A beautifully written, compelling, highly emotive series of linked stories that follow four Chinese mothers and their daughters, focusing on the differences and similarities present in navigating life as first and second generation immigrants, identity and the various shapes of maternal love. Though there are darker elements of the Chinese-American experience that have been overlooked (a criticism that seems to have been regularly levelled at Amy Tan across her novels), it otherwise really doesn’t show its 30 years. I loved it.

Poignant, touching, intelligent, bizarre, funny, charming, more than a little bit batshit crazy. Max Porter is a poetic genius with a talent for flawlessly weaving social commentary and a compelling story, Lanny is a protagonist you will fall in love with and this is a book that perfectly captures how it felt to be young and full of imagination, how it still feels when I create own stories.

If you’re a fan of Ali Smith, if you enjoyed Lincoln in the Bardo, love the works of Helen Oyeyemi or just generally enjoy books that are a little bit off-the-wall, I suspect this will be right up your street. I blitzed it in a matter of hours which is just about the biggest recommendation I can give. A constellation of stars for Max Porter ✨ and what is sure to be one of my favourite books of the year.

Huge, huge, huge thanks to Faber for my copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Disclaimer: I’m not a big fan of celebrity memoirs and it was probably daft of me to think that I’d like this one just because I love Queer Eye. If you enjoy them, there’s a good chance you’ll love this.

Gosh, I can’t even remember the last time I wrote a review that wasn’t excitable and glowing. Before I start on the criticism, there were elements of Naturally Tan that I loved. The chapters focused on growing up as part of a South Asian family in Yorkshire were eye opening, thought provoking and heartfelt. Unfortunately, beyond that point it just lacked substance and the jumps between anecdotes and fashion advice felt clumsy and awkward, like he’d been forced to squash in some of the nuggets of wisdom he’s become famous for, regardless of whether they fit.

I have to say that I caught myself rolling my eyes considerably at parts - never wear sweatpants around your partner (get out), never do this, don’t do that. A fair bit of it was aimed specifically at women which just got my back up.

It was an easy, speedy beach read and ideal if you love a celeb memoir but otherwise I wouldn’t really recommend it. I still think Tan is wonderful and Queer Eye is fantastic... there’s just much better, funnier and more entertaining non-fiction out there.

Thanks to Netgalley and Ebury for my e-copy in exchange for an honest review!

A boy who is no longer really a boy. An old man who isn’t as sharp as he once was. A lonely rig in an endless sea of gradually failing wind turbines, towering above a sunken land.

Doggerland is character-driven perfection. It is bleak, claustrophobic, beautiful and strangely hopeful. Ben Smith paints such a stunningly vivid portrait of this very narrow setting that I could almost smell the metallic, industrial tang of the rig. My mind took me back to the tour of the USS Midway in San Diego, even down to the way I kept painfully grazing my ankles on the sharp-edged stairs. That same sense of a harsh, unfriendly but functional environment and a space designed for far more people and considerably more activity left hollow and rattling.

Doggerland is a thoughtful, speculative novel that forces you to consider your relationship with the land around you and the reality of the changes that we’re all guilty of inflicting on our planet. If you don’t enjoy character driven fiction, it probably won’t tick your boxes but I dare anyone to say that this book and its underlying message don’t pack one hell of a punch.

Huge thank you to 4th Estate Books for my copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.