The Story Collector by Iris Costello

 This book blends three seemly disparate female  narratives and keeps the reader guessing.till the very end.  In WW1 London, Kitty is a German immigrant in a relationship with Gillian, who finds a new persona to save her own.  In a German prisoner of war camp, Miriam assists a professor recording the dialects of captured British soldiers.  And in modern day Cornwall, recently widowed artist Kitty has left London after the death of her husband.  She begins work on a new commission for a deck of tarot cards.  

As I say, disparate.  Costello blends the three narratives together skilfully and keeps the reader guessing till the very end.  To say so much would ruin the rich surprises therein, but let’s just say that all families have their secrets… even fictional ones. And pay attention!  

 It’s part social history, part linguistic text, part family history and is an eminently readable book.  I also think that it’’s one of those books, in an age where everything you read gets streamed it will be available on tv soon.  It’s a page turner with depth, weight and optimism.  It’s published on 29th February and my thanks go to Penguin books for a preview copy.  

Eris by Larry Gaudet

Eris is set against the background of a sandbox game called Greenhouse, the common thread of a dystopian future.  When it’s creator’s son is kidnapped by a terrorist group, hoping to create a more simpler, but less digital world; the secret’s of the past come to threaten a possible future.  

It’s a pacy read that will be prefect for poolside next Summer.  That near future seems well realised and I’d also praise a book where it is both queer and neurodiverse positive.  Where I would think it needed a sharper cursor is that it seems both anti-capitalist and friendly to the concept of a digitised and unified world.  The speed of the narrative will suit its audience; especially as it gets more frantic towards the end (which also seems a little too neat).  The multiple POV’s of four main characters work well, but the ‘in game’ narrative feels more like an epistolary novel.  

However, the target audience of geeks like myself who inherited the earth will enjoy it.  It’s released by Dundurn Press on 9th June and I thank them for a preview copy.  

Pity by Andrew McMillan

Pity is marketed as a novel about The Miner’s Strike and when it’s published the media will be analysing its fortieth anniversary.  There’s more too to it than that, it’s more of a post-industrial novel.  See also its references to being a gay teenager in the 1980’s, then Clause 28, being a closeted gay man in 21st century England, amongst the ruins of Thatcherism/neo-liberalism.

It’s definitely a Yorkshire novel too, with ginnels and snap.  However, I would draw attention to its tone and style with multiple POV’s, plus the overriding concept of fantasy versus reality.  It’s also an incredibly short book.  On reflection though, there is enough here to both intrigue and inspire the left-leaning reader; with a small act of defiance magnified and giving a greater resolution.  And as we slide in into election year, that’s important.  

It’s published by Canongate on February 8th and my thanks go to them for a preview copy.   

The Amendments by Niamh Mulvey

Book blogging is a serious business.   You have to read greedily, rapidly, objectively.  So therefore, it was a genuine pleasure to read this.  And if I had read it for pleasure, I’d class it as one of the best novels of recent years.  I certainly don’t think I’ll read better in 

It’s a family story, with Nell and Adrienne about to become parents; with Nell’s life, mirroring that of her Mother Dolores.  Measured against this is about forty years of Irish history and how women interact with other women.  But it’s broader than that, looking at the fulfilling of fighting with your own past when you could just settle for being happy.

For this of you who like comparisons, it has the wabisabi of Kate Sawyer, with the precision of Anne Enright.  And as the latter is one of my favourites, I’ll say that she has that precise, slightly aloof edge to her prose.  For her first proper novel, this is a stunning debut.  My thanks go to Picador for a review copy.  It’s published on April 18th.  

The Gallopers by Jon Ransom

The Gallopers is a curious beast.  In 1950’s England, Eli begins a passionate relationship with Jimmy, a fairground worker.  The relationship is of the brief, passionate and sexual kind that lingers in the mind and often defines whom we are of people.  It’s one where the latter is emphasised, with sex scenes that although well-written are just as easily perfunctory and brutal.  

It’s written in a sparse, first person stream of consciousness and that gives the air of something dream-like, almost imagined.  And midway through the books there is a change of tone as Eli and Jimmy’s affair is depicted as a playscript some thirty years after that latent heat is still there.  Who wrote it?  It’s not explained and although most books use an omnipotent, omniscient narrator is a daring change of tone.   

It has the maturity and growth a second novel should have and where there are rough edges, Ransom has the skills to make the ride smoother next time around, the sweeteners is already in his skill set. 

My thanks go to Muswell Press for a review copy.  

The Knowing by Emma Hinds

Early days, but I think this a stunning novel to start 2024. It’s a horror novel that is scary where it needs to be scary, a romance novel where the romance tale several turns and where our hero finds happiness in a different way from the average romance and a book on feminine survival in the face of male violence. 

In 19th century New York, Flora is rescued from a life of sexual violence and virtual slavery in Jordan’s tattoo parlour. Her benefactors are Chester and Minnie and she becomes a member of ‘polite’ society where her skills to read tarot are an amusement to those who are both rich and bored. But Flora also has the skills to raise the dead and that is something that is a powerful, double edged-weapon. 

Emma Hinds is skilled at the grit, smoke and violence of both a resurgent New York and an industrial Manchester. She is also skilled at keeping the slow burning of question of whether the eponymous knowing is real or imagined. But this is a novel about escaping your past and becoming the purest version of yourself, scars and all. Readers of Sarah Waters will love it, but for me it’s the scariest thing I’ve read since Lauren Owen’s Small Angels.  My thanks go to Bedford Square Publishers for the preview copy.