‘Landlines’ – Raynor Winn

In this third book we see Moth’s condition has worsened. He struggles to prune the trees in the orchard, and feels unbalanced when walking. Having previously seen the restorative power of walking, the decision is made to undertake a walk they’ve always dreamed of.

Perhaps when you are at your low points, and feel there’s nothing to lose, you can find the inner strength to do something that might – by any stretch of the imagination – seem crazy. However, when packaged in this way the walk from Scotland to Cornwall does offer a chance to reconnect with nature, the opportunity to reassess what is important and the time to test one’s resolve in the face of some very challenging circumstances.

As someone who enjoys walking I truly admire what Raynor and Moth have done. As someone who also detests midges, sore feet and heavy rain, I read most of this book feeling I was reading about some kind of personal hell. 

Throughout the book I found myself quite taken by the obvious love of nature and the focus on how we as a race are slowly destroying the world we inhabit. The signs are there of damage to our environment, but these are signs that we are not in a position to heed while engrossed in the small stuff that occupies us so much of the time. Having walked some of the areas they cover in their route, I also found myself recollecting my own walks and how they’ve impacted me. The little connections made along the way – particularly when taking place immediately after COVID lockdown regulations were being eased – were touching, but each of these moments also highlights the shifting attitudes towards walkers/the countryside that seem to be taking place.

It left me with a definite sense of wanting to finally get round to reading The Salt Path – clearly a defining read for many, though each seems to take their own ideas from it – but I’m also wondering if buying husband a copy of this to read might be a mistake! The bug will hit him hard after reading this

‘You’re Not Supposed to Die Tonight – Kalynn Bayron

Pure pulp, and I loved it! 

If you know horror, you know the rules. For Charity, her role as the final girl in a simulation based on a well-known slasher movie has clearly defined elements. Playing her part well keeps the money rolling in, and prevents her having to spend time at home. It helps that she keeps finding ways to refine her craft to give the guests the terrifying thrill they seek.

Unfortunately, this season things don’t go quite to plan.

Charity is struggling to keep the act going as three of the staff have left without warning. There’s threats from a woman who lives in the woods and the local sheriff is unconcerned by their reports. It’s down to Charity and her friends to try to survive the night when they realise they really are playing the game.

From start to finish this was pacy, full of knowing nods to the genre and included a lot of gore. The whole story behind it was even more creepy, and I found myself surprisingly fond of Charity’s final opportunity to resolve matters.

Thanks to NetGalley for giving me the chance to read and review this before publication.

‘Thunderstone’ – Nancy Campbell

A memoir of life in lockdown, examining attitudes to health and the way we interact with the world around us.

The author’s account is based on her journals but it is, above all, a deeply personal exploration of the self and her relationship with those around her.
I was fortunate to be gifted a copy of this by the publishers in exchange for my review.

The book opens with her realisation that her relationship with her partner has drawn to a close. Unfortunately, this realisation takes place as her partner is suffering the after-effects of a stroke and as the country goes into lockdown. A deeply difficult situation to deal with at any time, and I was struck by how few people she seemed to have around her that you might, traditionally, expect to offer support.
Campbell decides to buy an old caravan off eBay and find a way to forge a new life in this remote home. She describes the process with grim humour, and there is a clear sense of her finding a new community amongst those living in their unconventional homes.

Some of the descriptions of the natural world and her observations during this time show how many of us were forced to slow down during lockdown and to reevaluate our ideas about what is important. When she is faced with her own health issues this new community of support comes into its own.

An insight into an unusual situation and there were some interesting details shared. Ultimately, I found myself wondering why we stopped so abruptly and being curious about the details that were not shared/ignored that might have offered us a fuller picture of the author and her experience.

‘The Paper Palace’ – Miranda Cowley Heller

The Paper Palace is a book I’ve heard so much about, with so many positive reviews, and though there were parts of it that I enjoyed I would be hesitant to recommend this to people.

The book opens with us learning that Elle has just had sex with her childhood friend Jonas, though their respective families are inside the holiday home they have visited every summer. We don’t know how this came about or why, and I was expecting the story to focus on trying to explain how this even came to pass. It does, but it takes a very long and winding route to take us there.

With no context to this incident it is hard to feel sympathy for the characters. If they have been such close friends for so long I spent most of the book wondering why they’d never discussed their feelings beforehand. What we come to see – eventually – is that they were dealing with a lot of other things that certainly will have impacted on their behaviour.

Elle’s family background is complicated. While I do not want to bury my head in the sand, I found the focus on child abuse that features throughout the book concerning. We see instances of abuse happening in a number of families, yet nobody seems to recognise that is happening and those perpetuating it don’t ever seem to face any consequences for their repulsive behaviour. The detached way in which some of these instances was recounted felt quite authentic, a coping mechanism, but I really struggled to read about these children developing very unhealthy coping strategies.

The split narrative did not help me to feel engaged by the story. It felt elusive, and I found it hard to warm to any of the main characters. Jonas could have spoken up earlier, as could Elle, about their feelings and it is cruel to be toying with the lives/emotions of others – even if they are unaware of it – as they try to work out what to do. The closing stages of the book were, for me, infuriating. Apparently the author said it was clear who Elle chose…perhaps this is a cue for me to reread it again because I genuinely could not fathom out what was going on.

‘Summerwater’ – Sarah Moss

Our setting is a rather dated holiday park in Scotland set on the banks of a loch. A rural retreat, and the holiday destination of choice for a number of families. Beautiful in its own way, but limited in others.

Over the course of one rain-sodden day we are introduced to a number of characters. Each gets their own vignette, and they combine to tell a story that is unremarkable in many ways. From the retired doctor and his wife who’ve been bringing their family here for years, to the younger couple staying in a family lodge as preparation for their move to one of the Scottish islands, the guests are varied. They each share a desire to reflect on their experience and consider its significance.

Moss writes evocative natural description. Some of the inner thoughts of the characters offer more than others, but each develops our understanding of their environment. While this was interesting, it was the unexpected act on which we end that I feel will split readers. There were little clues as to what might happen, but the closing scene was deliberately ambiguous and while I liked this I can see there are others who won’t.

‘Death of a Bookseller’ – Alice Slater

Brogan Roach has been a bookseller since she was sixteen. She works in Spines, a rundown store in Walthamstow. Obsessed with true crime, Roach does not make friends easily. Awkward, prone to obsessive behaviours and not keen to change she is a hard character to like.

As part of a move to try and overhaul the fortune of an ailing store, a team of booksellers are drafted in. Amongst them is Laura Bunting, professional and full of positivity. She writes poetry and seems to have everyone wrapped around her little finger. But she does not like Roach.

The rejection sends Roach into a dangerously obsessive spiral. This is made worse when Roach learns that Laura’s mother was murdered by a serial killer. Determined to get closer to Laura, Roach takes increasingly dangerous steps to try and force a friendship.

Told in alternating viewpoints we see very different perspectives on the fascination with true crime. Neither character endears themselves to us, and there were a number of moments where I wondered quite where this would end up. It didn’t take quite the dark turn I feared it might, but there’s plenty to find unsettling. I liked the setting of the bookstore and some of the discussions around reading behaviours. The ending was interesting, and it certainly offered an unusual way for each to resolve their issues.

Thanks to NetGalley for giving me opportunity to read and review this in exchange for offering my honest thoughts.

‘Thin Air’ – Michelle Paver

Grimly atmospheric, haunting and deeply unsettling.

Thin Air is told through the eyes of Stephen Pearce, the late addition to an expedition to try and be the first party to climb Kangchenjunga in 1935. Following in the ill-fated footsteps of an earlier party, we journey with the group as they travel to the foothills of the mountain and then attempt their challenge.

I’ve never been anywhere this high or remote, but Paver brings the experience to vivid life for us. She captures the beauty and menace of the mountains, showing us how easy it can be for someone to succumb to fears in the face of their own humanity.

The superstitions held by the local climbers play a large part in this book, and we are never certain whether the group are indeed haunted by something lurking in this dangerous wilderness or whether we are watching the gradual deterioration of men pushed to their physical limits. 

It’s hard not to be captivated by the exhilaration of the climb and the descriptions of the journey. Of its time, the attitudes shown by the English travellers were nothing to be proud of. The climax occurred quite unexpectedly and didn’t focus on the character I thought was most affected by the journey.

‘Rebecca’ – Daphne du Maurier

What a read!

The introduction to the edition I read offered valuable insight into the mindset of the author at the time, and this lent a different light to the novel.

The opening firmly establishes the setting of Manderley. We see it ruined and deserted, but with no idea why. I felt this made the ending more poignant as we never find out if this was Danvers’ last shot at the man she’d come to loathe or an unfortunate natural occurrence. Regardless, the descriptions of the home were beautifully atmospheric.

The story focuses on two characters who don’t particularly endear themselves to the reader. Our unnamed narrator who marries after only a few weeks of acquaintance with Max de Winter, a widower. Gauche and painfully self-doubting, our narrator seems ill-equipped to form such a bond. This exacerbates her feelings of inferiority when she returns to Manderley and is faced with the ghost of her predecessor, Rebecca.

From start to finish it was obvious that things were not well in the de Winter home. As our narrator stumbles through married life, hindered by the housekeeper of horrors, she uncovers secrets that could have awful consequences. 

Strangely, the people in this story and the damage they wreak upon each other did not have the impact I expected. None are particularly pleasant, and all bear some culpability for the situations that arise. Though I sympathised with our narrator for finding herself in this scenario, her sacrifice at the end seemed unnecessary. 

There were many similarities to Jane Eyre, high points and low, and it strikes me as strange that one book can be so revered and another – very similar – can be so easily dismissed and overlooked.

‘The House in the Cerulean Sea’ -T.J. Klune

I’ve heard so much about this book over the last few years, but never quite felt like picking it up. What a fool! There may be an element of preaching to the converted, but this was such a beautiful story about finding your place and learning to accept difference.

Linus Barker is a rather uninspiring character. He lives alone with his cat, spends his days working for the Department in Charge of Magical Youth reviewing cases and monitoring the work of orphanages under their remit, and he has started eating salads in an attempt to shift his growing spare tire. When he is called to the upper floor by Extremely Upper Management nobody knows what to expect, but it begins a new chapter in Linus’s life.

He is charged with visiting Marsyas Island and reviewing the work taking place under the tutelage of Arthur Parnassus. Linus is taken aback by his first meeting with the six dangerous children, but comes to see them as individuals with their own redeeming qualities. 

While I found myself taken in by the messages about acceptance and desperately wanting everyone to read this so they can see the dangers of prejudice, I was completely entranced by the six children – all highly entertaining – and the adults surrounding them. A love story, a reminder to be strong and fight for those who need our protection and a plea to have the courage to love those who accept you for who you are and to enjoy family where you find it.

‘Chaos Theory’ – Nic Stone

Chaos Theory is the story of two very different young people who randomly meet, and who find themselves irrevocably changed by the encounter.

Andy has a drink problem. As a top student and son of a woman running for Congress, image is everything. But what people don’t know is what is hidden behind closed doors. As the story progresses we learn about Andy and what has led him to be driving drunk and crashing into a tree.

Shelbi knows of Andy but has few friends in school and keeps herself to herself, for good reason. When she lets people close, she gets hurt.

In spite of the barriers between these two, Andy and Shelbi get to know one another. Their friendship is something of a lifeline for each of them, and it was touching to see the way they tried to control things that were hard to control.

I don’t want to say more, as learning about these two and their situations as we progress through the story was instrumental in my enjoyment of the book. There were strands of the story that felt rather limited, though I can see how they filled their purpose. The insight into what both these teens experience is important, and it certainly encourages you to consider your own stance on how we treat people who are having issues with their mental health.


Thanks to NetGalley for giving me the chance to read and review this before publication.