Hey, Zoey by Sarah Crossan:

Dolores works in a comprehensive and David is anaesthethist. They have a nice house and good friends.  They’re also in a bit of rut.  Said rut becomes a rift,  when Dolores discovers her husband's animatronic sex doll Zoey bagged up in the garage.  

It’s an ingenious idea and one that has massive potential.  Sadly, it isn’t explored to the full extent of that.  The discovery of Zoey leads Dolores to re-evaluate her relationship (conclusion: not that great in the first place), plus the other aspects of her life (a sister with a burgeoning career  in the New York art scene/in a mental health crisis/ a mother with dementia).  The creepiest parts of the book is where Zoey becomes a BFF.  But again, the novel’s tone seems conversational, where it should be confrontational, seeming content to hint at things where it could and should have explored them further (IE Dolores considering taking her relationship with Zoey to a different level).  

It’s a high concept novel, in a year full of them.  Another fault is the novel seems glossy, yet unfinished.  And at 163 pages, some may admire the gloss, but others may feel as if playtime has ended prematurely.  It’s published by Bloomsbury on 23rd May and I thank them for a preview copy.  

 I Hope This Finds You Well by Natalie Sue:  

This is a spiky, engrossing but ultimately touching read.  Jolene is a Canadian-Iranian woman working in the admin of a supermarket chain.  Her snarky habit (sending white text emails to her colleagues about the things they do that piss her off) is rumbled.  Cliff, the IT guy adjusts her computer settings so that it can be monitored… but it also means she can see everyone else emails.  Which means she is party to loneliness, marital infidelity, abusive relationships… and the forthcoming round of redundancies.  

It’s an original conceit, definitely up there with The Husbands by Holly Gramazio.  And true, there is the odd Canadian/Iranian reference that might need a google.  But it’s brave enough to be a revenge comedy in the first third, one about dysfunctional friendships in the middle eight and take a twist that is both sweet and shocking in its final third.   

If you’ve ever experienced the silent, soul sucking snark of an office, you’ll lap this up.  Don’t buy it and you’ll get a white text from me.  It’s published by Harper Collins on 23rd of May and I thank them for a preview copy.  

 Queen B by Juno Dawson:

This is an interesting sidestep to the HMRC books (which I generally devour over a couple of days).  Presumably the next (and possibly final) book in the trilogy ‘Human Rites’ is out next year.  

Anyway, I digress, this is the Tudor backdrop to HMRC, with Anne Boleyn plotting to establish a matriarchy of witches and is betrayed by a member of her own coven.  If you read the books as quickly as I do, be aware: this is less than half the size of the average book.  Plus, Dawson writes it in style of a historical novel, but a historical novel with grime, dirt, sex and magic.  

She is always in control of the broader narrative and messages explored much further in the other books.  So much so, that this could be read by someone wanting to sample the series, or maybe this hints at the apocalyptic future that began in the last book.  

It’s published by Harper Collins on 18th July and I thank them for a preview copy.  

 Clever Girl - Hannah McGregor:

Cultural studies is an interesting field.  Recently we’ve had Chris Kempshill showing us how an increasingly conflicted Star Wars Universe reflects history and politics.  Here McGregor delves into a much smaller universe (which she freely admits is one of declining quality) and how it reflects feminist and queer politics.  

And as I said, a narrow field.  But she’s got that personal touch to talk about her own life (caring for a dying mother, asexuality) but the broader themes of rampaging dinosaurs and fleeing humans.  

It’s not a long read, but the research has been done.  McGregor has spliced the DNA so you don’t have to.  It’s published by ECW Press on October 1st and I thank them for a preview copy.  

 My Favourite Mistake by Marian Keyes:

It was my wife who introduced me to Marian Keyes.  Not literally, but that would be nice.  She is a better novelist than anyone gives her credit for.  I mean, she is already a worldwide success.  But when Grown Ups hits Netflix with a mighty TU-DUM in 2026; some of us we can say we read it in six years ago before the world got weird.  

Like her previous novel, Again Rachel, she’s returned to The Walsh family.  Like most families, a wonderful ball of tension.  Anna pivots from a swanky job in New York and a broken relationship, to overseeing a wellness retreat in the rural Irish town of Maumtully.  Assisting her, is Joey -possibly, the great unspoken love of her life.  Can they build happiness as much as keep small town gossip at bay?

You’re in for a treat, whether you’re a newbie.  Keyes is brilliant with language, as deft as she is Rabelaisian.  So, we get a full description of what a ‘feathery stroker’ is a much as we get a new phrase, beardy glarer.  She’s also brilliant with set pieces - so here, we get a party (that almost develops into a threesome), a karaoke evening, a gallery opening and a family party. 

Above all though, there is the genuine craft of a novelist whose books are funny, warm, good natured and are given the space to breathe. She writes excellent sex scenes too!

I can’t recommend this enough.  It’s published on 11th April by Michael Joseph and I thank them for a preview copy.  #myfavouritemistake.  

Inside Out - Douglas Thompson:

In a Shakespearean sense, April Ashley played many roles. Born in pre-war Liverpool, a victim of horrendous physical abuse from her parents and sexual abuse from a family friend.  Sailor, cabaret performer, model, nightclub owner, activist and one of the first British people to undergo gender reassignment.  She took her name from her birth month and the character in Gone With The Wind.  

This is a long overdue biography (her autobiography no longer exists for legal reasons).  It’s a compelling, uplifting read.  Even in its darkest moments, especially with regard to the legal ruling that she didn’t actually exist, there is a sense of triumph and dignity.  

There’s also that granular, gossipy detail that I love in biographies.  Here we have being pursued by both Elvis and Macca; plus a one night-stand with Michael Hutchence (without actually knowing who he was, but he was ‘very nice’) and her penchant for sleeping with Welsh men; as ‘they’re very thorough’.  Plus, her small role in Profumo (a fact explored more deeply in the author’s previous book on Christine Keeler).  

The author was a friend of April and the close personal bond they had runs through this.  Yet, I would draw attention to the odd phrase that makes me wince: IE ‘gender hysteria’ ‘pronoun fascist’.  Three years after her death, her shadow grows both longer and more fabulous.  This is the flowers she never really had in her lifetime.  It’s published on 20th August by Ad Lib and I thank them for a preview copy.