I notice elements similar to those of Tolkien and Pratchett in Eddings's writing and he is as deserving of a place on any fantasy lover's bookshelf as they are. This is the first of 5 books in the first series, with another 5-book series set after, and 3 related books, so if you like to swim deep in your fantasy worlds this is one you shouldn’t miss.
Friday, October 29, 2021
The Pawn of Prophecy, by David Eddings
I notice elements similar to those of Tolkien and Pratchett in Eddings's writing and he is as deserving of a place on any fantasy lover's bookshelf as they are. This is the first of 5 books in the first series, with another 5-book series set after, and 3 related books, so if you like to swim deep in your fantasy worlds this is one you shouldn’t miss.
Thursday, October 21, 2021
I'll Give you the Sun, by Jandy Nelson
The first of our Booksellers' Favourite Books! This one is Sian's.
Jude and Noah are twins. Two of the same. Split-aparts. They're soulmates, have their own language, and share everything as one entity... except for two things:
Their art and their mother.
Teenagers are jealous creatures, always craving love, acceptance, validation, all that good stuff. So when their pillar of grace, talent, and brilliance - their mother - passes away suddenly, the twins are left at sea, trying to find their way with their clueless, bacteria-loving father.
We get to hear this story from the points of view of both twins at different times: Noah at age 14, Jude at age 16. As the book goes on, we start to piece together their story. Who told which lies, who sabotaged whom, who's falling in love and when.
And that's really what this book is. A love story. A love story between two young people and their families, their crushes, their art, and themselves. And they see the world ever so beautifully. Noah paints portraits in his mind, of moments he wants to save. Jude has inherited her Grandmother's "bible", full of doolally nonsense that she's made up, by which Jude lives her life. They seem to speak in poems, in verses, in prophecies, in lyrics, in the feeling of floating. I have never read a book that I so badly wanted to highlight, dogear, and annotate... I still haven't the nerve, but I'm tempted to buy a second copy just to alleviate the guilt of doing so!
This book makes me want to fall in love over and over again. To throw away limitations and rational thinking. To grab life by the paintbrush and just create. To write new rules, reinvent reality.
I've never wanted any characters to be real more than these two. And deep down, ever so quietly, I pretend that they are. Because for all their flaws, diabolical behaviour, and horrendous decision-making, I want to find them one day and drink up all of their light.
This is such a fun read. A reminder of why youth is fun, even with all of pain that comes along with it. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll groan, you'll grieve, you'll gasp.
- Sian
CW: bereavement, assault
Paperback, £7.99. Find this in the Young Adult Fiction section!
Friday, October 15, 2021
Our Endless Numbered Days, by Claire Fuller
Paul suggested this book to me, since I was asking after books about survivalists, and living off the land –
people gathering, foraging, hunting, and all that jazz. I find it peaceful. Grounding.
Relaxing.
Boy, did I pick
up the wrong book for that! In fairness, Paul did warn me.
Peggy’s father
is a survivalist. But he’s also a bit of a lunatic. And when the rest of
his survivalist friends go home, shaking off the curiosity to go off the grid
and become recluses deep in the woods, Peggy’s father only gets more hyped. He gets
obsessive, training Peggy in camping skills, sleeping in a tent in the garden,
eating squirrels, and never bathing; even building a bunker beneath their home
with all the resources they’d need if the apocalypse came. It drives her mother
mad, and in a fit of rage, she leaves home to tour Germany as a classical
musician.
So when her
back is turned, Peggy’s father takes her away with two packs of resources, to a
cabin deep in the woods in Europe, which he calls die Hütte. Peggy isn’t
entirely sure what is happening – only that she is tired, confused, and misses
her mother. Life in die Hütte isn’t
what her father promised it would be. It wasn’t like in the garden, when she
could go inside for a glass of water and clean pants if she wanted. They were
isolated, vulnerable, and foolish. And to make Peggy as resolute in this decision
to disappear into nature as he is, he tells her that the world outside of their
forest has disappeared in an apocalypse; her mother with it.
And so Peggy stays.
She gathers water, chops fire wood, forages for food, and yearns for meaning in
a very primitive life. She finds it in the silent piano her father builds her from
wood scraps; in the small shelter she builds herself away from the cabin. And she
finds it in a mysterious young boy who suddenly starts wondering through their
woods.
Throughout the story,
we swap between Peggy’s nine years in die hütte with her father, and forward to
the 80s after she rejoins society. It builds so much tension to see two
versions of Peggy, two versions of reality that she is torn between.
It is gripping. It is disturbing.
It is scary. It is desperate. It is a very easy read, and I could not wait ‘til
the end.
I enjoyed it even more
than I expected!
CW for readers: there
are themes of abuse and neglect in this story.
Thursday, October 7, 2021
Many Different Kinds of Love, by Michael Rosen
Subtitled ‘A Story of Life, Death and the NHS’ this opens with a section entitled ‘Feeling Unwell’ and moves rapidly through ‘Going to Hospital’ and into ‘Induced Coma’. Anyone who paid attention to the news during the spring and early summer of 2020 might be familiar with the illness and gradual recovery of the former Children’s Laureate, but this series of prose poems takes us into the mind of a man on the verge of death. With the inclusion of numerous entries from the nurses who cared for him when he was at his lowest point, and messages from his wife to his wider family, this is the story of the Covid epidemic from somebody who very nearly didn’t make it back.
This is an intensely moving read, but never mawkish or
miserable. Michael’s wry humour peeks through even the darkest moments,
sometimes when you least expect it, which is when the horror of what he want
through really hits. His amazement at the love shown to him by strangers when
he was at his weakest is humble and genuine, and he is only too aware that not
everybody on his ward made it through. Interspersed with thoughtful and
affectionate illustrations by his friend Chris Riddell, this book is about
fragility and helplessness but ultimately hope.
I probably only have the emotional energy to read one book
about Covid this year, but I’m glad it was this one.
- Paul
Hardback, £14.99 - paperback available in March 2022. Find this in the Poetry section!
Thursday, September 30, 2021
The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, by Suzanne Collins
But then there’s this one. The prequel about President Snow in his youth, and the part he played in the Capitol and the Hunger Games becoming what we know it to be when we meet Katniss. We start the story at the commencement of the tenth Hunger Games: the first time a Flickerman (Caesar's family for the layman) has hosted the extravaganza; the first time each tribute is assigned a mentor; the first time Capitol residents can bet on and sponsor the tributes. Very appealing to a die-hard fan of the series.
The basis of this story world is politics and ethics, so I think what this book really achieves is giving the reader a greater depth of understanding for how the Capitol works. How the Hunger Games play into their political and social rankings; how the ruling class justify their actions; how individual citizens of the Capitol feel and function day-to-day. As it turns out, they are no more a united front than the districts are. For me, that was the most interesting part of the story.
There are some fabulous easter eggs for fans of the franchise; some backstory for certain details mentioned in the original series, like characters, songs, and phrases. That was fun.
As for Coriolanus Snow… well, I’ll let you decide. Watching his spiral into powerful insanity and a total disregard for life is unsettling in a subtle-until-it’s-not sort of way, and kind of feels like a chokehold. I found my jaw on the floor, shaking my head at the pages multiple times. He is totally unhinged, completely charming, and weirdly convincing for a second or two. I hate him.
If you love the Hunger Games and nerd out on a rich and nuanced story world, then I highly recommend this one. But if you really can’t bare to read about a total sociopath, and aren’t particularly invested in The Hunger Games, I’d give it a miss.
Friday, September 24, 2021
Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott
For some reason I have always felt a bit intimidated by the classics. But since it was written for young girls, it's a really accessible read. It’s tender and cosy, the language is lovely, and the girls are even lovelier. I mean, I’m sure most of you have probably read this one before, but if you’ve been umm-ing and arr-ing about embarking on the classics, like I did, this is a smashing place to start.
The four sisters – Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy – are each a
precious little story in themselves. So perfectly different and alike. They
make up a pretty band of creative, loving, passionate young souls, and bring
such a fresh perspective to one another.
Even though some are more dramatic than others, there’s no one plot point in this book that stands out to me
the most. What stands out to me is how completely human the
emotionally charged and instinctive decisions the characters make; the way that
they fight adversity. And I think that’s what I needed reminding of when I
embarked on reading the classics for the first time: that no matter how
different their language, their dresses, or their hygiene, they’re just stories
about people.
And I so relate to each of them. Take Jo and her deeply
emotional responses. Or Amy’s goal to be helpful to everyone. Beth is always so
keen to see people happy. And Amy… well, I’d hate to admit to any similarities
I have with Amy!
This book was a lovely experience, and I felt giddy the
whole time I was reading it. I must say, after using audio books for my
university reading of the classics that, if you can read a physical copy, do
it! It feels extra special.
An extra note to the reader: the British and American
editions are different! The American version is Little Women and Good
Wives in one book – us Brits are stingy and only have the first part. I got
the British version, so expect a Part Two once my copy of “Good Wives” comes
in!
Friday, September 17, 2021
Klara and the Sun, by Kazuo Ishiguru
Any narrative that includes a form of artificial intelligence prompts the usual question: Could humans be replaced with AI? The question of if it is technologically possible to replace humans with AI is just the tip of a metaphorical iceberg. And we have seen this ‘tip’ explored many times in literature already. However, there is more to Klara and the Sun.
While it still hinges on the question: What makes us human? I feel this narrative takes this idea further and into the less explored questions around a connection with something greater, ideas around religion. I think Ishiguro is questioning the value and trust we put into belief systems.
The more I think about this book the more value I find in it.

