familiar with the stories of early twenty-somethings living in the city, trying to make sense of their lives, but often it is a rather cliched, light version. If you’ll excuse the pun, it is the darkness of Nightshift that makes it so striking. Meggie, the narrator, is indeed a drifting, rootless young adult searching for some kind of meaning, but there is a nihilistic edge – and a sharp intelligence – that take her journey deeper into existential psychology than most portrayals of this age group. She has a kind of experimental approach to her existence which put me in mind of the narrator of Ottessa Moshfegh’s brilliant novel My Year of Rest and Relaxation, though I found Meggie more sympathetic and easier to identify with.

The relationship between Meggie and Sabine is so deliciously complicated. It is sexual, and sexy for that matter, but there is so much more to it than that. The way that Meggie fixates on Sabine, takes on her gestures and habits, longs to be her – I feel as if Ladner has really tapped into that early twenties out of control feeling, that search for something out of reach that often leads us to latch onto friends and members of our social group. As well as recognising the impulse, I was shocked and surprised by how far the notion is pushed. This is a fantastic portrayal of obsession, nuanced and gripping and completely all-consuming for the reader.

The other members of the nightshift crew round out the cast of characters beautifully. Earl, Prawn, Lizard, Sherry – it throws you back to those times when your coworkers became your friends, your family even, in some ways. I lived abroad in my early twenties, and that sense of creating your own family substitute, a group you saw day after day (and night after night) came flooding back to me as I read this book (as did the epic all-nighters, but my Dad sometimes reads my posts, so I’ll keep quiet about that).

The whole mood of Nightshift is so cleverly allied to Meggie’s sleep-deprived, fuzzy, substance-fuelled state. There is that feeling of unreality you get from nocturnal adventures, the sense that out of sight of the bright light of day, anything is possible, good and bad. The novel did loosen its grip on me slightly towards the end, but the whole experience of reading it was so thrilling and visceral, it was like being submerged in another consciousness. I highly recommend this book to anyone who wants to be thrown into the murky, half-lit world of London by night, with two fascinatingly complex characters as your reckless guides.

Nightshift by Kiare Ladner is published by Picador and is out on 18th February. It is available to purchase here.