Zofia Nowak’s Book of Superior Detecting - Piotr Cieplak

A woman cleaning up ash from outside a house which is also a packet of cigarettes, with a bird on top and a shadowy figure in one of the windows. The book title is on the front, as is a quote from Helen Oyeyemi, and the author’s name is on the side.

Zofia Nowak’s Book of Superior Detecting by writer, academic and filmmaker Piotr Cieplak is a queer mystery novel set to be published by Renegade Books on the 26th June 2025.

5 Stars.

We follow Zofia Nowak, a Polish woman living in London (‘Chicken Town’) posing as a cleaner to aid in her work as a detective, and ultimately, get vengeance for her estranged son, Janek. We also follow Steve, a queer writer and university lecturer, dubbed ‘Mr. Writer' by Zofia, grieving for his late Polish partner Patryk and tentatively seeing an actor, Adam, also Polish. Steve is Zofia’s target and she soon wrangles her way into the role of his cleaner. How are Steve and Janek connected? And, for that matter, how are Adam and Zofia?

These two parallel, connected stories of Zofia and Steve feel tonally different in so many ways and yet still so similar, often in the same ways. We have the older woman investigating to figure out just what happened to her missing (presumed dead by the Polish police) son, staking out Steve and his world. And yet is that not what Adam and Steve are doing, figuring each other, and themselves, out, albeit in a romantic way?

I was drawn to this novel firstly by its really intriguing cover, and the glowing words of recommendation on it from one of my all-time favourite authors, Helen Oyeyemi, whose work I adore. And I'm glad I was, with the unlikely duo of Zofia and Steve being one of the best written I can think of, as their investigations take them from London to Warsaw and eventually Mazury.

There are some great witty and comedic moments for a story ostensibly about tragedy, such as Zofia’s cantankerous nature and disapproval of English life and ‘Dirty Bitches’ she lives with (also Polish). One great moment comes on the plane ride to Warsaw when Steve refers to himself as ‘some gay Orpheus mincing down to Hades… with Zofia as the ferrywoman.’ This is juxtaposed brilliantly (tragically) with a harrowing account of Steve's treatment by the homophobic Polish police following Patryk’s death (albeit with kind detective Roman there as well).

Zofia is so well drawn and characterised brilliantly, she is complex, funny (not always intentionally), and while I was initially unsure about the voice used for her sections, it works incredibly well, and you can tell that Cieplak knows the sound well. I'd venture he has known women like Zofia in his life, too, given her complexity and the way it is very hard to dislike her even in spite of her flaws.

Honestly, this book explores some very complex and varied themes (and all are handled well, in my opinion); persecution of LGBTQ+ people, particularly in Poland, politics, guilt, generational trauma, friendship, love, survival, motherhood, abuse, and that's barely scratching the surface. There's even the rise of the far-right, with a Farage/Netanyahu/Le Pen-like figure looming large over many elements of the story.

If you want a witty, well-crafted crime story, with queer themes, and brilliantly drawn characters, look no further than Zofia Nowak’s Book of Superior Detecting.

It Happened On The Lake - Lisa Jackson

The title and author’s name, plus a teaser tagline over the picture of a house on a lake surrounded by trees.

3.5 Stars

It Happened On The Lake by Lisa Jackson is a thriller novel set to be published on the 24th of June 2025 by Hodder and Stoughton.

It's October 1988 and Harper Prescott is returning to her grandmother's house on Lake Twilight aged 37 (the age her Gram deemed her old enough to inherit it). Alone, divorced and with her daughter at university, returning after so many years brings back memories of her time there, with Gram, her Gramps, her father, her late mother (who is implied to have had mental health issues) and tragically killed brother Evan.

One night in 1968, when she was looking after her by this time wheelchair-bound Gram, she is much more focussed on meeting up with her secret boyfriend Chase than playing Gin Rummy well past her Gram’s bedtime. When he fails to show up, disappeared without a trace and Gram dies following a faux pas Harper made, suspicions flare (including her stepmother’s).

In the present (1988), Harper rallies to the lake when she sees a boat on fire, soon realising the woman trapped is Chase's mother, Cynthia. Old wounds and suspicions open, and once again it seems everyone has something to hide and everyone wants a piece of Harper - gossip, inheritance, some things never seem to change in Almsville. Is there more to all the tragedy than meets the eye? A curse? And is Harper more involved than she appears?

If this novel is anything to go by, Jackson is brilliant at writing twisty thrillers. Every time I felt like I understood a situation or felt I knew my opinion on a character, Jackson would subvert it. Although sometimes I found some of their actions unbelievable, the characters themselves are incredibly well drawn. Nothing is cut and dry, and the characters all have so many layers and none are completely good, though a few are completely bad. But even most of the morally bad characters have redeeming qualities, usually not enough to make up for their shortcomings but there nonetheless, much like real life.

My one criticism when it comes to the characters is the lack of diversity. There is the odd character who may be a character of colour and Gram is a wheelchair user at the time of her death, but aside from this it is a very white, cis-het story, which is a shame.

I was initially daunted by the almost-600 page length of It Happened On The Lake but Jackson kept me hooked all the way, and I wouldn't say that you could criticise the length too much at all. Some books meander, but I think that almost all of this book is necessary considering the 20+ year mysterIES featured within it.

A note on the the star rating (SEMI-SPOILER WARNING):
I was originally planning to give this book 4 or even 4.5 stars, however, the Epilogue and the fact that the two romances were shoehorned in at the end meant I had to lower my score. Both had little chemistry and felt incredibly forced, if anything Harper and Levi would've made more sense as a pairing, if there really had to be one. An ending doesn't need to have romantic relationships to be happy, fulfilling or good, and this one would have been much better without them. To me, endings written so the protagonists are all cis-het and in relationships come across as unimaginative at best.

Private Lives - Emily Edwards

The author’s name and the title over an idyllic, busy-looking British town. A circle at the centre of the image is clear, but the edges are blurry, almost like the town is spinning.

Private Lives by Emily Edwards is set to be published by Bantam on the 19th June 2025.

3.5 Stars

Private Lives follows the interlinked residents of Waverly, a village in the South of England, following the arrival of a new resident, Abi, who unwittingly shakes the fragile happiness of her neighbours when she arrives with her two daughters to start her dream career at PLATE, a new restaurant.

We follow Rosie, a former architect and young mum to three children, in a sexual rut with husband Seb, the new headteacher at Waverly Secondary, as well as Seb’s lifelong best friend Eddy and his wife Anna. The close bond between the four is rocked when Seb admits to Eddy that he had an affair with Abi a few months prior. He thinks that his transgression is comparable to Eddy’s drunken one night stand on a work trip a few years prior, but when Anna finds out that he planned the tryst, all hell breaks loose. PLATE’s opening night gets derailed by the group's argument, and it is soon revealed that Abi is an ex-sex worker.

Will Abi get the fresh start she needs? Will Anna’s crusade against Seb lead to him losing his dream job? How will the boys’ friendship fare in the face of all the drama, and, for that matter, Rosie and Seb’s relationship? And will the many kids involved end up caught in the crossfire? Will Waverly ever know peace again?

This is an intriguing book, and Edwards does a good job of hooking the reader and keeping them hooked. I did find some of the character descriptions overwritten in places, such as when Seb’s mum Eva is first introduced. As well as this, the initial scenes feature a dinner party with lots of characters and it was very hard to keep track of them all, especially for an opening chapter. I would say, however, that there are some great sections of prose, such as the description of nearby village Ruston when Anna takes Eddy there around halfway through the novel, which is brilliantly drawn.

I was incredibly worried that the book would be more SWERF-y (Sex Worker-Exclusionary Radical Feminist) than it was. Yes, it makes sense that some characters would be viciously anti-sex worker, but the moral judgements and criticisms of Abi as a person filter into much of the novel, not just the sections focussing on Anna. The radio scene and the small character of Lucy were very welcome additions because of this.

Overall, a solid book with a host of complex characters (some much more likeable than others), although sometimes I think the book goes out of its way to forgive Anna when it doesn't need to. Aside from Abi’s gay Latine friend Diego, the characters aren't exactly diverse either.

No One Would Do What The Lamberts Have Done - Sophie Hannah

The title and author’s name over a courtyard of houses, possibly converted from a farm or something similar. There is a wooden gate in the foreground and the centre house has a light on in an upstairs window.

No One Would Do What The Lamberts Have Done by Sophie Hannah is set to be published by Bedford Square Publishers on the 19th June 2025.

3 Stars.

The sleepy village of Swaffham Tilney is the home to many rivalries, controversies and disputes. There's the infamous Agatha Christie Book Club incident, local entrepreneur Corinne Sullivan’s weed-covered front wall and the new timetable policy for swimming at the local Field View Health Club. But none is more prolific than the rivalry between the Lamberts and the Gaveys.

Sally Lambert is a doting wife to Mark, and mother to Ree, Toby, Champ (a Welsh Terrier) and Furbert (a late Welsh Terrier). She prides herself on ‘enjollify-ing’ the lives of those around her, especially her family, of which her current and deceased dogs are an integral part, seen as members in their own right.

When a police officer comes to the Lamberts' door, everything changes. Tess Gavey, daughter of Sally's sworn enemy ? Gavey, has been bitten, and is accusing Champ. Sally is appalled, and adamant that Champ is innocent, and that the Gavey’s are launching a campaign against her to have Champ put down. Will she be able to protect Champ, and her family? Are the Gaveys as bad as they appear?

The book also deals with a manuscript about the incident and its aftermath, written by an author whose identity is of much contention.

I was drawn to this book as two of Hannah's previous books, Haven't They Grown and her entry for the 2015 QuickReads scheme Pictures or It Didn't Happen are two of the best thriller/crime books I have read in recent years. This book doesn't quite reach the same heights as these two, especially Haven't They Grown, but is very enjoyable. I can't think of another writer who could make a dog bite into such a compelling thriller, although it soon becomes clear the dog bite (real or fake) is just the tip of the iceberg.

I say in a lot of these reviews that I have ‘devoured’ books but I really don't remember the last time I read a book as quickly as I read this one. It's definitely easy to read, and a compulsive read, especially considering I was initially quite daunted by the 400+ page count. I couldn't help but feel that the ending doesn't quite live up to the novel’s initial promise, however.

I think there is a fairly good balance in the manuscript aspects of the novel to make it difficult to know whether we should trust the Lambert family or not, let alone like them. It feels, generally, like we should due to their personalities and the fact that they want to protect their pet. It soon seems that they might not be as likable as they appear (even before the manuscript's authenticity and the identity of its author are drawn into question, especially considering how much different members love bigots like Hillsong Church and Ricky Gervais, as well as the political moments in the manuscript (courtesy of The Daily Telegraph, Corinne and Mark). These feel unnecessary in the first instance but become important in these questions of authorial identity.

A largely inventive and intriguing thriller that is incredibly enjoyable to read, if a little underwhelming in places, No One Would Do What The Lamberts Have Done doesn't always reach the heights it tries to but is worth a read nonetheless even just for trying to reach them. It's also a fun and enjoyable read.

Sunstruck - William Rayfet Hunter

A view through a villa window of a rocky island outcrop and a body of water, and there is a young man in blue shorts standing looking out.

One of the best books I have ever read, if this isn’t a modern classic in 50+ years there is something very wrong.

5 Stars

William Rayfet Hunter's Sunstruck is a debut novel set to be released on the 15th of May 2025 by Cornerstone.

SEMI-SPOILER REVIEW

Sunstruck follows a young man of Jamaican descent as he visits the rich Blake family mansion in the south of France following an invitation from best friend Lily Blake. There he meets her family; younger sibling Dot (never Dorothea), mum Annie (who just so happens to be the favourite singer of the unnamed protagonist’s possibly late mother) and Felix, Lily's brother, as handsome and charismatic as he is mysterious. It doesn't take long for the protagonist to fall hard for the magnetic Felix, and who can blame him? If I met a stunning queer James Taylor fan oozing charm and mischief I definitely would, too.

Told in two parts, Honey and Flies, the first follows the trip to the villa and is told in chapters of days. The second starts eleven months later in London and deals with the consequences of the trip, told through months instead of days.

Beautifully written and atmospheric, Sunstruck is a masterwork of not only queer fiction, but also every other canon it belongs to.

I love the flashbacks to when the protagonist was a child, there is a very childlike lilt to the prose, evoking Jacqueline Wilson’s best work of emulating a child's perspective. There are also moments that have such a visceral edge to them, so relatable that I felt them almost physically, and this is the gift of Rayfet Hunter's prose. I can only imagine how reading this book must be for queer people of colour and especially Black readers.

A lot of advice you are given as a writer is to do with how varying lengths of sentences affects pace; lots of short sentences quicken, longer ones drag things out. There is a scene just over halfway through the novel where Rayfet Hunter uses a succession of fairly long sentences to describe an incredibly traumatic event and somehow this section feels like it goes by in no time at all, and all too long. And it is so, so claustrophobic. I really can't overstate how amazing the prose in this novel is.

There are some sections in the second half of the novel that I found incredibly difficult to read, not because they weren't enjoyable, but because I felt the emotions of the scenes so viscerally. Maybe I just get too attached/involved in some of the stories I read/watch, but there aren't many writers who can affect me to the extent that William Rayfet Hunter did here. Trust me when I say you should be prepared to feel a whole gamut of emotions, sometimes in the space of one page, Rayfet Hunter is just that talented.

One of the most beautiful books I've ever read, Sunstruck is the kind of book that feels destined to sit in the annals of history as a masterpiece. I don't say this lightly, I loved it that much, and feels to me as much of a classic as the likes of Jane Eyre and Orlando. if you told me that in the next century this book reached those heights, I can't say I would be surprised.

The ending of the novel was inevitable, but I still couldn't help wishing things could turn out differently. I really cared about the characters in this story, even some of the ones who were not-so morally good. Maybe I got too invested (as anyone who knows me will tell you I do a lot - Doctor Who, Dragon Age, Warehouse 13…), but William Rayfet Hunter's writing skill definitely contributed to it.

If only summer could last forever…

Waist Deep by Linea Maja Ernst

The title and author’s name over a picture of three figures on a square structure on a beautiful lake surrounded by trees.

Waist Deep by Linea Maja Ernst is a novel set to be published by Jonathan Cape on 8th May 2025. It has been translated from Danish by Sherilyn Nicolette Hellberg.

The novel follows Sylvia, who, along with girlfriend Charlie, leaves their Copenhagen narrow boat for a holiday in a forester’s cottage in the woods at Madum Lake with her friends. There's Quince, a trans and queer Casanova; Gry, the group's mother hen, with young children Vera and Sejr in tow; Gry’s intimidating husband Adam, an important ministerial advisor; Karen, the leader, queenly and stoic; and Esben, Karen's poet fiancé and Sylvia's long-term crush.

Sylvia and Quince are two of my favourite literary characters of all time, I have to say. Sylvia is all too relatable to me as a dreamer and idealist, wishing for more and getting it thrown unceremoniously back in her face. Her feelings for Esben are all too familiar for me, too. And Quince is so unapologetically himself, even when he isn't always 100% certain of his own place, in the world, in terms of masculinity,

Very reflective and introspective, Waist Deep is almost a treatise for how we need each other, and how things like the gender binary, heteronormativity and society get in the way of this, while also advocating for self love and being true to yourself. I love how the author plays on the reader's perceptions, as well to reinforce this, plus the vivid descriptions of the beautiful landscape really adds something.

No, there isn't much action, but so much happens and I certainly felt different by the end, in quite a short time, too, as I couldn't get enough of this beautiful book.

Parallel Lines by Edward St Aubyn

The title and author’s name in black writing with lots of multicoloured lines surrounding them and connected to them.

Parallel Lines by Edward St Aubyn is set to be published by Jonathan Cape on 1st May 2025.

Parallel Lines follows Sebastian, a mental health patient under the supervision of Dr. Carr, and Olivia, a mum coping with her young son's dinosaur obsession while she makes a podcast about the different ways we could become extinct in the near future. These two seemingly unconnected figures discover that they are biological twins, having been adopted at 18 months and birth respectively. Things are made even more complicated by the fact that Dr. Carr, Martin, is Olivia's adopted father.

The novel was recommended to me because I had enjoyed Séan Hewitt's masterful Open, Heaven and I can somewhat see the reasoning behind this, even if St Aubyn’s novel never quite reaches Hewitt's lofty, poetic heights.

I have never read any of St Aubyn’s previous work, although the Patrick Melrose series is one I was tangentially aware of due to its popularity. I have to say that he writes in an odd, philosophical way here that doesn't always quite ring true for his characters and I think in this case focusing so often on such pretty prose and philosophical thoughts comes at the detriment of plot and character. It came across more like Samantha Harvey's Orbital and Separate Rooms by Pier Vittorio Tondelli in this regard than Open, Heaven, both of which disappointed me (especially in comparison to Hewitt's work).

I have to say I struggled a lot with the opening chapters of the novel, and it wasn't until around the halfway mark that St Aubyn really hits his stride. The strongest sections are those from Noah's perspective, as St Aubyn expertly captures his voice as an underestimated, intelligent child. St Aubyn writes strongly on interconnectedness and the values we place on each other, however, and I left the book in a much more positive position than I had thought I would.

Separate Rooms by Pier Vittorio Tondelli

Alt text/image description: Overlapping pink-hued images of a young, attractive man with curly dark hair on a sky blue background are bordered by yellow boxes bearing the book’s title

Separate Rooms by Pier Vittorio Tondelli is set to be published by Sceptre Books/Hodder and Stoughton on 24th April 2025. Initially published in Italy in 1989, two years before Tondelli’s death, this edition is translated from the Italian by Simon Pleasance.

Told in three movements, Separate Rooms follows Leo, an Italian writer coping with the death of his partner Thomas, a German musician. Melancholy and nostalgic, the story follows Leo's recounting of memories of his time with Thomas as he travels from place to place, trying to escape his feelings.

Although told from Leo's perspective, it quickly becomes clear that this is just as much Thomas’ story (if not moreso) as we begin to see just how important Thomas is to Leo.

As Leo recounts these memories to himself, a picture quickly builds up of the relationship between the two men, especially in the context of the time and public attitudes towards queer people. One thing that really struck me was how out of sequence and almost randomly the memories come to Leo, but this just makes it feel all the more realistic. It is at times hard to keep up with where in the story's timeline each anecdote takes place, and what is happening in the present, but Tondelli is generally very successful with this.

A lot of the language is clearly of the time it was written, and I can't imagine it being used today, however it is unclear if this is down to Tondelli or the translator’s interpretation of the Italian. This is more forgivable when it comes to Leo's attitudes towards others in the story. He is at times thoroughly unlikeable and I couldn't help but feel that Thomas deserved better, in death, as well as after and before it. In fact, the further into the story I read, the less sympathetic I felt towards Leo.

The second of the three movements, Leo's World, is the longest and, to me, the weakest. It meanders and confuses and often comes across as jarring. Despite this, the final sections before the movement's end (the sections with Leo frequenting the Blue Boy club and the old man on the plane) are some of the strongest in the entirety of the novel.

I have to say that I left this book feeling confused (not necessarily in a bad way), and I definitely get the impression that it is one I will be thinking over again and again long after I finished it.

Alt text/image description: Overlapping pink-hued images of a young, attractive man with curly dark hair on a sky blue background are bordered by yellow boxes bearing the book’s title

Open, Heaven by Seán Hewitt

Image description/alt text: The author's name and the book's title in a white font over a stylised green and yellow painting of a forest.

Open, Heaven by Seán Hewitt is set to be published on 24th April 2025 by Jonathan Cape.

The story follows James, a young gay student from the fictional village of Thornmere, outcast by his peers and laden with the expectations of his parents, a job with a milkman and his little brother's ill health. James feels like no one understands him due to his sexuality, until he meets Luke, the nephew of the local farmer and he falls hard and fast. Will Like reciprocate his feelings, or reject him for them? And is the older boy really as bad as his reputation suggests?

I devoured this beautifully written book, poetic in its descriptions and with two amazing protagonists, and really didn't want to leave the world Hewitt had created for these two young men.

Hewitt had been on my radar for a while, I've had his 2022 memoir All Down Darkness Wide on various wishlists for quite some time, and 300,000 Kisses, the anthology of ancient queer stories he wrote with Luke Edward Hall, was the gift I received in my family's 2024 Secret Santa. It was an absolute no-brainer that I would pick up this book, especially as a queer writer/poet of Irish descent myself. And, let me tell you, I was not disappointed.

Told in movements that correlate with the seasons of the year, Open, Heaven, follows James and Luke as they get to know each other better and form a special bond.

Relatable, heartbreaking but also triumphant and beautiful, Open, Heaven is a must-read for fans of queer literature, romance and also generally well-written fiction.

Image description/alt text: The author's name and the book's title in a white font over a stylised green and yellow painting of a forest.

Band On The Run - James Weems

The cover image designed by Darius Britton shows the two principal characters, Ravynn St John, with long dark hair and Benji (who has short, light brown hair), they both have piercing green eyes. The title and author’s name are in front of them.

Band On The Run by James Weems (the first in a prospective series about band Phoenix Rising) is set to be published by BooksGoSocial on the 22nd April 2025.

The story follows Ravynn St. John, lead singer of Phoenix Rising, the band that, in universe, knocked The Beatles off the top of the charts. On tour, Ravynn must deal with his own demons, his feelings for bandmate Benji, the threat of his ex, his ex's friend (a journalist given access to the band as roving correspondent for Rolling Stone Magazine) and society's stigma around queerness.

Weems creates a compelling cast of characters, from the members of the band (obviously Ravynn, Benji and Ravynn’s ‘brother from another mother' Sean are the most fleshed out but Wil, Clay and Theo also have their moments), manager Greg and his assistant Diciembre ‘DC’ Delgado, a Latina lesbian who is rarely without a cigar, and Dickie ‘Nuisance’ Newsome, the journo from Ravynn’s past back to haunt him.

Will Ravynn cope with all these pressures? Will he be able to balance the band with the relationship he clearly wants with Benji (and Sean's with Clay)? Will his lies about how things ended with Ronnie come back to haunt him, and will the Ravynn St John persona hold up if he has to face his past as Robin Smith he is so desperate to escape?

The prose is sometimes rather basic, and the dialogue and song lyrics don't always quite ring true, but Band On The Run is a fun, enjoyable read full of escapism that doesn't shy away from exploring how the era affected queer people, especially those in the public eye. I would say that the fact a book with such explicit sexual scenes has prose like it does (which would better suit a younger reader) makes me think the target reader is somewhat confused, however.

In spite of Weems’ initial disclaimer, I do feel that making Benji be so young is a mistake, I get that it adds another layer of tension, another obstacle for Ravynn to overcome, but making him even just a few months older would make things far less awkward and problematic. And reducing a raft of amazing women including Lulu, Dusty Springfield and Cilla Black to effectively backing singers is a bit much for a book about empowerment in my opinion.

A Room Above A Shop by Anthony Shapland

Alt text/Image description: the cover of the novel, a pale background with a green mountain shape rising from the bottom (containing the author's name) and a black mountain shape looming down from the top (with the title).

A Room Above A Shop is a literary fiction novel set to be published by Granta on 13th March 2025.

Anthony Shapland’s A Room Above A Shop follows two queer men, B and M, in 1980s Wales. Despite never mentioning her by name, this heartbreaking novel is backdropped by Thatcher's horrific tenure as Prime Minister (particularly the queerphobic Section 28), and deals with themes of alienation, ignorance, shame, love, expectation.

When M, an ironmonger taking on the family hardware store, hires B as a new employee and lodger, sparks fly in secret, away from bigoted residents, despite an 11-year age gap.

The novel has chapters that are more like vignettes, there's something vital and fleeting about them, with poetic descriptions almost listed like observations but still maintaining an air of beauty. The language and descriptions are so vivid and sibilant that there were times when I couldn't help but read aloud, as the words felt like they needed to be spoken, the sounds knitting together a further layer to the description. Often these remind me of some of the very visceral poetry I enjoy and have written myself in the past.

A raw look at the state of being gay in a deeply homophobic era, Shapland exemplifies how far we've come, and just how far we have to go. The deep personal shame B and M feel really resonates even with a distance of forty years.

My initial reaction on finishing A Room Above A Shop was ‘wow’, words failing, and I just know this story will stay with me for a long time.

Alt text/Image description: the cover of the novel, a pale background with a green mountain shape rising from the bottom (containing the author's name) and a black mountain shape looming down from the top (with the title).

I Hear You by Paul McVeigh

Image description/alt text: the story's cover, features a pair of legs under a tall stack of boom boxes and tape players, almost as if it is all one coherent being or the person carrying them is obscured by them.

I Hear You by Paul McVeigh is a short story collection which will be published on 3rd March 2025 by Salt Publishing.

I was drawn to this book by not only the cover, but McVeigh's other book The Good Son is one that I have been wanting to read for some time. As a queer writer of Irish descent myself, I'm always looking at the best and newest voices in the field, and McVeigh's is a name that keeps coming up, for good reason. And given Salt’s track record with writers like A.J. Ashworth (one of my favourite short story writers), I knew that the quality of writing would be only the absolute best.

Split into two sections, the collection starts with three standalone stories, followed by a set of interconnected stories collectively titled The Circus.

The stories featured in I Hear You were originally written for radio, and you can feel this from the opening of Tickles, the very first story featured. This does nothing to dampen the quality of the prose, but you can definitely see how the pieces would be enhanced by the spoken aspect.

By turns tender, raw and unflinching, I Hear You shows McVeigh as a modern great in writing the small, human moments that make up the big events that change lives. I don't remember the last time a story made me feel anything quite as viscerally as the second story, Cuckoo, a standout for me.

Maybe I'm biased, being queer myself, but another standout for me is Daddy Christmas, a poignant and all-too-relatable take on change and regret in the face of gay singledom. Even though I can't say I personally have ever wanted children, this story spoke to me (spoke for me almost) in ways I can't even begin to coherently express.

The Circus features ten short pieces focussing on different people associated with a new club in Belfast hosting a Got Talent competition, thus all the stories take the role of the central character as their title (The Glamourous Assistant - a personal favourite, The Comedian, The Judge and The Organiser, for example) and this is an approach I really enjoyed.

I could talk for hours about each story individually because they have all left some kind of mark on me that I am yet to fully be able to articulate. Each story deals with the protagonist being overshadowed and/or alienated by someone/thing close to them in some way, and McVeigh is brilliant at this, there are thirteen stories in this collection and they all explore a different form of weighty expectation brought on by existing alongside another person who is deemed ‘better’ and I have to say I am in awe of his ability to do this.

It’s safe to say that I practically devoured this book, mostly just taking breaks between stories to let the weight of them sink in.

Few writers could so expertly write endearing characters and bigoted, irredeemable ones, too. The Medium is a timely exploration of religion, celebrity, consumer culture and the internet from the perspective of someone charging people subscription fees to talk to God and get a mortgage in heaven.

A master of realistic, distinctive voices, McVeigh's I Hear You is a timely, queer collection with drag queens, musicality and pop culture references ranging from Ariana Grande to The Scarlet Pimpernel (how much camper can you get?)

Seriously, what more could you ask for?

Image description/alt text: the story's cover, features a pair of legs under a tall stack of boom boxes and tape players, almost as if it is all one coherent being or the person carrying them is obscured by them.

On Rejection

‘Don’t take it to heart, move on and find something better’

Everyone keeps telling me that rejection is ‘character building’ or ‘making space for what’s meant to be’ in life. Cynthia Erivo recently said something similar in an interview with a young girl who missed out on the role of her character’s younger self in the Wicked film adaptation. I was honestly surprised by how willingly my brain took this advice, given how hopeless I feel in the face of rejection. Was it Erivo’s natural charisma and presence? Her phrasing? The fact that she is a fellow queer person?

Rejection is something I have always struggled with, hated even. And being the fat, gay, nerdy kid at school, I was always picked last for teams in PE. You would think I wouldn’t care, given how much I hate sports, but even in that situation I became an embarrassed, ashamed wreck.

The last 18 months have been… eventful, to say the least. I got ill, dropped out of my master's, broke up with my partner, fell out with my uni “friends” (if you could call them that). And that was just the beginning. I've had and left my first paid job, chatted to multiple people thinking that we would get somewhere romantically (and been proven wrong for various reasons), been on holiday to Derbyshire, Ireland, and the Yorkshire coast (twice) and, following a break of also around 18 months, started writing again. I also started submitting work to various presses/journals/magazines once again.

And opened the rejection floodgates once again…

When you get a reply from a job you’ve applied for or a literary press/magazine you have submitted work to, you often see phrases like ‘we’re sorry but on this occasion we won’t be progressing your application further’ or ‘thank you for trusting us with your words, but we are unable to take your work’. Now, don’t get me wrong, this is much better than not getting a response at all, which is something that happens far too often when an automated response takes two minutes to write and a button press to send. However, these do sometimes come across like the popular, rich, blonde girl from a 2000s Disney Channel show (see Gigi in Wizards of Waverly Place; Lexi in A.N.T. Farm) ‘apologising’ in the loosest possible terms. ‘Sorry’ with a grimace and an internal monologue of ‘that I ever had to acknowledge your existence’ following it.

It is incredibly hard not to let these situations get you down, as we are so often told not to do. This comes under the same category as ‘have you tried not being depressed?’ and ‘cheer up, might never happen’ in the filing cabinet of things to say to people struggling with low mood (the category being ‘please shut the fuck up unless you want it to be the last thing you say to me ever’).

Cleopatra and Frankenstein

I just finished reading Coco Mellors’ Cleopatra and Frankenstein. You can see what I thought in my very quick GoodReads review. Beware spoilers ahead:

Cleopatra and Frankenstein by Coco Mellors
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

Generally, I really enjoyed this book. But wow are there some problems with it, too. It is, for the most part, an interesting exploration of relationships and how they affect other people in our lives. The book feels weirdly inconsistent, though, and I do find the sudden bait and switch at the end from 'sympathise only with Cleo' to 'sympathise with Frank, too, guys!' in the tone odd.

I also think that the graphic description of 'the incident' as it is referred to is really unnecessary and experts have long said that describing/showing these events at all let alone in such detail is ill-advised at best and dangerous at worst (see experts' reactions to Netflix's 13 Reasons Why adaptation).

My biggest issue is with Quentin, however. I really don't understand what they add outside of the 'friends are affected by relationships, too' theme. I also really feel that Mellors' handling of Quentin's gender identity is... not great. Everyone still constantly calls Quentin 'him', the way Johnny says 'he thinks he's a girl', and outside of this the most it is referred to that Quentin is questioning is with wearing 'women's clothes' and in a sex scene with Alex (a whole other can of worms). As a non-binary person this just comes across as icky at best and purposely transphobic at worst (I don't think Mellors was trying to be transphobic with the portrayal but it really doesn't come across as great).

The most interesting sections of the book (somewhat unfortunately) are the two that follow Eleanor instead of the members of Frank and Cleo's friendship circles. The change in prose style works really well (if not better than the rest of the novel), and Eleanor, Jacky and Eleanor's mum are easily the most interesting characters featured (possibly followed by Zoe). It's such a shame that there are only two sections like this, they made me really confront the issues I had with the rest of the novel.

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The Ghost Woods by C.J. Cooke

Wow. Just wow. Where to start with The Ghost Woods?

C.J. Cooke’s The Ghost Woods follows Pearl and Mabel, two seemingly different girls who fall pregnant out of wedlock and end up at Lichen Hall under the charge of the foreboding Mrs Whitlock. Six years separate their stories initially and we see how they each cope with the strange goings on in the house.

A book dealing with themes of love, motherhood, queerness, otherness and fungus, The Ghost Woods takes a stark look at how women, particularly queer women, were treated in Scotland of the 1950s and 60s.

A dark, intriguing novel, it initially took me quite a while to get into. I can't quite put my finger on what I struggled with so much, but I'm so glad I persevered. I particularly loved the other girls in the house - Morven, Rahmi and Aretta, and the girls’ relationship with them and poor Sylvan. Mabel and Morven’s tragic love story really made the book gripping as I eased myself back into it and I was so gutted when it was brought to such an abrupt end. Honestly, it was practically a lesbian polycule looking after Sylvan for the first six years of his life and I think that's beautiful.

I haven't read the previous two books Cooke wrote as part of this thematically connected trio of novels, but I definitely will be. She is a master at making you doubt the facts in front of you and while I wasn't expecting a science lesson on fungus and mycology from a gothic novel about pregnant women I'm not complaining in the slightest.