Guilty By Definition by Susie Dent 

Yes, THAT Susie Dent.  The personification of an academic crush and author of several great books on the meaning of words. Sadly, this is hung too heavily on that framework and doesn’t have enough verve or warmth to fit onto the increasingly overloaded bookshelves of cosy crime.  

Martha is a lexicographer working in Oxford.  She begins to receive postcards, referencing literature and words about her sister Charlotte, who disappeared over a decade ago.  That, in itself is a pretty familiar concept.  Plus, most books feature a protagonist who is based on its author - Martha, with her work for ‘Clarendon English Dictionary’ and appearances on TV is no exception.  

The real problem with this novel is the use of definition, in its literal sense.  Barely a page goes by without the meaning of an obscure word, even the chapter titles themselves.  It’s an amiable enough read, and Martha and her Scooby Gang of word lovers will probably return. But it’s not dynamic enough as a crime novel, nor is it learned enough to be an almanac.  

It’s a ‘copacetic’ read, but not a ‘meritorious’ one.  It’s published by Bonnier Books on 15th August and I thank them for a preview copy.  #guiltybydefinition

 Good Chaps by Simon Kuper:

Good Chaps is the literary equivalent of what cinema calls a ‘wet print’.  It’s about corruption in public life and is we head towards next Thursday, with a possible sea change in British politics in the air - it becomes a very timely, relevant read.  

Kuper’s main theory that there always has, at some level been corruption in public life.  He mentions old classics like Profumo, Marples and Poulson.  Even ones we’ve forgotten about, such as Blair taking money from Bernie Ecclestone in exchange for stubbing out a comprehensive ban on tobacco advertising in sport.  

But maybe we should credit Thatcher for having some form of principles, asking cabinet ministers to buy their own sandwiches for meetings.  From Major on, corruption seeps in British life as much as sewage seeps into rivers.  

He’s good on the current list of billionaires from different parts of the world who fund the Tory Party; where you can bid a hundred grand on breakfast with Johnson.  But equally, the interconnectedness of British politics, where Paul Marshall can fund GB News AND be a major donor to The Church Of England.  

It’s a short read, lurid and shocking but well argued and even offers solutions.  You should read it as a solution to a very English disease, where things can only get better.  It’s published by Profile Books on  and I thank them and Rachel Quin for a preview copy.  #goodchaps. 

Minchin is known as the former co-presenter of BBC Breakfast.  It’s a debut novel that makes the same mistakes as all debut novels, but is too chaotically structured to be a truly entertaining read.  

The title is a fictional reality show, Celebs have to perform tasks, with their heart’s desire as the prize.  Lauren is a TV documentary maker.  She’s joined by a soap star, twin bloggers, an ex pop star, two athletes, a Hollywood icon and an action movie star.  But Lauren is there with her own agenda.  

I know that sounds oblique, but to say more would spoil potential enjoyment of the novel.  The key incident in it takes place about halfway through and from then it accelerates to the end at confusing speed.  The characters aren’t fleshed out enough, even through it is fairly obvious who they are based on.  One exits the novel early, for no apparent reason.  

Michin’s writing style is curious too; with a use of present tense with sentences and descriptive passages that are just too verb heavy.  With better editing and structure, she’ll write a better novel.   But it’s a book that doesn’t make the most of its Traitorous, Faustian concept.  It’s published by Headline on September 12th and I thank them for a preview copy.  #isolationisland.  

 Old Soul by Susan Barker:

Again, another book for 2025.  Old Soul is an artfully written book, dark and scary about a demonic presence called The Tyrant, technically hundreds of years old (but possibly thousands) as it inhabits the souls of people in different time periods. 

It’s an artfully written book, but the prose is some too prolix or allusive to be truly scary.  However, it is an assemblage of styles and formats that doesn’t quite work.  The connections between each chapter flash back and forward, with the odd shiver here and there to keep the cauldron boiling.  

I would say the book’s biggest flaw is for such an expansive plot, the book seems to have too much of a butterfly mind to truly succeed.  And in the novel’s epilogue, a particularly gory final chapter is retconned.  It’s a technically efficient book, but one that is too artfully constructed to be truly scary.  It’s published by Penguin on February 6th, 2025 and I thank them for a preview copy.  #oldsoul

 Cloudless by Rupert Dastur:  

North Wales, 2004: John and Catrin are struggling farmers with a teenage son and another serving  in Iraq.  Over the course of a year, we follow a fractured relationship, infidelity and instability through the lens of the Welsh landscape and what are now historical events. 

It’s funny to think of 2004-05 as ancient history, but it is.  This is debut novel and it’s a well-written, thoughtful debut.  However, I think the biggest problem is in its structure.  The framing device is the Iraq War and its subsequent enquiry - each chapter begins with a death toll for that month in the narrative. 

Events also seem to have some weighted significance - everything seems to have relevance to something else. You can make an educated guess at to what’s going to happen to the son in Iraq.  The narrative also seems to have a number of themes (death, fate, chance, marriage) but there is not enough interconnectedness between them.  The novel also ends with a coda a decade later which wraps things up a little too neatly.  

In conclusion, it’s a portentious debut, with the prose too dense to just let the story drift.  It’s published by Penguin on February 27th, 2025 and I thank them for a preview copy.  #cloudless

 Hollywood To Kentish Town by Patrice Chaplin: 

To answer your first question, she is related to him.  But let’s talk about the book, shall we?  In the 1980’s, she’s in and out of the Hollywood set, desperately trying to get her novel Siesta made as a film.  In between that, she is coping with the Hollywood system.  The pitfalls of that are lying someone $100k to read your screenplay, Brando’s appetite for food and an extremely flirtatious (as you’d expect) Nicholson.  

It’s not the kiss and tell that has been done before.  Admittedly, it is a slight read (under 150 pages), but it’s an elegant, sophisticated, non-linear one. It’s also a very skilful, contrasting the bleak uncertainties of 1970’s London, with the brash, sunlit gaze of Hollywood.  

It’s published by Quadrant Books on 20th June and I thank Grace Pilkington for a preview copy.  

If any king needed a biography, it’s a Henry. Much of that mythos is bound up in Shakespeare, St Crispin’s Day and the idea of England as a lion-hearted country.  Jones has form in this area and he takes a masterly, well-researched look at the king.  

The inciting incident is The Battle Of Shrewsbury, in 1403. A teenaged Henry is putting down the Welsh rebels, when he takes an arrow in the face.  The details of its removal are gory, but nothing in comparison to the grit and gore of medieval England, with burning of heretics, a rebel hanged twelve times in twelve different cities and pregnant woman left for wolves.  Faint hearted readers, tread carefully. 

The attempt is to reposition Henry as a man, not a warrior.  And it succeeds in that, depicting him as someone who loved books and music, not the favourite of his Father, but becomes king of a turbulent England and prosecutes a brutal war with France.

Agincourt is portrayed as the middle; not the end of a campaign.  Henry marries Catherine (after being offered her at 7, 9 and 12).  He dies at the age of 35, either of smallpox or dysentery.  Jones has succeeded in an essay of a man, not a king.  It’s published by Head Of Zeus on September 12th and I thank them for a preview copy.  #henryv.  

Lou is a girl in the lower sixth of a Liverpool comp.  Her English teacher asks her to help Isobel acclimatise to school life - her family have moved from London.  Initially, Lou and Isobel don’t like each other… but against the scarlet background of the city, A Levels and friendship… something blossoms.  

Ok, by now you should have sussed this is a teen Scouse version of Pride And Prejudice (Lou as Elizabeth and Isobel as Darcy).  And that also works in the settings - substitute boho Liverpool, beach parties, Ladies Day at Aintree and going out in your PJ’s for balls and banquets.  Isobel even has a nasty old bat of an auntie, Austenites will love that.  

But this is no bad thing.  It’s got an enthusiasm, a warmth and wit that I’ve not encountered this year. And although this is YA book that knows its audience well (with themes of sexuality, neurodiversity, revenge porn) it’s far too good for them. Buy it for the teenager in your life and read it first.  

Leanne Egan should also be congratulated for writing a book that is both definitely Scouse, a brilliant debut and one of my favourite books this year.  It’s published by Harper Collins on 4th July and I thank them for preview copy.  #loverbirds.  

 Marigold Mind Laundry by Jungeun Yun

Jiuen is a mythical creature who arrives in Korea.  She creates a laundry, where painful experiences can be wiped from your life and wisdom is dispensed with snacks.  

The books is a massive success in its homeland and it will probably replicate that here.  It’s written in a very child-like parable structure, with the stories appearing to be interlinked in some way.  There’s also the element of Jiuen might well be millions of years old and can manifest metaphysical washing machines and the elimination of pain through magic. 

About midway through, the novel becomes episodic, with each ‘life lesson’ delivered and the next one incoming.  The narrative is also wrapped up far too neatly and with possibly the oldest of plot devices.  

Often moving, sometimes too mythical for it’s own good this mix of self-help and magic realism never quite fits together, though it will have the same cultural place as Life Of Pi.  It’s published by Penguin on October 3rd and I thank them for a preview copy.  #marigoldmindlaundry.  

 Bless Your Heart - Lindy Ryan

In pre-millenial Texas, three generations of Evans women run a smalltown funeral parlour.  Their business also covers protecting the town from Strigoi, the restless spirits of the dead.  A major incursion, plus their granddaughter in high school causes big problems.  

One look at the cover, you’d consider this to be both cute and arch.  It’s not quite that, but the early sections work well - deep fried Southern wisdom, combined with some actually well-written gore (one victim is literally gnawed to death by a toothless pensioner).  

Where the novel fails is in a clunking narrative and a mix of styles - high school novel, dark comic novel, police procedural and fantasy novel - and never really settles for either.  The 1999 timeframe seems odd, but with a key event taking police 25 years before and with the way the novel ends; I feel this might be the last we’ve not seen of The Evan’s’.  A sharper, more committed narrative might give the whole thing more bite, rather than gums.   It’s published by Rebellion on 18th July and I thank them for a preview copy.  #blessyourheart. 

 Milf by Paloma Faith:

Normally, I avoid ‘celebrity’ books - they bring me out in a rash.  However, I find Paloma Faith an interesting character.  And this book doesn’t disappoint.  Partially, is an attempt to reclaim the word and give it a positive spin. But that is only partially the purpose of it.  

She is brutally honest about her own sexuality, miscarriage, motherhood, IVF, the break up of the relationship with her children’s Dad and her own life. Mixed in with that, is her perceptions for what it is like being a woman artist, raising two kids as a single parent and contrasting her own life with her Mother’s.  

In broader terms, she talks about her own hopes for what the future of feminism looks like.  And if that is the intention of this book - one that changes the world - time will tell. But it’s that non-linear, snapshot style of the book that shouldn’t work, does.  Paloma Faith has added her another string to her bow in being such a skilled, candid and funny writer.

It is a pleasant surprise to find something that is both glitzy and gritty.  It’s published by Ebury on June 6th and I thank them for a preview copy.  #MILF