There are some books that entertain you while you’re reading them, but are quickly forgotten, and then there are the books that subtly move into your heart and stay there. Kin was very much the latter for me.

Kin follows Vernice and Annie, two childhood friends growing up in Louisiana whose lives gradually diverge as they navigate friendship, family, love and adulthood. It’s a novel about female friendship, kinship and the complicated ways our past shapes who we become. The novel somehow feels intimate and expansive all at once. It’s rooted in the lives of two women and yet full of questions about family, identity, love, grief, friendship and belonging that feel universal. There were moments that moved me to tears, but the thing I haven’t stopped thinking about is the way Tayari reclaims the meaning of the word kin.

Throughout the novel, she reminds us that kinship isn’t always something we’re born into, but sometimes it’s something we build. Sometimes the people who become our family are not the people who share our blood, but the people with whom we form connections that are impossible to explain.

I’ve admired Tayari’s writing ever since reading An American Marriage, and when I was invited to interview her at Hay Festival, I was unbelievably nervous. However, I knew that if I turned down the opportunity, it would be something I’d regret forever.

I’m so glad I said yes. You may hear a few nerves in my voice during the first minute of the recording, but Tayari quickly put me at ease. She was generous, kind, and endlessly interesting to speak to. I honestly wish I could go back and do it all again.

So far, I’ve only shared the recording with my mother, but she called me today to tell me how much she enjoyed it and said she immediately went out and bought Kin. She insisted that I share it with all of you, so here we are.

We talked about everything from motherhood and friendship to class, grief, and the stories we inherit from previous generations.

The conversation is about an hour long, but hopefully you can pop it on like a podcast, pour yourself a cup of tea, settle in, and enjoy the conversation.

Full audio recording of our conversation:

Thank you again to Tayari for being so wonderful, to Hay Festival for having me, and to all of you for being here.

Lots of love,

Tanya x

If you’ve been part of Chapter for a while, you’ll know that what interests me most about books isn’t just the reading itself. It’s the conversations they spark, the perspectives they open us up to, and the way literature can help us better understand both ourselves and the world around us.

Some of you may have noticed that Chapter has been partnering with English PEN over the past few months, and it felt like the right moment to properly introduce them to the community.

English PEN is one of the world’s oldest literary and human rights organisations. They champion something that feels increasingly important, the freedom to write and the freedom to read.

At a time when writers, journalists and artists around the world continue to face censorship, persecution and threats simply for expressing themselves, English PEN works to defend and support those whose voices are being silenced. They campaign for freedom of expression, advocate for writers at risk, and work to protect fundamental rights both in the UK and internationally.

But what I love most about their work is that it isn’t only about defending literature, it’s about believing in its power.

English PEN understands that stories shape how we see the world. They champion underrepresented voices, support literature in translation, and help bring a wider range of perspectives to readers. As someone who is constantly encouraging Chapter members to read beyond their usual horizons, and as a great lover of translated fiction myself, this is a part of their work that particularly resonates with me. Through grants, events, campaigns and their brilliant online magazine, they create opportunities for important stories to be shared and heard.

As Chapter has grown, I’ve found myself thinking more and more about the role literature can play in fostering empathy, curiosity and connection. Those values sit at the heart of everything we do, whether that’s reading the same book together each month, gathering for an author conversation, or sharing a reading experience with one another.

I’ll be sharing more about their work and some of the ways you can get involved if you’d like to. In the meantime, I’d encourage you to have a look at what they do. Their events, campaigns and literary initiatives are genuinely inspiring, and I think many of you will find them as interesting as I do.

If you’d like to explore their work further, you can:

• Follow English PEN on Instagram: @englishpen_

• Follow English PEN on TikTok: @englishpen_

• Sign up to their newsletter

• Attend one of their events

• Take part in their campaigns

• Read their online magazine, PEN Transmissions

• Support their work through a donation or by becoming a member

I’m delighted that Chapter is part of their wider community of readers, writers and literary advocates.

Love,

Tanya xx

It’s June, which means I’m approximately two months late in writing about Chapter’s first ever Reading Room. An evening where we gathered actors to read excerpts from their favourite books to an audience of the Chapter community.

I have a good excuse for it taking me this long to write about it though. I was in the first trimester (I am pregnant, incase you missed the announcement on my Instagram!) and the post I’d imagined writing the following week sat patiently in my drafts while I struggled through a very busy work period, whilst simultaneously trying to grow a human.

But perhaps the delay has been useful. It’s given me time to think about what the evening actually meant, beyond the immediate relief that people turned up and seemed to enjoy themselves.

The Reading Room emerged from the desire to create a deeper relationship with literature, and I realised that, for me, it often comes from listening to text read aloud. I studied drama as a child and teenager, and have some very talented friends working as actors. Over the years I’ve dabbled in acting and spent time in rehearsal rooms and theatres listening to people bring words to life. I’ve been amazed by how transformative it can be to hear a piece of writing spoken aloud. A text you’ve read before can suddenly reveal something completely new, and language that felt familiar on the page starts to feel alive in a different way.

It’s how literature existed long before most people had books of their own. Stories were spoken, shared and performed. Reading aloud transforms literature from a private act into a communal one, reminding us that books have always been as much about connection as contemplation. And that was the spirit I wanted to capture with the Reading Room.

One of the reasons I started Chapter was because reading can often feel surprisingly solitary. We spend hours immersed in other people’s thoughts and stories, yet rarely have spaces to explore them collectively. I wanted to create opportunities for readers to encounter literature differently, and together.

I feel confident in saying that our first Reading Room was an enormous success, and I need to get planning another one! Anyone who has ever hosted anything knows that you can plan every detail and still have no control over the thing that ultimately matters most, which is how a room feels once people are inside it. That evening in The Library room at The Hart felt magical. At a moment when so much of life happens through screens, there is something quite radical about gathering together to listen.

Thankfully, we filmed the evening, because watching it back (many times!) has brought me so much joy. And hopefully can give those of you who might like to attend a future one, an idea of what it’s like.

I don’t think we’re necessarily craving bigger cultural experiences or more elaborate events. If anything, we are yearning for the opposite. So much of modern life encourages us to move quickly from one thing to the next, consuming information, opinions and stories at an extraordinary pace. I hope that Chapter events can offer an opportunity to slow down and really connect with people, and of course, literature.

Thank you to everyone who came to our first Reading Room and I hope to be announcing another one soon!

Lots of love,

Tanya x

I’m thanking my past self for having the foresight to record the conversation (with permission, of course), because although I actually had no plan of writing it up in this way, it ended up being a conversation I will remember forever, and I’m so happy I can share it with all of you.

I hope the poignancy of Siri’s words translates somewhat in written form, as I had goosebumps and teared up at times, and I’ve never had so many Chapter members message after an event saying how special and moving it was.

Siri wrote What I Loved in 2003, and she admitted she needed to reacquaint herself with the story ahead of our meeting. Yet, hearing her answers, it’s clear this story and the characters are still very much a part of her.

Told from the perspective of art historian Leo Hertzberg, What I Loved follows the lives and friendship of two couples, who are artists and academics living in New York, over the course of twenty-five years.

Warning: contains spoilers

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On grief and the impossibility of returning

Q

The relationship between Erica and Leo feels so real, especially in the aftermath of their son’s death. They remain in love, but can’t stay together. How did you arrive at that dynamic?

Siri Hustvedt

These are two people who, from my point of view, are both deeply sympathetic. But they do not survive the loss of their son.

There’s a sentence Leo writes: “What we wanted was what we couldn’t have. We wanted to be the people we were before Matthew died.”

I think that sums it up.

They also grieve differently. Leo dries up, and Erica is out of her mind in the early stages. Their modes of being are not compatible in that grief, despite their love for each other. And this is very often true, the death of a child ends marriages in one way or another.

When I wrote the book, I hadn’t yet experienced grief in the way I have now. But looking back at it, I feel that the imagined step into that kind of loss was convincing. It feels real to me now.

Q

Do you imagine they stayed close?

Siri Hustvedt

Yes, I think so. Perhaps more tenuously as time went on, but I don’t think they ever lost hold of one another.

Leo, especially, would not let Erica go entirely.

On relationships, intimacy, and the way we “mix”

Q

There’s a moment in the novel that feels both significant and strange when Leo sleeps with Lucille. It doesn’t feel driven by love or even desire in a conventional sense. What was happening there?

Siri Hustvedt

It is complicated.

Leo loves Bill. That male friendship is central to the book. But it’s not without complexity. Bill is the artist, the “real thing,” and Leo is the art historian. There’s a little envy there.

That encounter comes out of that tension. It’s not rational, but human behaviour often isn’t.

There’s also a broader theme in the book of people “mixing” into one another. Violet expresses it clearly where anorexia becomes a kind of wall, something that prevents that invasion or blending with others.

And there’s a line I wrote very consciously: "Descartes was wrong. It isn't: I think, therefore I am. It's: I am because you are."

That relationality, that we are formed through others, is at the heart of the book.

On art as expression and survival

Q

The artwork in the novel feels so vivid almost like another language within the story. Where did that come from?

Siri Hustvedt

I’ve written a great deal about art, so in that sense I have a natural companionship with Leo. But the works themselves came more like dreams. I would see them in my mind, and then describe what I saw.

Bill’s paintings, especially, are a way of expressing what he cannot articulate. They’re a kind of visual dreaming, a deeper revelation of his inner life than anything he says aloud.

And for Bill, painting is essential. He says he paints to live. We know he has a schizophrenic brother, and in a way, one sibling falls off the edge and the other doesn’t. Why? We don’t know. But his creative work is what keeps him on the other side.

On psychology and the desire for explanation

Q

With a character like Mark, readers often want an explanation, a clear psychological reason for who he becomes. Is that something you were resisting?

Siri Hustvedt

There are clues in the novel with the divorce of his parents, questions of attachment. There’s a great deal of literature about how early relationships shape personality.

But there is no complete answer. And I think that reflects reality.

There are many theories including genetic predisposition, attachment disorders, diagnoses like antisocial personality disorder or malignant narcissism. But none of them fully explain a person.

So yes, there are hints, but the novel doesn’t resolve it. And perhaps that discomfort and that desire for explanation is part of the reader’s experience.

On memory, storytelling, and the instability of truth

Q

Leo is constantly revisiting the past and rearranging it. Do you think he gets closer to the truth, or further away?

Siri Hustvedt

That’s a beautiful question.

If you remember the drawer (where Leo keeps these objects, these talismans) he keeps rearranging them, creating different narratives from the same material.

For me, that was a way of getting closer to a truth. But the truth is not singular. It’s plural. We can only tell a story backward. But even then, how do we tell it? From which perspective? With which emphasis?

And we know now, even at a molecular level, that memory is unstable. Every time we recall something, it changes.

We are not cameras. Memory is not about accuracy, it’s about survival. It helps us navigate the future, avoid danger, make meaning.

So Leo’s revisions are not distortions in a simple sense. They are part of how we live with the past.

On writing, reading, and a life in books

Q

Were there particular writers or works you felt in conversation with while writing this novel?

Siri Hustvedt

Influence is a strange thing. If you’re conscious of it, it’s often not very good.

By that point in my life, I had read so widely (Jane Austen, Emily Dickinson, James Baldwin, George Eliot, Virginia Woolf) that it was all absorbed.

And that’s when influence becomes part of you. You’re not aware of it anymore, though you may still be “stealing” things without realising it.

That’s the best kind of influence, I think. It becomes integrated into how you see and write.

On why we read and why sadness isn’t the same as despair

Q

The novel is devastating in places, but never feels depressing. Why do you think that is?

Siri Hustvedt

I have to quote my daughter, who said this when she was eleven:

“Great books can be really, really sad. But they’re never depressing.”

And she’s right.

In the aesthetic frame like within a book, a painting, a piece of music, we are allowed to experience things we would never want in real life. There’s a distance, a kind of protection. You can always close the book.

But within that frame, we recognise something of ourselves. And that recognition is not depressing, it’s enlarging.

That’s where catharsis comes from. You go to a tragedy, everything is terrible, and yet you leave feeling somehow elevated.

We are experiencing more of the world, safely, than we could in our own lives.

On time, ageing, and looking back

Q

Do you think our relationship to memory changes as we get older?

Siri Hustvedt

Yes, I do.

I’m a year older than Leo now, when he was writing the book. And when I was writing the book, 70 seemed really remote, but now I find I spend a lot of time in the past. I think a lot about childhood, in a way I didn’t in midlife. I mean, I want to live. I have plans for the future, but I know that there’s a lot more behind me than ahead of me.

_____________

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An enormous thank you to Siri for being so generous and open in our conversation. I so hope lots of you will have enjoyed reading this, and having a little further insight into the brilliant story of What I Loved.

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This first quarter has been a really wonderful one for Chapter. Being here with all of you, for the books, the conversations, and everything in between, continues to be one of my favourite parts of the internet.

A few exciting Chapter updates before I get into the books I have read this year so far. We’ve finally given Chapter its own little corner on Instagram, which feels long overdue. If you’d like more regular updates, reminders about book club picks, and the occasional behind-the-scenes of what I’m reading, you can now follow along @readwithchapter. It already feels like a really lovely extension of the community we’ve built here.

I’m really excited to share that Chapter is now partnered with English PEN, something we’re incredibly proud to be part of. English PEN is a charity that supports writers around the world, promotes free expression, and helps bring international literature to new readers through translation and events. We’ll be doing various things together across the year, and I can’t wait to tell you more very soon. But for now, you can expect some exciting opportunities for you to access their events and lectures, plenty of translated fiction recommendations from me, and hopefully some author conversations and behind-the-scenes insights into the world of international writing and publishing.

We had our first in person event of the year earlier this month at The Bull & Last (one of my favourite local pubs), to discuss our February pick, Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë. It was such a special evening. Getting together with a group of you in person is always a highlight for me. We partnered with Ffern fragrances, If Only If nightwear and Vintage Books, who all spoilt everyone with gorgeous gifts. And I think I can speak for everyone there when I say we had the best evening, and could have stayed and chatted all night long!

We have some very exciting things happening in the coming months. In April, we have a truly brilliant guest joining our book club meeting, Siri Hustvedt, author of What I Loved. Having the chance to discuss the book with Siri herself feels slightly surreal, and I’m so excited for that conversation. It’s not every day that a book club gets to ask the author all the questions we are usually just mulling over together.

In May, Chapter will be heading to the Hay Festival, where I’ll be in conversation with the brilliant Tayari Jones. I’ve admired her work for such a long time, so getting to talk about books together, and to do it with some of you in the room, feels very special.

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Apologies for the long intro, lots to update you on! But, without further ado, here’s everything I read in the first quarter of 2026, in the order I read them.

Orbital by Samantha Harvey

I really wanted to love this one. A novel set aboard the International Space Station, following six astronauts as they circle the Earth over the course of a single day, I loved the idea of it. The book drifts between their observations of the planet below and their thoughts about life, family and the strange feeling of being suspended between Earth and space.

Harvey’s writing is undeniably great, there are passages describing the Earth from orbit that are genuinely so beautiful, but I struggled to truly connect with the book as a whole. The characters felt slightly out of reach for me, and because the novel spends so much time inside their interior reflections, that distance made it difficult to fully invest in their stories. It’s a quiet, contemplative book, (which typically I really enjoy), but it just didn’t land emotionally with me.

I also couldn’t help comparing it to In Ascension by Martin MacInnes, which explores similar cosmic and existential questions but, for me, did so with far greater depth and emotional pull. If I were recommending a novel that grapples with humanity’s place in the universe, that would be the one I’d urge you to read every time.

That said, it’s thoughtful, lyrical and full of wonder at the fragility of our planet. I just wish I’d felt a little more tethered to the people orbiting above it.

The House in the Cerulean Sea by T.J. Klune

This isn’t the sort of book I would normally pick up myself, but Dan gave it to me for Christmas and I’m so glad he did because I absolutely loved it. From the very first pages it completely charmed me, and I ended up enjoying every moment of it.

The story follows Linus Baker, a quiet and lonely caseworker for the Department in Charge of Magical Youth who is sent to investigate a mysterious orphanage on a remote island. The children who live there are considered highly dangerous, but what unfolds is a gentle, funny and unexpectedly moving story about belonging, kindness and what it really means to create a home.

What I loved most was how warm and hopeful the book feels. It’s whimsical and a little eccentric, and just pure joy. The characters are so full of heart, and the relationships that develop throughout the story are just wonderful to read. There were moments that made me laugh out loud and others that made me tear up, I honestly can’t recommend it enough for something a bit different and really special.

It’s also one of those books that manages to say something meaningful without feeling heavy-handed. Underneath all the humour and magic there’s a really lovely message about acceptance and empathy, and it’s delivered with such tenderness that it never feels preachy.

A joyful, comforting read that completely won me over, and made me think I need to branch out into more speculative fiction.

We Do Not Part by Han Kang

This was our January book club pick, and although I have to admit I found the last 100 pages quite challenging, I am so glad I chose it as one for us to read together.

The novel opens with an atmosphere thick with cold, silence, and unease. We follow Kyungha as she travels through a relentless snowstorm in the Korean woodlands to reach her friend Inseon’s house, determined to save her bird, which Inseon was forced to abandon after an accident. The first half of the book absolutely pulled me in. I sped through it, desperate to know what was happening, whether she would make it through the snow, and what truth lay at the centre of this journey, all while being completely absorbed in Han Kang’s writing (which is some of the most stunning I’ve ever read).

The first half felt like a dream of a book to me. There is a quiet but constant tension throughout, paired with Kang’s restrained, beautiful prose that makes even the smallest moments feel heavy with meaning. I found myself both unsettled and completely absorbed. Her descriptions of the snow, and the metaphors she builds around it, were so unique and striking. Genuinely the most interesting way I have ever heard anyone speak about snow.

Once Kyungha arrives at the house, the story shifts and becomes very surreal, which I loved to begin with. It’s filled with ghosts, and confusion (at one point Kyungha is not sure if she is alive or not). I typically love dreamlike parts in books, but then the whole rest of the story was mostly focused on Inseon’s voice and her recounting a terrible massacre that took place just before the Korean war. While I appreciated learning about it, this section lost me a little, and I didn’t feel as captured as I had in the first half. I struggled to maintain the same sense of urgency and connection, but I also wonder if this was intentional? To encourage the reader to sit with discomfort rather than momentum. I also wonder if the distance I felt with Inseon telling the story of the horrors of the massacre was representative of how historical violence is often inherited rather than lived directly.

Despite finding the final section tricky, I still look back on this book very fondly. Han Kang’s writing is not just beautiful, but clever, too. The sadness seeps in slowly, and the themes of memory, grief, and the impossibility of fully escaping the past are explored in way that feels so visceral.

I hosted an online discussion for this one, and I am so glad I had lots of you to discuss it with, as there’s so much to unpack.

While I don’t think this book will be for everyone, I think it’s a haunting, thoughtful book that will resonate deeply with the right reader, and one I’m glad I experienced. *afterthought - I wrote this review about a week after reading it, and now I am re-reading my review a couple of months later ahead of posting it. I feel the need to add that I have not stopped thinking about this book… which I think tells you it must have been pretty special.

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The Artist by Lucy Steeds

This was such an enjoyable, easy read. Set in the south of France, it has that sun-drenched atmosphere that immediately makes you want to be reading it on holiday.

The novel follows an aspiring young writer who travels to the south of France to assist a famously reclusive artist. What begins as an exciting opportunity slowly becomes more complicated as he’s drawn into the artist’s world and the relationships surrounding him. There’s a mystery running alongside the otherwise idyllic setting, which is probably what made me read it so quickly, as I needed to know what was really going on.

Nothing about the book necessarily blew me away, but I don’t always think a novel needs to be monumental or life-changing. Sometimes it’s quite nice reading something that pulls you along effortlessly, and you simply enjoy. The pacing is quick, the writing accessible, and it’s a pleasant setting to spend time in. If you’ve been reading my reviews for a while you’ll know I’m always drawn to books set in creative worlds of art, theatre, libraries and literature etc. Also, Steeds does raise some interesting ideas on the value of art, whilst also shining a light on the compromises and sacrifices that women artists have historically faced.

The Artist is an engaging, escapist read that I’d happily recommend if you’re looking for something entertaining and atmospheric, especially if you’re dreaming of the south of France.

Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi

Homegoing is such an incredible book, but definitely not a quick read despite it being only 300 pages. It traces the descendants of two half-sisters from 18th-century Ghana, one sold into slavery and the other remaining in her village, and follows their lines across generations, from the Gold Coast to the plantations of America and beyond.

Gyasi’s writing is wonderful and fully immersive. Each chapter, told from a different character’s perspective, is short, almost like a vignette, yet you learn so much about them a short space of time. Even though the story spans continents and centuries, Gyasi never loses sight of individual lives (14 in total!) and the heartbreak, resilience, and small joys that make each character unforgettable. Some chapters were very difficult to read, I would say almost unbearable, particularly the ones confronting the full horrors of slavery and systemic oppression, but it felt like a very important story to read.

Homegoing is thoughtful, devastating, and one you will really need some time to decompress after. It’s hard to believe this was Gyasi’s debut novel, and I am definitely going to be reading more of her work.

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Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë

I chose Wuthering Heights as our February Chapter pick rather reluctantly… I do try not to choose a book that is too hyped in the moment! However, lots of you requested we read it together, and I thought it would be nice for us to have an excuse to re-read it ahead of the film’s release. Anyway, thank you to those who encouraged me to choose it, because it reminded me that it really is one of my favourite books of all time.

I first read Wuthering Heights as a teenager, and every time I revisit it, I’m struck by just how wild and intense it is and how hard it is to believe this was written by a woman in 1847. People often think of it as a romance, but it’s far from that. It’s raw, dark, and quite horrible at times. It asks uncomfortable questions about obsession, pride, revenge, and whether love can survive when it turns destructive. The characters are deeply flawed. The setting is perfect… the Yorkshire moors feel completely alive, untamed, haunting, and are honestly one of my favourite parts of the story.

The novel opens with Lockwood, a tenant at Thrushcross Grange, meeting his mysterious landlord, Heathcliff, at nearby Wuthering Heights. Through Nelly Dean’s narration, we’re drawn into a story of passion, cruelty, and obsession that spans generations. Heathcliff and Catherine Earnshaw form an intense bond as children, but when she chooses social status over him, he disappears. Years later, he returns wealthy and determined to take revenge, unleashing a cycle of suffering that extends to the next generation. Brontë doesn’t shy away from the darker sides of love, class, and human desire. It’s messy, violent, and heartbreaking, yet there’s an underlying hope in the second generation, a hint that cycles of cruelty can be broken.

It’s hard to put your finger on what makes this novel endlessly compelling, and one we are all still obsessed with nearly two centuries later. If I had to try and explain my love for it in a nutshell, it would be that I adore gothic literature, I love how it balances beauty and horror. Brontë’s prose is stunning, and as someone who grew up listening to Pride and Prejudice on audiobook, I have a nostalgic love for classic writing. Heathcliff is both magnetic and terrifying, I find it impossible not to be drawn to him, even as he wreaks havoc. Catherine is untamable, fiercely alive, and tragic in equal measure. And the moors echo all the characters emotions, whilst providing a very cosy setting. Honestly, on a rainy day, there is no book in the world I’d rather cosy up with under a blanket beside a crackling fire. Every time I return to it, I fall in love with it all over again.

Wild Dark Shore by Charlotte McConaghy

Set on a remote island threatened by rising seas, Wild Dark Shore is about climate change, but also about family, grief, human survival, and connection.

The story follows a family living in increasingly dangerous and isolated conditions as they work to rescue seeds from a vault, preserving endangered species. A strange woman washes up on the shore, and her presence introduces an air of mystery that threads through the story.

I’ve always been a bit wary of twists and suspense. Often I’ve raced through books just to find out what happens, only to finish feeling hollow, like I’d read pages I didn’t care about purely for the “twist” moment. It’s not that I don’t enjoy that moment as much as the next reader, I just find a lot of books that use twists are typically not the writing style I enjoy and lack substance (I am thinking The Housemaid - sorry if you loved it!) Wild Dark Shore did not leave me feeling that way and I really enjoyed it. The suspense is woven naturally into the characters’ lives and the larger story, and it adds depth rather than driving the book.

It’s a thoughtful, tense, and emotional story, with characters wrestling with grief, responsibility, and survival in a collapsing world. I honestly wanted to just give them all a hug at many different points in the story. I’d recommend this book if you’re in a reading rut and want something full of heart that you’ll inevitably get through very quickly.

What I Loved by Siri Hustvedt

This was our March book club pick, and without a doubt one of my favourite reads of the year so far. I’m also incredibly grateful to Siri for agreeing to join our discussion next month. It feels like such a privilege to be able to hear directly from her about this story and the ideas behind it.

Told from the perspective of art historian Leo Hertzberg, What I Loved follows the lives and friendship of two couples, who are artists and academics living in New York, over the course of twenty-five years. The book is split into three parts. The first is mostly an introduction to the characters, how they meet, how their lives begin to intertwine, and really it’s a portrait of creative life in New York. The second part begins with a tragedy that completely took me by surprise and truly broke me, and then explores the impact of that loss and the aftermath on the characters and their relationships. The third part I won’t say too much about, as it would spoil things if you haven’t read it yet, but it centres around the danger of trying to save someone again and again.

Hustvedt has such a gift for psychological insight, and the novel becomes a kind of examination of each person. Leo, in particular, completely captivated me. His internal reflections felt so honest and profound and at times it felt like he was articulating thoughts I’ve only ever had privately in my own head, but never heard expressed so clearly before.

I felt so connected to everyone in this story, and they feel alive in my mind like real people, which is always the sign of a brilliant book (and one I will go on to recommend for years to come).

I absolutely loved the first two parts of the book, which allowed so much space to live alongside these characters and understand their relationships. To the point that on finishing them I felt like I had already lived multiple lifetimes. The final section becomes much more of a page-turner, and while it was certainly gripping, I didn’t enjoy it as much. Personally, I would have happily spent even more time in those earlier moments with the characters.

Hustvedt’s prose is striking and thoughtful throughout, full of clever ideas and observations about human nature. It’s a novel that looks so closely at what it means to love and be loved, and how we live with grief, loss and pain as the years pass. A beautiful, intelligent and deeply moving book about life in all its complexity.

The God of the Woods by Liz Moore

I had had this one sitting on my shelf for about a year before I finally picked it up, and now I can’t believe I waited so long. I think I was dubious due to my aforementioned allergy to twists without substance, but The God of the Woods is brilliant, and I absolutely loved it. It’s addictive in its pacing, but always feels meaningful, even though the mystery at its centre is incredibly compelling.

Set in the 1970s in the Adirondack Mountains around a summer camp and a missing child, the novel moves between timelines and perspectives, slowly revealing the history of the Van Laar family and the community around them. It’s about class, power, family, and the ways the past shapes everything that comes after.

Alice, in particular, was probably the most interesting character of the novel for me. The way the book explores a mother’s love through her felt so nuanced, and honest, and devastating. Some of the most powerful moments are when you begin to understand her decisions and the weight she has been carrying for years.

Moore handles multiple characters and timelines incredibly well, and each perspective adds something important to the story. By the end, it felt less like a mystery I wanted solved and more like a world I had been living in for a while. The atmosphere of the woods and the camp is so vivid that everything feels very real, and the characters feel fully formed and believable.

It’s a book that manages to be both gripping and thoughtful, and I think that balance is what makes it so good. A beautifully written, intelligent literary mystery, and definitely one of my favourite reads of the year so far. I think this one and Wild Dark Shore have helped me regain confidence in my ability to enjoy this genre again.

Please do let me know in the comments what you’ve been reading recently, I’d love to hear.

Lots of love,

Tanya xx

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It did make me wonder when exactly reading became something that felt measurable. Something that could be summarised and quantified at the end of the year in a neat stack or a grid or a number that sounds impressive when someone asks.

“How many books did you read this year?” has become a very normal question, and I don’t think anyone asks it with bad intentions. It’s the book version of “have you watched anything good recently?” It’s conversation. It’s community. It’s people who love the same thing finding each other, but also slightly terrifying how much achieving seems to matter so much to us nowadays. I do think that somewhere along the way, reading slipped very easily into the category of things that we track and therefore things that we can be good or bad at.

Once there is a number involved, there is always, unfortunately, a hierarchy.

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I keep seeing people reading 80 books a year, 100 books a year, 120 books a year, and I am genuinely impressed because that is objectively a lot of books and also a lot of sitting down and actually focusing on something, which is increasingly rare. But I also sometimes worry that we are slowly turning reading into something that feels like a race that no one officially signed up for but lots of people feel like they’re running anyway.

The problem with turning reading into numbers is that numbers flatten everything. A 200 page thriller you read on holiday in two days counts the same as a 600 page novel that you read over three months and think about for the next five years. A book you barely remember counts the same as a book that changed the way you see the world. Don’t get me wrong, I have been an avid user of GoodReads since 2020, (and actually feel a bit sad I didn't record the books I’d read before then), but for me it’s more for sentimental reasons. I use it almost as a diary to look back on. But then GoodReads sends me emails with unwanted stats and suggests I make goals, and I can’t help but feel pressured.

It’s very strange to me, the idea of measuring something that is almost entirely about feeling and thinking and being somewhere else for a while. I think that numbers fail to capture the depth and emotional significance of reading.

I think about this a lot now because of Chapter, and because when something you love becomes connected to your work, there is a risk that it starts to feel like something you should be doing more efficiently. Like you should always be reading the next thing, and the next thing, and the next thing. Like there is an invisible syllabus you are slightly behind on.

And I realised earlier this year that I needed to be quite careful, because reading has always been one of the most important and comforting parts of my life, and it would be very easy for it to slowly turn into something that felt like admin.

Which would be tragic, really.

So I made a rule for myself that I am not allowed to rush books just to say I’ve read them. Which sounds obvious, but I actually don’t think it is obvious anymore. I think a lot of us are half-rushing books without really meaning to, because there is always another book, and another recommendation, and another book everyone is talking about, and another book club pick, and another stack on the bedside table. There is always the sense that you should be reading more than you currently are. You don’t want to admit that it took you two months to finish something someone else read in a weekend.

But reading slowly is not a personality flaw, just as reading quickly is not a personality virtue. I want to be clear that I’m not criticising people who read a lot. Some people read over 100 books a year simply because that’s how they choose to spend their time, it’s part of their job, or it’s what feels natural to them. This is more an argument against the idea that the number itself means something about you as a reader, or a person, or how much you love books. I think the person who reads 10 books a year and thinks about them all the time and recommends them to everyone and buys copies for their friends and rereads their favourite passages and remembers where they were when they finished them probably loves reading just as much as the person who reads 100 books a year. There are just different ways and speeds of doing the same thing, which is sitting down and spending time inside someone else’s head for a while.

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I could honestly ramble on for a long time about how passionately sad I am that it’s become so popular to try and make everything we do better. Morning routines, step counts, sleep scores, water intake, screen time, workouts, productivity, habits (don’t get me started on “habit-stacking”), journaling, even hobbies. Especially hobbies, actually. Hobbies are no longer just things you do, they are things you track and improve and sometimes accidentally turn into side hustles.

Reading feels like one of the few things that should be left alone.

It is one of the only activities where the whole point is the experience of doing it. Not finishing it, not logging it, not ranking it. Just doing it.

You don’t need to have read 50 books that year for it to count as being someone who reads. You don’t need a goal or a challenge or a tracker. You can just read books and that can just be part of your life in a very normal, unmeasured way.

I think a lot of people secretly feel a bit guilty about not reading more. It’s become one of those things, like not exercising enough or not drinking enough water, where you feel like you should be doing better. But you are not a better person because you read 40 books instead of 10. You are just a person who had more time, or reads faster, or chose to spend your time differently.

Any reading at all is kind of miraculous when you think about how we spend so much of our time now, which is looking at our phones and absorbing information at a speed that would have been unimaginable 30 years ago. Sitting down and focusing on a book for an extended period of time is actually quite a strange thing to do now. It takes attention and patience and imagination and time, all of which feel increasingly rare. I think that’s made me even more protective of reading, and determined to let myself get swept up by the pressures or stats (particularly as Chapter becomes a bigger part of what I do).

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So if you read a few books a year, that’s wonderful. If you read loads of books a year, that’s also wonderful. The only sad outcome would be if you read loads of books and didn’t actually enjoy reading anymore because you were too busy trying to keep up with yourself.

I don’t want reading to become something I am trying to win.

I don’t want to finish a book and immediately think about the next one like I’m ticking something off a list. I don’t want my yearly total to dictate the pace at which I move through stories and ideas and characters. I don’t want one of the most important, comforting things in my life to become another number that I evaluate myself against in December.

I would rather read fewer books and love them more. I would rather take my time. I would rather still feel excited about starting a new book instead of slightly stressed about how long it will take me to finish it.

We don’t need to be impressive readers. We just need to be readers.

And those are very different things.

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The end of the year always makes me a bit sentimental, but this year in particular feels especially so. I’ve worked hard, (probably too hard at times), and grown a lot, but nothing has made me prouder than seeing Chapter come to life. What started as a tiny idea has become one of my favourite parts of my work. It’s a place where we gather, read, talk, and genuinely make friends. Before diving into a new year, I wanted to look back at our highlights of 2025, the moments that made our book club feel so special, and the best of the best books that I cannot stop thinking about.

I know a lot of you await the annual favourites post, so I will begin with the best books I read in 2025 (in no particular order, I love them all).

The best books I read in 2025

Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

Rebecca was Chapter’s October book club pick, and is one of my favourite classics. I’ve read it twice before, yet it still completely drew me in from the very first page. It’s an atmospheric story about love, jealousy, obsession, and the shadow of the past. The way it slowly grips you, until you’re fully swept into Manderley’s world is just incredible. It’s dark, suspenseful, and beautifully written.

The novel follows a young, unnamed woman who marries the wealthy widower Maxim de Winter and moves to his grand estate, Manderley. Almost immediately, she feels dwarfed by the memory of Rebecca, Maxim’s first wife, whose presence lingers in every corner of the house. As the new Mrs. de Winter navigates her insecurity, the rigid household staff, and Maxim’s own secrets, the story slowly unravels, revealing obsession, deception, and hidden darkness. It’s gothic, haunting, but also romantic - I just love it.

Manderley itself feels alive, and every setting reflects the emotional tension of the characters. Mrs. Danvers, the sinister housekeeper, is such a brilliant character. She’s cruel, controlling, and obsessively devoted to Rebecca’s memory. She makes the new Mrs. de Winter feel small, anxious, and constantly on trial, which adds an almost unbearable psychological intensity to the narrative.

The novel isn’t fast-paced, but that slow build works in its favour. The suspense simmers rather than explodes, making the eventual revelations feel all the more devastating. The interplay of memory, identity, and the unshakeable presence of the past gives the story a an almost hypnotic feel.

Rebecca is elegant, unsettling, and utterly engrossing. It’s a book I’d recommend to anyone who loves suspense, gothic atmosphere, and deeply drawn characters.

Audition by Katie Kitamura

When I finished Audition, I felt like I’d stepped out of a dark theatre into harsh daylight and needed a moment to adjust. It was one of those books that you are desperate to discuss with someone, but also need time to sit with your thoughts first. I simply couldn’t stop reading it, not because it’s driven by plot, but because it has this low, insistent tension, like a mystery unfolding inside someone’s mind.

The novel follows an actress preparing for a role, whose life becomes entangled with a young man named Xavier who claims she’s his mother. The story slips between versions of reality, playing with performance, memory, and the identities we construct, both onstage and off. What impressed me most was how precisely Kitamura captures the narrator’s mind. Her thoughts feel private and unfiltered, as though we’re watching her consciousness move in real time.

The first half utterly captivated me. I adore anything set in the theatre, and Kitamura portrays that world with such clarity. The writing is so introspective and beautiful that I sometimes paused just to reread a sentence.

But then the second half arrives, and everything tilts. The story becomes looser, stranger, almost dreamlike with the reality being completely different to the first half (I won’t say how it’s different, as I don’t want to spoil it for you). I kept wondering whether the unraveling was pure genius or simply a bit mad. I still haven’t decided. Part of me admired the boldness, another part felt slightly frustrated, trying to grasp onto something solid.

This book will leave you unsettled, thoughtful, and a little confuddled, but undeniably affected. Apologies if this review in itself feels confusing, I really recommend you read this one, and you’ll hopefully understand my ramblings! It’s definitely one of the most impressive books I’ve read this year.

Enter Ghost by Isabella Hammad

Enter Ghost by Isabella Hammad was Chapter’s June book club pick. I truly loved this book and I have already added it to my “favourite books of all time” list. It’s an incredible novel, and immediately captured my attention with its lyrical prose and layered storytelling.

The book follows a young woman, Sonia, navigating the complexities of identity, love, and belonging amidst the backdrop of political turmoil and personal loss. What I found truly remarkable was Hammad’s ability to weave the personal and the political so seamlessly. I also really appreciated the opportunity to learn more about the political context involving Israel and the Palestinian people, particularly the situation in the West Bank, which felt especially poignant given the ongoing conflict.

Sonia travels to Haifa to spend time with her sister, but ends up taking part in a production of Hamlet in the West Bank. I have always been particularly drawn to narratives that centre around acting or the lives of actors, it’s one of the many reasons Tom Lake by Ann Patchett is one of my all-time favourite novels. I enjoyed the sections that were written in the style of a play script - Hammad does this not only for the parts where the actors are actually performing Hamlet, but also just for some scenes of dialogue within the story - I felt it added a bit of fun and variety to the reading experience. Admittedly, this thematic focus likely contributes significantly to my love of the book.

The writing is brilliant, with a tone that is contemplative and affecting. There’s a gentle tension throughout the novel, as Sonia’s internal struggles mirror the larger conflicts surrounding her. Hammad’s nuanced exploration of displacement and the search for home resonated with me profoundly, offering insights into the fragility and resilience of human connection.

Enter Ghost encourages you to sit with its complexities and contradictions. Hammad has an amazing way of capturing the emotional intricacies of relationships, whether familial, romantic, or political. The way she wrote the dynamic between Sonia and her sister, Haneen, was so clever and real. This is a book that feels both timeless and urgently relevant, and I already want to read it again.

There Are Rivers in the Sky by Elif Shafak

I adored 10 Minutes 38 Seconds in This Strange World and The Island of Missing Trees, and with There Are Rivers in the Sky I can safely say Shafak is one of my all‑time favourite authors.

The story spans centuries and continents, connecting its characters through the elemental force of water. We begin with ancient Mesopotamia and the ruins of Nineveh, where early stories echo the Epic of Gilgamesh, and follow a single drop of water as it becomes snow on the banks of the Thames, unites a Yazidi girl at the river Tigris, and later becomes part of a hydrologist’s tears in modern London. These narratives (historical, mythic, and contemporary) are intertwined in such a clever way, all flowing toward questions of belonging, loss, memory, and the ways the past refuses to stay buried. This book is a tapestry of history, culture, myth and emotion woven with such care that it felt just wonderful to read.

I loved the characters so much and feel like they will stay with me forever. Particularly Arthur, a young boy in Victorian London who rises from poverty to become a scholar of ancient texts, he is perhaps one of my favourite characters of all time. His curiosity, intelligence, and resilience and I think the way I feel like I know him shows what I great job Shafak did. Then we have Zaleekhah, the modern hydrologist, is grappling with her own past and identity, and her story added a reflective, contemporary layer. Finally, Narin, the Yazidi girl, who brought rawness and vulnerability, her experiences both heartbreaking and unforgettable. Together, these characters illuminate human endurance and the ways personal histories are entwined with the broader aspects of culture and memory.

Shafak’s writing is always perfection to me, and there were many times I stopped to read passages aloud to my boyfriend, amazed at how beautiful they were. The emotional resonance, especially in scenes rooted in family, identity, and displacement, really affected me.

The structure, although complex and requiring attention and patience, was not difficult to follow, and once the different threads come together, the pay off is miraculous. It’s such a special and well crafted story.

There Are Rivers in the Sky is about endurance of people, of cultures, and of stories that refuse to disappear. It is fierce and reflective, philosophical and a book I’ll near forget and will recommend again and again.

Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

Little Women is one of my favourite stories of all time. I’ve returned to it multiple times over the years, and it never loses its charm and warmth, with every reading offering something new to discover about the March sisters.

Set during the American Civil War, the novel follows Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy March as they grow up in Concord, Massachusetts, navigating family life, social expectations, and the challenges of adolescence. The story captures their dreams, rivalries, love, disappointments, and the small everyday moments that shape them into the women they become. What I love most is how beautifully Alcott blends humour, heartbreak, and hope in a way that is brimming with genuine warmth and insight.

The characters are unforgettable. Jo, with her fiery independence and literary ambition, remains one of my all-time favourite heroines. Beth’s kindness, Meg’s practicality, and Amy’s artistic ambition all feel incredibly vivid and real, each sister distinct yet connected in ways that feel utterly true to life. The family’s bond is the heart of the book with their messiness, love, complications all at once.

Alcott’s writing is deceptively simple, yet special. She observes the world with empathy and wit, making ordinary moments sparkle with meaning. Whether it’s the sisters laughing by the fire, struggling with loss, or chasing their dreams, the novel invites you into their world completely.

Little Women is a coming of age story. It’s about love, resilience, ambition, and the enduring power of family. Reading it feels like coming home, one of my forever comfort reads, and I can’t recommend it highly enough. I’ve never read a book that captures sisterhood so perfectly, and it’s a book I’ll always cherish.

Clytemnestra by Costanza Casati

From the first page, I was completely swept up in the fierce, propulsive energy of Casati’s storytelling. It pulses with rage, power, and heartbreak, and I have been passionately recommending it to everyone I know.

Casati reimagines the life of Clytemnestra, a queen of Greek myth, and gives her a voice that is complex, defiant, and compelling. We follow her from girlhood in Sparta through political marriage, personal loss, betrayal, and vengeance. It’s an epic story, spanning decades, (which as I mentioned previously, I love), and throughout I felt so connected to Clytemnestra and her story. This is a perfect example of a generational novel done exceptionally well.

I was overwhelmed by how viscerally I felt Clytemnestra’s rage. It’s raw, and coursed through the novel and through me too. Casati doesn’t flinch from showing the brutality of her world, the limitations placed on her as a woman, and the relentless erosion of her hope. And yet, alongside the fury, there is Clytemnestra’s unwavering strength. I found her really inspiring.

The violence of the ancient world is stark and shocking, but it never feels gratuitous, as it serves the emotional truth of the story. The relationships, especially between Clytemnestra and her sisters, and later with her children, are drawn with nuance and care, which made me care deeply for all of them.

This book made me feel everything from anger, to sorrow, to admiration, and, surprisingly, hope. I think because despite it being devastatingly sad, it depicts the power and importance of voice, memory, and storytelling itself, it’s an empowering read. I already want to experience it again.

Lanny by Max Porter

Lanny was Chapter’s August book club pick, and we were incredibly lucky to have the author, Max Porter, join us for our discussion. It’s such a strange and beautiful book. I found it utterly enchanting and completely unlike anything I’ve read before. It’s an innovative, poetic, and emotionally resonant story that defies easy categorisation. From the very first page, I was drawn in by Porter’s experimental structure and the haunting, fragmented prose.

The novel centres on a young boy named Lanny, a curious child living in a small English village. We experience the perspectives of those around him - his mother, father, a local artist named Pete, and the mythical figure of Dead Papa Toothwort, a kind of folkloric spirit who listens to the village’s thoughts as they drift through the air. When Lanny goes missing, the story takes on a new urgency, becoming both a mystery and a meditation on grief, blame, and the human instinct to search for meaning.

Porter plays with typography, voice, and narrative style in ways that feel fluid and theatrical. There are sections where multiple voices overlap on the page, and others that feel like stream-of-consciousness poems. I personally really enjoy an interesting and unique form or structure in a novel, something about this one felt magical to me.

I loved the way Lanny explored the magic and menace of childhood, and the relationship between Lanny and Pete, and the quiet unraveling of the family’s dynamics, felt incredibly tender and raw. Porter explores themes like environmental degradation, masculinity, and the collective unconscious with remarkable subtlety. There’s just so much to love and praise this book for.

Lanny demands you surrender to its rhythm, and it’s not always linear or easy, but it’s truly moving, and worth sticking with it. It’s about the strangeness of being alive, of loving people you can’t fully understand, and of the stories we tell to make sense of chaos. A challenging, beautiful, and very original novel - I can’t wait to read more of Max’s work.

The Safekeep by Yale van Der Wouden

Twenty pages in, I already new I was going to love this book. I am still finding it difficult to put my finger on what exactly makes me consider a book perfect for me, but I think it’s when it’s quietly powerful, introspective, and beautifully written. The poetic, meditative prose invites you to slow down and feel the weight of every thought and memory.

Set in the Netherlands in the 60s, the story follows Isabel, a reclusive woman living alone in the family home. She spends her days tending to the house, wrapped in the silence of routine and memory. That stillness is disrupted when her brother’s new girlfriend comes to stay, and her presence unsettles the careful order Isabel has built. What begins as a simple visit soon stirs up buried tensions and long-suppressed emotions, forcing Isabel to confront her past.

What surprised me most were the two unexpected plot shifts that unfold so naturally, adding layers of complexity and depth without ever feeling forced. They kept me hooked, eager to see how the story would evolve, although I would have happily kept turning the pages even if it was purely character driven with little happening.

Van der Wouden has a remarkable ability to explore themes of memory, loss, and the passage of time with incredible sensitivity, while asking you to reflect on what it means to hold onto the past while trying to move forward.

I adored how thoughtful this novel feels, it’s the kind of story that stays with you in the quiet moments afterward.

The Berry Pickers by Amanda Peters

The Berry Pickers is one of those novels that gently pulls you in and holds you there. Set between Maine and Nova Scotia, it tells the story of a Mi’kmaq girl who goes missing while her family is working as seasonal berry pickers, and the ripple effects her disappearance has on everyone involved. The novel shifts between the perspectives of Joe, her brother who never stops searching for her, and Norma, a girl growing up in a very different world but with a lingering sense that something about her past doesn’t quite add up.

Peters writes with tenderness and care, never sensationalising the pain at the heart of the story. It’s about family, belonging, memory, and the ache of not knowing where (or to whom) you really belong. The contrast between the two narratives works beautifully, and I found myself utterly invested in both characters.

The writing is superb, and the story itself is compelling, moving and rich with meaning. It’s a really special one, and I am so glad I picked it up.

Sing, Unburied, Sing by Jesmyn Ward

This was Chapter’s July pick. The story gripped me from the first page and left me emotionally spent, as I know it did lots of you. It’s a haunting, richly layered exploration of grief, addiction, racism, history, and the unshakable ties of family. I had high expectations going in, having heard so much about Ward’s writing, but nothing quite prepared me for the emotional intensity or power of this book. It manages to be both devastating and tender, brutal and beautiful.

Set in rural Mississippi, Sing, Unburied, Sing follows thirteen-year-old Jojo as he tries to hold his fractured family together. His mother, Leonie, is a deeply flawed and often absent presence, and his father is about to be released from prison. The novel begins as a road trip to pick him up but quickly expands into something much more. I’d say it’s part Southern gothic, part ghost story, part social critique. Through alternating points of view (Jojo, Leonie, and a ghost named Richie), Ward crafts a deeply empathetic portrait of a family struggling beneath the weight of generational trauma.

I know some people didn’t enjoy the presence of ghosts, but I thought they were important and offered a way to express the unrest and unresolved aspect of America’s racial legacy. Richie, one of the ghosts, is a really unforgettable character. He’s a boy who died too young, too violently, and who now hovers at the edge of Jojo’s consciousness, demanding to be heard. I thought his story added a chilling layer to the narrative, exposing the way systemic violence echoes through generations.

The tenderness between Jojo and his baby sister, Kayla, is one of the most affecting parts of the novel. His quiet acts of care, his sense of responsibility far beyond his years, are heartbreaking. In contrast, Leonie is a maddeningly complex character. She is self-destructive, unreliable, but never entirely compassionless. Her grief, guilt, and addiction form a kind of fog she can’t see through, and Ward writes her with brutal honesty.

This is not an easy book, emotionally speaking, with its themes of death, addiction, incarceration, and racial violence, but I would so recommend it. It encourages reflection, and doesn’t move quickly, but it invites you to sit with its pain, and to listen. It’s about survival, but also about memory, love, and the possibility of redemption, however fragile.

James by Percival Everett

In James, Percival Everett takes a fresh and deeply moving perspective on a classic American tale, Huckleberry Finn. The novel follows Jim, an enslaved man who is on the run to save himself and his family. Meanwhile, a young boy, Huck, has faked his own death to escape his violent father who recently returned to town. They go on a journey together along the Mississippi River, towards the elusive promise of the free states and beyond.

Oh my goodness, I just loved this book so much. Sometimes I ponder for a while over how to rate a novel on Goodreads, but this was unquestionably 5 stars. Although it’s a reimagining of Huckleberry Finn, you don’t need to have read it to enjoy this. However, I now really want to read Huckleberry Finn, as I am sure it would deepen my appreciation for James based on what I have read in other reviews from people who’ve read both. James is profound, exploring identity, race, freedom and much more. Everett’s writing is lyrical and gripping, and I loved the quiet intensity of this book, which really made me reflect on humanity. All the descriptions were so vivid, I felt as if I was watching a film whilst reading this one and just couldn’t put it down. It’s an unforgettable and necessary read, if you choose one book from this post to read, please make it this one.

All of the above I would recommend wholeheartedly, and I hope if you liked the sound of any of them, that they have made it onto your 2026 TBR list!

Now, onto the highlights of 2025 for our Chapter community…

Our 2025 book club picks

January: 1984 by George Orwell

February: Love Story by Erich Segal

March: Glorious Exploits by Ferdia Lennon

April: The Night Swimmers by Roisin Maguire

May: The Shipping News by Annie Proulx

June: Enter Ghost by Isabella Hammad

July: Sing, Unburied, Sing by Jesmyn Ward

August: Lanny by Max Porter

September: My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrante

October: Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier

November: The Land in Winter by Andrew Miller

December: Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

Chapter x Hush | January Book Club

In January we had our first ever book club meeting in-person, in collaboration with Hush, at amie wine studio in Eccleston Yards. I remember feeling so nervous, but I needn’t have been, for as soon as everyone arrived, the wine bar was buzzing with energy and passionate discussion about The Island of Missing Trees by Elif Shafak. This event will always hold a special place in my heart, as it was our first.

Chapter x Sezane | Valentine’s Special Book Club

When Sezane reached out and said they’d love to host a Chapter event at their store on Westbourne Grove in celebration of Valentine’s Day, I chose the book in seconds (actually whilst still on the call with them)! I remember reading my mother’s copy of Love Story by Erich Segal when I was a teenager. It was the most romantic story I’d ever read, and the first in my life to ever make me cry. We had such a wonderful evening discussing the book, followed by some late night shopping in Sezane.

Chapter x Estée Lauder | May Book Club

What a way to begin the Summer book clubs! Estée Lauder completely spoilt us all with drinks and dinner on a private roof terrace at Louie restaurant, whilst we discussed Night Swimmers by Roisin Maguire. This was one of our more extravagant book clubs, and it felt like a real treat (especially with the beautiful Bronze Goddess gifts everyone was given)!

Chapter August Book Club at The Red Lion & Sun

This was my first time organising an in-person book club gathering on my own, without the support of a brand. There was something so meaningful about looking around and seeing everyone settled in with a glass of wine, openly and generously discussing Sing, Unburied, Sing by Jesmyn Ward. The pub garden was such a gorgeous setting for a Summer book club, and conversations flowed easily, with everyone unpacking character motivations and sharing personal responses.

Chapter x Max Porter | September Book Club

I am beyond grateful to Max for so generously giving his time and joining our virtual book club in September to discuss Lanny. He is a truly inspiring person, and the experience has only made me more excited to welcome more authors into our meetings in 2026.

Chapter October Book Club at The Bull & Last

The Bull & Last is my favourite local pub, so it felt like the ideal setting for a Chapter gathering. I’m drawn to relaxed, familiar spaces, and hope to host many more events here next year. Thank you to Jo Malone and Freddie’s Flowers for helping to create such a beautiful table.

Chapter x The Booker Prize

Being invited to the Booker Prize ceremony felt like such an honour and a genuine celebration of everything I love about reading. The evening was a reminder of the power of fiction to shape conversations, challenge perspectives, and bring people together. Surrounded by writers, readers, and champions of literature, it was such a special evening.

Chapter x Read For Refugees in aid of UNHCR

In November, I hosted a Chapter × Read for Refugees event in support of UNHCR. As a Goodwill Ambassador for many years, it meant a great deal to me to see so many of you attend, show your support, and donate so generously. We heard powerful firsthand stories from Maya and Teem, both of who have rebuilt their lives here in the UK, and gained a deeper understanding of the realities of displacement. In partnership with Penguin Vintage, I curated a selection of titles that reflect the refugee experience, and I wholeheartedly recommend every one of them.

Chapter Christmas Party x Penguin Vintage Books

The Chapter Christmas party at The Bull & Last was a joyful, end-of-year gathering that captured the spirit of our book club perfectly. With festive drinks flowing, a quiz that brought out everyone’s secret competitive streak, and familiar faces around the tables, it felt like a celebration not just of the books we’d read, but of the community that has grown through our conversations, curiosity, and love of reading.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, to everyone who reads, shares, and supports Chapter. Your enthusiasm is what keeps this space buzzing. And meeting many of you in person this year was such a joy. Putting faces to names and feeling the warmth of this community in real life was something I’ll never forget. I’m endlessly grateful for you all.

Wishing you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Lots of love,

Tanya xx

Somehow we’ve already reached the final stretch of 2025, and I’m not entirely sure how we got here. The beginning of autumn always feels like a reset for me, (quieter days, early evenings, and a bit more room to breathe), and with that comes a welcome return to steadier reading.

However, we then come to November, which is always my busiest work month of the year, and my reading hours definitely took a hit. This past quarter ended up being a little stop-start, and if a book didn’t grab me straight away, I found it hard to fully commit, which then meant I took a while to read it.

All that being said, I did manage to read a few truly outstanding books over the past three months. I’m excited to share my reviews with you, hence why I’m posting a little early - normally I wait until the end of the month, but with the Christmas holidays coming up and plans to take some time offline, I wanted to get this up now. Anything I read over the next two weeks I’ll add to this post when I’m back online in January, although I am currently reading our December book club pick, Little Women, and want to take my time with it as it’s one of my favourites.

As always, if any of these found their way into your hands this quarter, I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.

Here’s everything I read in Q4, in the order I read them.

Audition by Katie Kitamura

When I finished Audition, I felt like I’d stepped out of a dark theatre into harsh daylight and needed a moment to adjust. It was one of those books that you are desperate to discuss with someone, but also need time to sit with your thoughts first. I simply couldn’t stop reading it, not because it’s driven by plot, but because it has this low, insistent tension, like a mystery unfolding inside someone’s mind.

The novel follows an actress preparing for a role, whose life becomes entangled with a young man named Xavier who claims she’s his mother. The story slips between versions of reality, playing with performance, memory, and the identities we construct, both onstage and off. What impressed me most was how precisely Kitamura captures the narrator’s mind. Her thoughts feel private and unfiltered, as though we’re watching her consciousness move in real time.

The first half utterly captivated me. I adore anything set in the theatre, and Kitamura portrays that world with such clarity. The writing is so introspective and beautiful that I sometimes paused just to reread a sentence.

But then the second half arrives, and everything tilts. The story becomes looser, stranger, almost dreamlike with the reality being completely different to the first half (I won’t say how it’s different, as I don’t want to spoil it for you). I kept wondering whether the unraveling was pure genius or simply a bit mad. I still haven’t decided. Part of me admired the boldness, another part felt slightly frustrated, trying to grasp onto something solid.

This book will leave you unsettled, thoughtful, and a little confuddled, but undeniably affected. Apologies if this review in itself feels confusing, I really recommend you read this one, and you’ll hopefully understand my ramblings! It’s definitely one of the most impressive books I’ve read this year.

Dream State by Eric Puchner

While I can see why it’s been talked about, I have to be honest, this book didn’t really do it for me. I found it pretty readable, and there are moments that were enjoyable, but overall it never quite pulled me in the way I hoped it would.

Dream State follows Cece, a young woman in Montana preparing to marry her fiancé Charlie. Before the wedding, Charlie sends his best friend Garrett to keep her company, and what should be a joyful lead-up instead becomes complicated as Cece and Garrett form an unexpected connection. From there, the story spans decades, following these three characters and later their children as they navigate love, loyalty, regret, and the consequences of choices made long ago.

There were parts I liked and found engaging, like the early tension between Cece and Garrett, the vivid Montana setting, and the way Puchner observes the small, telling details of people and place. I also appreciated how he traces the characters forward in time, showing how relationships shift and disappointments reshape them. I enjoy stories that span generations, so expected to enjoy this story more than I did.

Overall, the novel felt sprawling without fully landing emotionally. I often felt one step removed from the heart of the story, and although the generational shifts and environmental backdrop are interesting, they didn’t provide the connection I was hoping for. It’s readable, occasionally thoughtful, but ultimately unremarkable for me. Sometimes a book can be good without being great, and this was one of those for me.

Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

This was our October book club pick, and I’m so glad we chose it, as it’s the perfect haunting, yet cosy read for the lead up to Halloween. Rebecca is one of my favourite classics, and I’ve read it twice before, yet it still completely drew me in from the very first page. It’s an atmospheric story about love, jealousy, obsession, and the shadow of the past. The way it slowly grips you, until you’re fully swept into Manderley’s world is just incredible. It’s dark, suspenseful, and beautifully written.

The novel follows a young, unnamed woman who marries the wealthy widower Maxim de Winter and moves to his grand estate, Manderley. Almost immediately, she feels dwarfed by the memory of Rebecca, Maxim’s first wife, whose presence lingers in every corner of the house and in the minds of its inhabitants. As the new Mrs. de Winter navigates her insecurity, the rigid household staff, and Maxim’s own secrets, the story slowly unravels, revealing obsession, deception, and hidden darkness beneath the veneer of wealth and propriety. It’s part gothic suspense, part psychological drama, and part haunting love story.

Manderley itself feels alive, and every setting reflects the emotional tension of the characters. Mrs. Danvers, the sinister housekeeper, is such a brilliant character. She’s cruel, controlling, and obsessively devoted to Rebecca’s memory. She makes the new Mrs. de Winter feel small, anxious, and constantly on trial, which adds an almost unbearable psychological intensity to the narrative.

The novel isn’t fast-paced, but that slow build works in its favour. The suspense simmers rather than explodes, making the eventual revelations feel all the more devastating. The interplay of memory, identity, and the unshakeable presence of the past gives the story a an almost hypnotic feel.

Rebecca is elegant, unsettling, and utterly engrossing. It’s a book I’d recommend to anyone who loves suspense, gothic atmosphere, and deeply drawn characters.

The Land in Winter by Andrew Miller

This was our latest book club pick, and I have to admit, I found parts of The Land in Winter painfully slow at times. But now that I’ve finished it, I realise it’s a really special book that’s beautifully written, quietly powerful, and full of subtle emotional depth. It’s no surprise it was shortlisted for the Booker Prize.

Set during the famously harsh winter of 1962–63 in rural England, the novel follows two neighbouring couples as their lives unfold under relentless snow and isolation. Eric Parry, the local doctor, is struggling with the aftermath of a patient’s death and secrets from his own life, while his wife, Irene, is pregnant and navigating her own unease and desire for meaning. Next door, Rita Simmons, also expecting, forms a tentative friendship with Irene, despite coming from a very different background. As the blizzards cut them off from the wider world, tensions slowly rise, and the novel explores themes of love, duty, friendship, and longing.

Miller’s prose is exquisite. The frozen landscape is described so well that you can almost feel the cold seeping through the pages, and the characters’ inner lives are explored with incredible detail. The novel is contemplative rather than plot-driven, which might make it feel slow at times, but that same pace allows the emotional resonance to shine.

By the end, I realised how much this story had stayed with me. The Land in Winter is not a fast read, but for those who appreciate immersive, reflective fiction, it’s a truly rewarding experience.

The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy

I went into The God of Small Things as someone who really wanted to love it, and in many ways I did. The writing is astonishing, rich and lyrical, and the emotional world Roy creates is both heartbreaking and deeply vivid. That said, I’ll be honest, I found the structure incredibly hard to follow. The nonlinear timeline and kaleidoscopic jumps between moments sometimes left me feeling disoriented, and there were times I didn’t quite feel like I fully understood everything that was happening.

Set in Kerala in the late 1960s, the novel centres on fraternal twins Estha and Rahel, whose lives are shaped by a pivotal tragedy in their childhood. As the story weaves between past and present, we see their family’s history with their worn‑down house, their strained relationships, and the social strictures that bind them unfold in flashes and fragments rather than straightforward chronology. Alongside the twins are their mother Ammu, their absent‑minded Uncle Chacko, the tormenting Baby Kochamma, and the gentle Velutha, whose forbidden connection with the family brings devastating consequences. It’s a story about love and loss, about how small moments can reverberate through lives, and how class, race and politics shape people.

What really stayed with me was Roy’s voice. The prose was poetic, precise, full of sensory detail and emotion. There were passages that made me stop reading just to take in how beautifully they were put together, and I can absolutely see why this novel won the Booker Prize and remains so widely admired.

But there’s no denying the challenge of its structure. The way time loops back on itself, the frequent flashbacks, and the play with perspective can make it hard to hold onto the narrative as a whole. I found myself rereading sections simply to make sure I was tracking the shifts, and even then I wasn’t always sure I’d pieced it together correctly.

The God of Small Things is one of those books that feels both rewarding and demanding. I’m so glad I read it, and I can see why so many people loved it, but I also understand why some readers find it bewildering. I’m still thinking about the story, which, for me, is the mark of a special book, even if it wasn’t always easy to follow.

There Are Rivers in the Sky by Elif Shafak

This was one of my favourite books of 2025, it’s just brilliant. I’ve also adored 10 Minutes 38 Seconds in This Strange World and The Island of Missing Trees, and with There Are Rivers in the Sky I can safely say Shafak is one of my all‑time favourite authors.

The story spans centuries and continents, connecting its characters through the elemental force of water. We begin with ancient Mesopotamia and the ruins of Nineveh, where early stories echo the Epic of Gilgamesh, and follow a single drop of water as it becomes snow on the banks of the Thames, unites a Yazidi girl at the river Tigris, and later becomes part of a hydrologist’s tears in modern London. These narratives (historical, mythic, and contemporary) are intertwined in such a clever way, all flowing toward questions of belonging, loss, memory, and the ways the past refuses to stay buried. This book is a tapestry of history, culture, myth and emotion woven with such care that it felt just wonderful to read.

I loved the characters so much and feel like they will stay with me forever. Particularly Arthur, a young boy in Victorian London who rises from poverty to become a scholar of ancient texts, he is perhaps one of my favourite characters of all time. His curiosity, intelligence, and resilience and I think the way I feel like I know him shows what I great job Shafak did. Then we have Zaleekhah, the modern hydrologist, is grappling with her own past and identity, and her story added a reflective, contemporary layer. Finally, Narin, the Yazidi girl, who brought rawness and vulnerability, her experiences both heartbreaking and unforgettable. Together, these characters illuminate human endurance and the ways personal histories are entwined with the broader aspects of culture and memory.

Shafak’s writing is always perfection to me, and there were many times I stopped to read passages aloud to my boyfriend, amazed at how beautiful they were. The emotional resonance, especially in scenes rooted in family, identity, and displacement, really affected me.

The structure, although complex and requiring attention and patience, was not difficult to follow, and once the different threads come together, the pay off is miraculous. It’s such a special and well crafted story.

There Are Rivers in the Sky is about endurance of people, of cultures, and of stories that refuse to disappear. It is fierce and reflective, philosophical and a book I’ll near forget and will recommend again and again.

Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

This is our December book club pick, and I couldn’t be happier as Little Women is one of my favourite stories of all time. I’ve returned to it multiple times over the years, and it never loses its charm and warmth, with every reading offering something new to discover about the March sisters. I am only half-way through this time, but as I said, I wanted to post my Q4 reviews before Christmas, and as I have read this story before, I can confidently write about it.

Set during the American Civil War, the novel follows Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy March as they grow up in Concord, Massachusetts, navigating family life, social expectations, and the challenges of adolescence. The story captures their dreams, rivalries, love, disappointments, and the small everyday moments that shape them into the women they become. What I love most is how beautifully Alcott blends humour, heartbreak, and hope in a way that is brimming with genuine warmth and insight.

The characters are unforgettable. Jo, with her fiery independence and literary ambition, remains one of my all-time favourite heroines. Beth’s kindness, Meg’s practicality, and Amy’s artistic ambition all feel incredibly vivid and real, each sister distinct yet connected in ways that feel utterly true to life. The family’s bond is the heart of the book with their messiness, love, complications all at once.

Alcott’s writing is deceptively simple, yet special. She observes the world with empathy and wit, making ordinary moments sparkle with meaning. Whether it’s the sisters laughing by the fire, struggling with loss, or chasing their dreams, the novel invites you into their world completely.

Little Women is a coming of age story. It’s about love, resilience, ambition, and the enduring power of family. Reading it feels like coming home, one of my forever comfort reads, and I can’t recommend it highly enough. I’ve never read a book that captures sisterhood so perfectly, and it’s a book I’ll always cherish.

Let me know in the comments what you’ve been reading recently, I’d love to hear. Also, please do subscribe (it’s free)! I have one more post coming this year, which will be my best books of 2025, and our Chapter book club highlights of the year.

Lots of love, and Merry Christmas!

Tanya xx

It’s startling how quickly this year is unfolding, and somehow we’re already three-quarters of the way through 2025. Summer has been especially fun with lots of family time (read: busy), so my reading volume hasn’t been quite what it was earlier in the year. Still, what I have managed to read has taken me through a fascinating range of voices, styles, and emotions. All the stories offered something thought-provoking, whether it was a line, a perspective, or a feeling I kept returning to, and I’m excited to tell you guys about them. A few have quickly become ones I’ve been pressing into friends’ hands, and I hope will find themselves in yours, whilst others I’m still turning over in my mind. If you’ve read any of these, I’d love to hear what you thought.

Here’s everything I read in Q3, in the order I read them.

Sing, Unburied, Sing by Jesmyn Ward

This was our July book club pick, and it gripped me from the first page and left me emotionally spent, as I know it did lots of you. It’s a haunting, richly layered exploration of grief, addiction, racism, history, and the unshakable ties of family. I had high expectations going in, having heard so much about Ward’s writing, but nothing quite prepared me for the emotional intensity or power of this book. It manages to be both devastating and tender, brutal and beautiful.

Set in rural Mississippi, Sing, Unburied, Sing follows thirteen-year-old Jojo as he tries to hold his fractured family together. His mother, Leonie, is a deeply flawed and often absent presence, and his father is about to be released from prison. The novel begins as a road trip to pick him up but quickly expands into something much more. I’d say it’s part Southern gothic, part ghost story, part social critique. Through alternating points of view (Jojo, Leonie, and a ghost named Richie), Ward crafts a deeply empathetic portrait of a family struggling beneath the weight of generational trauma.

I know some people didn’t enjoy the presence of ghosts, but I thought they were important and offered a way to express the unrest and unresolved aspect of America’s racial legacy. Richie, one of the ghosts, is a really unforgettable character. He’s a boy who died too young, too violently, and who now hovers at the edge of Jojo’s consciousness, demanding to be heard. I thought his story added a chilling layer to the narrative, exposing the way systemic violence echoes through generations.

The tenderness between Jojo and his baby sister, Kayla, is one of the most affecting parts of the novel. His quiet acts of care, his sense of responsibility far beyond his years, are heartbreaking. In contrast, Leonie is a maddeningly complex character. She is self-destructive, unreliable, but never entirely compassionless. Her grief, guilt, and addiction form a kind of fog she can’t see through, and Ward writes her with brutal honesty.

This is not an easy book, emotionally speaking, with its themes of death, addiction, incarceration, and racial violence, but I would so recommend it. It encourages reflection, and doesn’t move quickly, but it invites you to sit with its pain, and to listen. It’s about survival, but also about memory, love, and the possibility of redemption, however fragile.

Lanny by Max Porter

Lanny was our August book club pick, and we were incredibly lucky to have the author, Max Porter, join us for our discussion. It’s such a strange and beautiful book. I found it utterly enchanting and completely unlike anything I’ve read before. It’s an innovative, poetic, and emotionally resonant story that defies easy categorisation. From the very first page, I was drawn in by Porter’s experimental structure and the haunting, fragmented prose.

The novel centres on a young boy named Lanny, a curious child living in a small English village. We experience the perspectives of those around him - his mother, father, a local artist named Pete, and the mythical figure of Dead Papa Toothwort, a kind of folkloric spirit who listens to the village’s thoughts as they drift through the air. When Lanny goes missing, the story takes on a new urgency, becoming both a mystery and a meditation on grief, blame, and the human instinct to search for meaning.

Porter plays with typography, voice, and narrative style in ways that feel fluid and theatrical. There are sections where multiple voices overlap on the page, and others that feel like stream-of-consciousness poems. I personally really enjoy an interesting and unique form or structure in a novel, something about this one felt magical to me.

I loved the way Lanny explored the magic and menace of childhood, and the relationship between Lanny and Pete, and the quiet unraveling of the family’s dynamics, felt incredibly tender and raw. Porter explores themes like environmental degradation, masculinity, and the collective unconscious with remarkable subtlety. There’s just so much to love and praise this book for.

Lanny demands you surrender to its rhythm, and it’s not always linear or easy, but it’s truly moving, and worth sticking with it. It’s about the strangeness of being alive, of loving people you can’t fully understand, and of the stories we tell to make sense of chaos. A challenging, beautiful, and very original novel - I can’t wait to read more of Max’s work.

All the Colours of the Dark by Chris Whitaker

I went in with high expectations for this book after my boyfriend recommended it, as well as a few of you at our book club meeting in August (I apologise in advance for this review if you loved it). It also has incredible reviews, however, it just wasn’t for me. It’s a big story, spanning decades and charting a lifetime of trauma, violence, love, and loyalty, and I usually love books like this (eg. Pachinko), but I didn’t feel as emotionally connected to it as I wanted to.

The novel follows Patch, a young boy, and Saint, the girl who refuses to let him go. Set in 1970s small-town America, the story moves through time and place, weaving together threads of friendship, vengeance, and survival. The scope of the novel is impressive, and there are moments of genuine tension and emotional pull, but I felt no urgency to pick it up, as you would expect to with a mystery, something about it didn’t quite land for me. While the characters are deeply wounded, their pain sometimes feels too orchestrated. It’s hard to write about how I felt about this one, but I think the most important point to make is that I just didn’t feel connected to it.

That said, there are some elements of it I really liked, for example, the bond between Patch and Saint has a strange, stubborn beauty, and the questions the book asks about love, loyalty, and the cost of survival are powerful ones.

Ultimately, it didn’t move me in the way I hoped.

Clytemnestra by Costanza Casati

This is easily one of my favourite books I’ve read this year so far. From the first page, I was completely swept up in the fierce, propulsive energy of Casati’s storytelling. It pulses with rage, power, and heartbreak, and I have been passionately recommending it to everyone I know.

Casati reimagines the life of Clytemnestra, a queen of Greek myth, and gives her a voice that is complex, defiant, and compelling. We follow her from girlhood in Sparta through political marriage, personal loss, betrayal, and vengeance. It’s an epic story, spanning decades, (which as I mentioned previously, I love), and throughout I felt so connected to Clytemnestra and her story. This is a perfect example of a generational novel done exceptionally well.

I was overwhelmed by how viscerally I felt Clytemnestra’s rage. It’s raw, and coursed through the novel and through me too. Casati doesn’t flinch from showing the brutality of her world, the limitations placed on her as a woman, and the relentless erosion of her hope. And yet, alongside the fury, there is Clytemnestra’s unwavering strength. I found her really inspiring.

The violence of the ancient world is stark and shocking, but it never feels gratuitous, as it serves the emotional truth of the story. The relationships, especially between Clytemnestra and her sisters, and later with her children, are drawn with nuance and care, which made me care deeply for all of them.

This book made me feel everything from anger, to sorrow, to admiration, and, surprisingly, hope. I think because despite it being devastatingly sad, it depicts the power and importance of voice, memory, and storytelling itself, it’s an empowering read. I already want to experience it again.

My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrante

This was our September book club pick, and I’m so glad I chose it, as it’s a really special story. I found it slightly slow to get into, but once I did, I was completely absorbed in its richly layered, and deeply intimate portrayal of girlhood and friendship. I can’t wait to hear what everyone thought at our discussion next Monday.

Ferrante’s writing is subtle, sharp, and emotionally true. Set in a poor neighbourhood in 1950s Naples, the novel follows two girls, Elena and Lila, as they grow up navigating family expectations, education, jealousy, beauty, violence, and class. It spans their childhood through adolescence, and what I loved most was how incredibly real it all felt. It’s one of the most genuine and authentic depictions of teenage experience I’ve ever read. I think that’s what I found most impressive about the writing, although I also appreciated how beautiful it was.

The friendship between Elena and Lila is so complex. It’s competitive and loving, admiring and resentful, full of intensity and contradiction, just like real relationships often are, especially between young girls trying to find their place in the world. There’s something so personal about the way Ferrante writes, it feels like reading someone’s private thoughts, as it’s unfiltered, unsentimental, and yet filled with emotion. There’s a lot of opinions online about Elena Ferrante and worth mentioning that some believe this novel to be autobiographical (since the protagonist shares the same name as the author), but also Ferrante is apparently writing behind a pseudonym and wishes to remain anonymous. Not sure if you’ll find that information relevant or not, but felt I should mention it.

The novel doesn’t just tell the story of a friendship, but also the story of a place. The politics, poverty, and generational cycles of the neighbourhood are always present, shaping who the characters can and can’t become. And yet the story never feels overly explanatory, it feels like it just is the way life is with its messiness and contradictions.

My Brilliant Friend is the first in a series of four novels, and I will definitely be reading the other three.

Let me know in the comments what you’ve been reading recently, I’d love to hear.

Lots of love,

Tanya xx

I can’t believe we are half way through 2025 already. This past quarter I’ve read some incredible books, ones that I will undoubtedly be returning to. I didn’t plan a theme, but looking back, many of these stories are about displacement, identity, and the intimacy between strangers. Some were sparse and dreamlike, others deeply emotional or darkly funny. Whether I was utterly absorbed or left slightly unsure, they all gave me something to think about, and there are definitely a couple that I have been recommending to everyone I know. If you’ve read any of the below, I’d really love to hear your thoughts (please do share in the comments). Here’s everything I read over the past three months, in the order that I read them.

Night Swimmers by Roisin Maguire ⭐️⭐️⭐️

This was our April book club pick, which we met in person to discuss and it was the most special evening! Thank you to those of you who came and for sharing such interesting thoughts and ideas.

Night Swimmers is set on the coast of Northern Ireland. The story centres on Grace, a solitary woman who spends her days swimming in the sea and quilting, but her world is disrupted when she rescues Evan, a man recently arrived from Belfast and overwhelmed by grief after the death of his baby daughter. As lockdown descends, Evan’s young son Luca joins them, and together the three begin to navigate a gentle, slow-burning connection rooted in shared loss, resilience, and the healing influence of nature.

This is a novel that feels still and simple on the surface, but beneath lies emotional depth. It explores grief, solitude, and the strange tension between disconnection and closeness that many of us experienced during the pandemic.

This is Maguire’s debut novel, and while much of the prose is quite lovely, there are moments when the writing feels slightly forced or overly deliberate, as if Maguire hasn’t quite settled into her voice. Some passages strive too hard for poignancy and some characters (Lorna, in particular), felt under developed. However, I did find it to be a meaningful and enjoyable book. I really enjoyed the message of enjoying the small things in life, the importance of community and the resilience of the human spirit.

The Berry Pickers by Amanda Peters ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Berry Pickers is one of those novels that gently pulls you in and holds you there. Set between Maine and Nova Scotia, it tells the story of a Mi’kmaq girl who goes missing while her family is working as seasonal berry pickers, and the ripple effects her disappearance has on everyone involved. The novel shifts between the perspectives of Joe, her brother who never stops searching for her, and Norma, a girl growing up in a very different world but with a lingering sense that something about her past doesn’t quite add up.

Peters writes with tenderness and care, never sensationalising the pain at the heart of the story. It’s about family, belonging, memory, and the ache of not knowing where (or to whom) you really belong. The contrast between the two narratives works beautifully, and I found myself utterly invested in both characters.

The writing is superb, and the story itself is compelling, moving and rich with meaning. It’s a really special one, and I am so glad I picked it up.

A Leopard-Skin Hat by Anne Serre ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I read A Leopard-Skin Hat by Anne Serre in just one afternoon, and despite its brevity, it made a big impact on me. Serre’s writing is marvellously strange and playful, following the story of an intense friendship between the narrator and his close childhood friend, Fanny, who suffers from profound psychological disorders.

It's a hauntingly beautiful exploration of friendship and hidden turmoil, almost surreal in a way, and with an unsettling edge, which meant I could not put it down. The writing is striking, compelling and such a unique tone. It was a surprisingly wonderful read despite its dark undercurrents.

Reading this before attending the International Booker Prize ceremony at the Tate added a special context to the experience, and I loved discussing it with the people on my table at the awards. It’s a story that explores ideas of freedom, identity, and the invisible forces that shape our lives, all told with a delicate, hypnotic touch. It’s remarkable is how much the novel accomplishes in such a short space.

It reminds us that we can never fully know even those closest to us, and invites us to reflect on the roles we play and the masks we wear, sometimes quite literally. I found this story to be very powerful.

The Shipping News by Annie Proulx ⭐️⭐️⭐️

I picked up The Shipping News by Annie Proulx because it’s a classic that so many readers have recommended, and I was curious, so chose it for our May book club pick. Set in a rugged corner of Newfoundland, the novel tells the story of Quoyle, a man trying to rebuild his life after personal tragedy. The landscape and community around him are vividly drawn, and Proulx’s writing is undeniably rich, poetic, and full of detail that brings the setting to life in a way that almost feels tactile.

What really stood out to me was the way the natural world feels like a character itself, with the sea, weather, and the landscape shaping the rhythm of the story, and reflecting Quoyle’s state of mind. Proulx has a remarkable gift for capturing both the harshness and the subtle humor of life in this remote place.

That said, I didn’t wholly love the book. Quoyle’s journey, while moving, didn’t always grip me emotionally. Still, I appreciated the novel’s meditation on loneliness, resilience, and the search for belonging, and I am glad that I read it, even if I found I wasn’t eager to pick it up every evening.

All Fours by Miranda July ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I read All Fours by Miranda July while sitting on a beach, and somehow that felt perfectly appropriate. There’s something about the book that feels a little bit like a guilty pleasure - sensual, messy, and just a touch over-the-top in the best way. The sex scenes were absolutely intense and unlike anything I’ve read before. Miranda July depicts desire and intimacy with such honesty and vividness that it’s impossible to look away. The rawness and feminism at the heart of these moments make them feel bold and groundbreaking.

The story follows a 45-year-old married woman who sets off on a solo road trip from L.A. to New York, only to stop just a few hours in and never make it any further. What begins as a temporary detour turns into a strange and intimate escape as she checks into a motel, befriends locals, and throws herself into a surreal, often erotic series of encounters. It becomes a story about identity, autonomy, aging, and the thrill of stepping outside the life you've built.

While the book has this addictive, almost electric energy, I have to admit the way the story unfolded didn’t entirely work for me. Some of the plot developments felt uneven or left me a bit unsettled, not quite as satisfying as I’d hoped. But despite that, the characters and their tangled emotions kept me hooked throughout.

What I really appreciated was how July isn’t afraid to be messy and real. There’s an edge to the novel, a kind of fierce vulnerability wrapped up in wild, complicated relationships that makes it stand out.

The Safekeep by Yale van Der Wouden ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Twenty pages in, I already new I was going to love this book. I am still finding it difficult to put my finger on what exactly makes me consider a book perfect for me, but I think it’s when it’s quietly powerful, introspective, and beautifully written. The poetic, meditative prose invites you to slow down and feel the weight of every thought and memory.

Set in the Netherlands in the 60s, the story follows Isabel, a reclusive woman living alone in the family home. She spends her days tending to the house, wrapped in the silence of routine and memory. That stillness is disrupted when her brother’s new girlfriend comes to stay, and her presence unsettles the careful order Isabel has built. What begins as a simple visit soon stirs up buried tensions and long-suppressed emotions, forcing Isabel to confront her past.

What surprised me most were the two unexpected plot shifts that unfold so naturally, adding layers of complexity and depth without ever feeling forced. They kept me hooked, eager to see how the story would evolve, although I would have happily kept turning the pages even if it was purely character driven with little happening.

Van der Wouden has a remarkable ability to explore themes of memory, loss, and the passage of time with incredible sensitivity, while asking you to reflect on what it means to hold onto the past while trying to move forward.

I adored how thoughtful this novel feels, it’s the kind of story that stays with you in the quiet moments afterward.

Enter Ghost by Isabella Hammad ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Enter Ghost by Isabella Hammad was our June book club pick. Our meeting isn’t until later this week, but there is so much to discuss, I’m really looking forward to it. I truly loved this book and I have already added it to my “favourite books of all time” list. It’s an incredible novel, and immediately captured my attention with its lyrical prose and layered storytelling. The book follows a young woman, Sonia, navigating the complexities of identity, love, and belonging amidst the backdrop of political turmoil and personal loss. What I found truly remarkable was Hammad’s ability to weave the personal and the political so seamlessly. I also really appreciated the opportunity to learn more about the political context involving Israel and the Palestinian people, particularly the situation in the West Bank, which felt especially poignant given the ongoing conflict.

Sonia travels to Haifa to spend time with her sister, but ends up taking part in a production of Hamlet in the West Bank. I have always been particularly drawn to narratives that centre around acting or the lives of actors, it’s one of the many reasons Tom Lake by Ann Patchett is one of my all-time favourite novels. I enjoyed the sections that were written in the style of a play script - Hammad does this not only for the parts where the actors are actually performing Hamlet, but also just for some scenes of dialogue within the story - I felt it added a bit of fun and variety to the reading experience. Admittedly, this thematic focus likely contributes significantly to my love of the book.

The writing is brilliant, with a tone that is contemplative and deeply affecting. There’s a gentle tension throughout the novel, as Sonia’s internal struggles mirror the larger conflicts surrounding her. Hammad’s nuanced exploration of displacement and the search for home resonated with me profoundly, offering insights into the fragility and resilience of human connection.

Enter Ghost encourages you to sit with its complexities and contradictions. Hammad has an amazing way of capturing the emotional intricacies of relationships, whether familial, romantic, or political. The way she wrote the dynamic between Sonia and her sister, Haneen, was so clever and real. This is a book that feels both timeless and urgently relevant, and I already want to read it again.

Let me know in the comments what you’ve been reading recently and don’t forget to use the ‘chat’ section of this Substack to talk all things books!

Lots of love,

Tanya xx

One of the greatest joys of reading is that it is both solitary and communal. We turn the pages alone, caught in the quiet magic of a story or the challenge of an idea or feeling the book gives us, but when we emerge, we bring those experiences to each other. This book club has become a space where the stories can transform through our conversations, perspectives, and debates, I often find myself feeling completely differently towards a book after our insightful discussions. I am endlessly grateful for this community, for the way we come together to celebrate something we all love so much - reading.

As we move through the year, I find myself reflecting on everything I’ve read so far. Some have been wonderful, others challenging, a few deeply frustrating, but each one has contributed to an ongoing dialogue, both within myself and among all of you. In this post, I’ll be sharing a review of everything I’ve read so far in 2024. I can’t wait to hear your thoughts, because, as always, the best part of reading is sharing it. Let’s jump into the reviews.

1984 by George Orwell ⭐️⭐️⭐️

We follow Winston Smith, a man living under the rule of the Party in a totalitarian future where every aspect of life is controlled and watched by Big Brother. Winston works at the Ministry of Truth, where his job is to rewrite history to fit the Party’s narrative. But as he begins to question the world around him, he becomes involved in a dangerous rebellion.

I know, I know—1984 is the original dystopian novel, the inspiration for so many books and films that came after it. And I completely see why it’s so important. The ideas Orwell explores - Big Brother, thoughtcrime, a society stripped of free will - are chillingly relevant, and I found myself highlighting so many passages. However, I just didn’t enjoy reading it. The story itself felt bleak in a way that didn’t grip me, and I struggled to connect with the characters. I appreciate its significance, but for me, it was more thought-provoking than truly engaging. This was our January book club pick and I really enjoyed our discussion (which was over Zoom), I am glad I read it, purely because it’s a classic and our meeting deepened my understanding of it.

Love Story by Erich Segal ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This classic romance follows Oliver, a wealthy Harvard student, and Jenny, an intelligent music student from a working-class background. As they navigate their coming from different worlds, their love is tested by family expectations, financial struggles, and tragic illness.

This book holds a special place in my heart, as it was one of the first "grown up" novels I encountered as a teenager, having sneakily borrowed it from my mum's bookshelf. It was also the first book to make me cry. I was so excited to revisit it with all of you, more than two decades later, for our Valentine’s special book club pick in partnership with Sezane. Love Story is simple, heartfelt, and completely devastating. It’s a book that wears its emotions on its sleeve. Oliver and Jenny’s relationship feels so effortless and real, with dialogue that’s sharp, witty, and full of warmth. I loved how it wasn’t trying to be overly complicated, it’s just a beautifully told love story that sweeps you up and breaks your heart. I devoured it in one sitting and felt very emotional by the end. A classic romance for a reason. Our in-person book club chat about this one was such a special evening, 20 of you came to the Sezane store in Notting Hill and we sat around a big table, drank wine and ate delicious canapés, I could have chatted for hours more. I always love seeing how different people connect with a book, and this discussion was proof that just two hours of conversation can completely change your perspective. Someone came in feeling a bit “meh” about it, but by the end, after hearing everyone’s thoughts and unpacking the layers, they left saying they had changed their mind and now feel a lot of love for it.

Hot Milk by Deborah Levy ⭐️⭐️⭐️

We follow Sofia, who has traveled with her mother, Rose, to a coastal town in Spain in search of a cure for Rose’s mysterious, shifting illnesses. As Sofia navigates the oppressive heat, a questionable doctor, and her mother’s suffocating presence, she finds herself drifting through a surreal and unsettling summer.

Hot Milk had some stunning, lyrical moments, but the pacing dragged for such a short book. While poignant at times, the unlikeable characters made it hard to fully enjoy, and I found myself feeling a little detached from the story. That said, Levy captures the complexities of family dynamics in such a clever, almost hypnotic way - there’s a dreamlike quality to her writing. It’s the kind of book that seeps into your thoughts long after finishing, even if it didn’t completely grip me in the moment, even writing this now, I am thinking should I have given it 4 stars?! I’m torn on how to rate it -beautiful prose, but not one I’d rush to recommend. I would however like to read more of her work.

Here One Moment by Liane Moriarty ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

While on a flight, a woman who becomes known as the Death Lady, suddenly starts walking through the plane predicting the age and cause of death for every passenger. As the story unfolds, we follow all the characters as they navigate life in the months following their death predictions.

I tend to read one of Moriarty’s books every couple of years, and they always feel like a bit of a guilty pleasure / beach read – the perfect book to get you out of a reading slump. This novel was no exception. I read it quickly, it’s a true page-turner with unexpected twists that kept me hooked until the very end. While the book deals with heavy themes of life and death, it also offers a poignant reflection on the fragile nature of existence, making you think deeply about the moments that define us. I shed a little tear at the end, which surprised me, considering I initially thought it would be a light read. I would really recommend this one if you are after a quick read!

Blue Sisters by Coco Mellors ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

In Blue Sisters by Coco Mellors, sisters Avery, Bonnie, and Lucky Blue reunite in New York City to clear out their family apartment on the first anniversary of their sister Nicky’s death. The novel explores sisterhood, grief, and addiction.

I couldn’t put this book down, I felt so engaged in the story and in the sisters lives and relationships with each other. I read Cleopatra and Frankenstein (I think last year??), which I enjoyed, but this was even better. The sisters’ shared history has its troubles with love, resentment, and unresolved trauma, making their reunion both problematic and emotional. The writing is sharp and immersive, capturing the complexities of sibling relationships - the way they wound, heal, and ultimately hold each other up. Despite its heavy themes, I found this book to be warm, funny at times and hopeful. I love character-driven storytelling and I think Mellors does it brilliantly. A poignant and beautifully written novel, I would highly recommend, especially if you have sisters.

Glorious Exploits by Ferdia Lennon ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Set in 412 BC Syracuse, Glorious Exploits follows two potters, Lampo and Gelon, who decide to stage Euripides' Medea using captured Athenian soldiers as actors.

This was our March book club pick and I was so relieved when during our Zoom discussion, I realised that lots of you gave it 3 stars too. It’s such a unique premise and there were definitely parts I really enjoyed, particularly some beautiful prose, however I never found myself wanting to pick this one up and felt let down by the fact so many reviews claimed it to be hilarious and I didn’t laugh once. Lennon captured the chaotic atmosphere of ancient Syracuse amazingly and I did feel really immersed in the world, however, the modern Irish vernacular used by the characters, was a bit jarring and I found the book to just be missing something, although I can’t put my finger on what exactly.

Despite everything I’ve said, I do think Glorious Exploits provides an intriguing exploration of the power and the importance of art and storytelling. And while it didn't fully captivate me, certain scenes linger in my thoughts - it’s a bit like Hot Milk this one, difficult to review and rate.

James by Percival Everett ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

In James, Percival Everett takes a fresh and deeply moving perspective on a classic American tale, Huckleberry Finn. The novel follows Jim, an enslaved man who is on the run to save himself and his family. Meanwhile, a young boy, Huck, has faked his own death to escape his violent father who recently returned to town. They go on a journey together along the Mississippi River, towards the elusive promise of the free states and beyond.

Oh my goodness, I just loved this book so much. Sometimes I ponder for a while over how to rate a novel on Goodreads, but this was unquestionably 5 stars. Although it’s a reimagining of Huckleberry Finn, you don't need to have read it to enjoy this. However, I now really want to read Huckleberry Finn, as I am sure it would deepen my appreciation for James based on what I have read in other reviews from people who’ve read both. James is profound, exploring identity, race, freedom and much more. Everett's writing is lyrical and gripping, and I loved the quiet intensity of this book, which really made me reflect on humanity. All the descriptions were so vivid, I felt as if I was watching a film whilst reading this one and just couldn’t put it down. It’s an unforgettable and necessary read, if you choose one book from this post to read, please make it this one.

Let me know in the comments what you’ve been reading recently and don’t forget to use the ‘chat’ section of this Substack to talk all things books!

Lots of love,

Tanya xx

2024 was an unforgettable year for me as a reader - it marked the beginning of this book club, a space that quickly became a cornerstone of my reading life. Through our shared discussions, debates, and discoveries, I found myself reading with greater depth, intention, and joy than ever before. Each book on this list is more than a favorite; it’s a memory of the conversations we had, the perspectives we uncovered, and the connections we made. As I look back, I’m reminded how important stories are to me, and how much more special they become when shared with you all. Here are the books that shaped this remarkable year of reading together.

I Capture The Castle by Dodie Smith

If I had to choose just one favourite of 2024, it would be this. It was one of those that’s been on my bookshelves for years, but I’d never got around to reading. Thank goodness I decided to read it (along with some of you too who also adored it!) because it is just the most wonderful, wonderful book. Cassandra, a 17 year old girl is living in a crumbling castle in Suffolk and the book is her journal she is writing. It made the book feel like she was personally filling me in on her life and I was completely invested from start to finish. The way Dodie Smith writes Cassandra’s voice is unbelievably cosy, relatable and captivating, I felt so sad when the book ended and would love to continue to read Cassandra’s journal forever. The story covers the family’s financial struggle, an intriguing love story (or two!) when the heirs to the castle arrive and the teenage girl experience. It really is one of the most enchanting books I’ve ever read.

The Summer That Melted Everything by Tiffany McDaniel

After reading Betty and adoring it more than I can put into words and now this, I can confirm Tiffany McDaniel is one of my favourite authors of all time. This book is set in the scorching height of summer in a small town in Ohio, where a little boy (Sal) who claims to be the devil turns up after a man named Autopsy Bliss summoned him. Sal ends up living with Autopsy and his family. The story of Sal’s time in Ohio is told from the voice of Fielding Bliss (Autopsy’s son) many years later and we know things can’t have ended in a good way, as Fielding mentions how damaged he is from the past. However, I never imagined it would end the way it did. I feel like I can’t say too much more about the story, as I don’t want to spoil it for you guys, but trust me when I say it is heartbreaking, powerful and beautifully written. I cried for half an hour after finishing it.

In Ascension by Martin MacInnes

This was our April book club pick and the conversations we had about it during our zoom meeting were so insightful, one of the members boyfriend’s is a scientist and she shed some really interesting light on some of the elements of the story others were questioning! In Ascension is set in the future and follows a microbiologist, Leigh, as she goes from taking an interest in life in all it’s forms at a very young age to travelling to space and growing life inside a spaceship. This book is truly one of a kind and the way it has left a lasting impression on me is the reason I gave it five stars. That, and the way MacInnes writes in such a compelling and unpretentious way, and deals with big issues whilst being personal, detailed and imaginative. Leigh’s fascination with life and the fragility of it really inspired a sense of wonder within me. I think this book is an important reminder of scale and I definitely found myself feeling differently about little things in life that I was allowing to bother me. For me, it felt like a psychological investigation of the meaning of life.

The Trees by Percival Everett

Another one that had been on my TBR list for quite a while. Set in a rural town in Mississippi, it’s a satirical detective novel that explores the history of lynching in the US and the effect it still has on its society today. It was such a propulsive read and so so unique, I never thought a book about such violence and sadness could be so funny, but it is. However, Everett chooses a couple of moments to break your heart - without giving too much away - the list of names was shattering. So powerful.

Great Circle by Maggie Shipstead

This book had been on my radar for ages, and I can’t fathom why I waited so long to pick it up. A big thank you to my friend May for encouraging me to finally dive in—it has now earned a place among my all-time favourites. The novel spans over a century, intertwining the lives of two extraordinary women: Marian Graves, a daring and fiercely independent aviator born in 1914 Montana, whose obsession with flight shapes her future, and Hadley Baxter, a contemporary Hollywood actress cast to portray Marian in a biopic. The depth and complexity of the characters captivated me entirely - their stories surprised me and moved me so much. Though the opening chapters may feel slow, persevere - this is a story that will undoubtedly become one of your favourites.

In Memoriam by Alice Winn

I adored this book. In Memoriam is about two boys at a public school in England and follows them on their journey as they enlist in the First World War and navigate a complicated love story. It is heart-breaking, brutal, suspenseful, yet charming and has made it onto my favourite books of all time list. Winn writes about the horrors of war so sensitively and in such a compelling way, I felt like I learnt so much of the practical side of things, whilst also being on a truly emotional rollercoaster. I really enjoyed the poetry weaved throughout this book, it added to the beauty of the story, which otherwise could be just purely harrowing. I honestly don’t know how else to describe how special this book is, please, just read it.

Wandering Souls by Cecile Pin

This was a very special book club moment of 2024, as we actually had the author co-host our meeting! Wandering Souls is about a family needing to flee post-war Vietnam in search of safety and a new home decide to go to the US. However, all does not go to plan and we end up following them for about fifty years and by the end I cared about these characters so incredibly deeply. The story is told from three different perspectives and it changes between them throughout the book. The main narrative is by Anh who is travelling with her two siblings (the family splits into two, you’ll find out why when you read it). The second is by a character I won’t name, but someone who you find out early on doesn’t make it, so was written from the afterlife and this was one of my favourite narratives to read - they are short, haunting passages and were some of the most beautiful in the book. The third is a mystery narrator who is revealed at the end. I adored this book, especially the way it shone a light on the refugee crisis.

Second Place by Rachel Cusk

I got chatting to a customer in Lutyens & Rubinstein (a wonderful, independent book shop in Notting Hill if you’re ever in the area). As we were both picking up Hot Milk by Deborah Levy, she recommended Second Place and I cannot thank her enough! This was our November book club pick, and although we haven’t had our meeting to discuss it yet, I have already finished it, and couldn’t wait to share some of my thoughts! I loved this book so much. It won’t be for everyone, but if you enjoy a quiet, reflective novel, I think you will find it captivating. A woman invites a famous artist to the remote coastal landscape where she lives, after being mildly obsessed with him for years, with the hope that his artistic vision will penetrate her feeling of unrest. The narrative unfolds with six characters living in close quarters - the woman, her husband, her daughter and her boyfriend, and the visiting artist and his companion. The tension between them is written SO well, with such precision and depth. Cusk’s exploration of identity, creativity, ambition and emotional vulnerablity is both beautiful and unsettling. The protagonist’s constant self-examination made me reflect a lot on my own thoughts and feelings. I particularly loved the way she explores the boundaries of artistic admiration and envy - oh there is so much to say with this book! I am very much looking forward to our book club meeting to discuss it at length next week.

The Island of Missing Trees by Elif Shafak

And finally, the most special book of the year, because our meeting for this one was our first book club in person, which I hosted in a wine bar last Monday evening. This book is a beautiful, lyrical exploration of love, loss, and identity. It’s about the forbidden love of Kostas, a Greek Cypriot, and Defne, a Turkish Cypriot, set against the backdrop of Cyprus’s turbulent history. Shafak's storytelling is incredible, weaving human and natural worlds with the fig tree as a unique narrator, which sounds strange, but it worked so well. Her writing is rich and immersive, balancing historical trauma with hope and renewal. It’s a heart-warming yet heart-breaking story of connection across time, borders, and generations.

Let me know in the comments what your favourite book of 2024 was and don’t forget to use the ‘chat’ section of this Substack to talk all things books!

Lots of love,

Tanya xx

I have to begin this post by shamefully saying that these have been my worst reading months in history. However, there is good reason - in the last three months we moved house, were temporarily living with family whilst renovating our new house, then moved into our new house (which was still full of builders for the first few weeks). It has been a very chaotic time and not many books were read, but I am still excited to share this small list with you. Also, very excited to share with you (in the photo above) our new bookshelves! Obviously, my favourite spot in our new home.

Ok, onto my reviews, in the order that I read them:

Long Island Compromise by Taddy Brodesser-Akner ⭐️⭐️

There was an inordinate amount of hype around this book, and after a few friends recommended it and I consistently found it prominently displayed on the “hot picks” table of various book shops, I caved and chose it for our September book club pick. I can only apologise profusely, as when we had our monthly book club meeting, it turned out everyone found this book as deeply disappointing as I did. It follows a wealthy Jewish-American family grappling with the aftermath of a kidnapping, a premise that initially sounded promising. I found myself unable to connect with any of the characters, who were, for the most part, thoroughly unlikeable. The authors attempt at dark humour felt more jarring than effective, as it wasn’t balanced with enough depth or nuance to evoke any real empathy for the characters struggles. I would not recommend this one.

The Hound of the Baskervilles by Arthur Conan Doyle ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This was our October book club pick. I was eager to choose something mysterious and suspenseful, but also cosy in the build up to Halloween and as the nights started drawing in, and this book was perfect. It’s part of the Sherlock Holmes series, but you needn’t have read any others in the series to enjoy this one. The story centres around the eerie curse of a phantom hound that has haunted the Baskerville family for generations. The mystery deepens when a suspicious death happens in the family, which Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson investigate. They uncover a web of dark family secrets during their quest to get to the bottom of this mystery and the story keeps you on the edge throughout. There are some great themes of reality vs supernatural, the power of fear and the influence of wealth and family dynamics. While the novel delivers all the thrills of a classic detective story, it also encourages deeper philosophical reflection on these themes. I loved every second of reading this book, not only for the pleasure of returning to the iconic Holmes and Watson duo (I have watched all the films and tv shows), but also for the atmospheric and remote setting of Dartmoor and the suspense of the story that just made me want to snuggle down under a blanket, light a fire and read. If you’re looking for a book to read over the Christmas holidays, I would recommend this one!

Second Place by Rachel Cusk ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I got chatting to a customer in Lutyens & Rubinstein (a wonderful, independent book shop in Notting Hill if you’re ever in the area). As we were both picking up Hot Milk by Deborah Levy, she recommended Second Place and I cannot thank her enough! This was our November book club pick, and although we haven’t had our meeting to discuss it yet, I have already finished it, and couldn’t wait to share some of my thoughts! I loved this book so much. It won’t be for everyone, but if you enjoy a quiet, reflective novel, I think you will find it captivating. A woman invites a famous artist to the remote coastal landscape where she lives, after being mildly obsessed with him for years, with the hope that his artistic vision will penetrate her feeling of unrest. The narrative unfolds with six characters living in close quarters - the woman, her husband, her daughter and her boyfriend, and the visiting artist and his companion. The tension between them is written SO well, with such precision and depth. Cusk’s exploration of identity, creativity, ambition and emotional vulnerablity is both beautiful and unsettling. The protagonist’s constant self-examination made me reflect a lot on my own thoughts and feelings. I particularly loved the way she explores the boundaries of artistic admiration and envy - oh there is so much to say with this book!

The Island of Missing Trees by Elif Shafak ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

And finally, the most special book of the year, because our meeting for this one was our first book club in person, which I hosted in a wine bar last Monday evening. This book is a beautiful, lyrical exploration of love, loss, and identity. It’s about the forbidden love of Kostas, a Greek Cypriot, and Defne, a Turkish Cypriot, set against the backdrop of Cyprus’s turbulent history. Shafak's storytelling is incredible, weaving human and natural worlds with the fig tree as a unique narrator, which sounds strange, but it worked so well. Her writing is rich and immersive, balancing historical trauma with hope and renewal. It’s a heart-warming yet heart-breaking story of connection across time, borders, and generations.

Let me know in the comments what you’ve been reading recently and don’t forget to use the ‘chat’ section of this Substack to talk all things books!

Lots of love,

Tanya xx

I’m so excited to run through all the books I read in July and August with you guys. I’d say it was a pretty good couple of months, because even though I didn’t read HUGE amounts (hello house move admin!), there are TWO five stars in here!

Onto my reviews, in the order that I read them:

The Women by Kristin Hannah ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I am having to cast my mind back to the very beginning of July when I read this book on holiday in Crete. The story is historical fiction about a young woman named Frankie who serves as an army nurse during the Vietnam War. I particularly like reading historical fiction set in eras or situations I don’t know much about, as although it’s fiction, usually the author has done copious amounts of research and the facts remain true even though the characters are imagined, so I enjoy the educational aspect as well as the story. I am a big Kristin Hannah fan and thoroughly enjoyed reading this book on holiday, although it wasn’t as incredible as The Great Alone (my favourite of hers), it was an easy, evocative read with multiple love stories, visceral and detailed writing about the war and important messaging about recognising women as heroes.

I Capture The Castle by Dodie Smith ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This was our July book club pick and I was rather pleased with myself for picking this one, as it’s made it onto my favourite books of all time list. It was one of those that’s been on my bookshelves for years, but I’d never got around to reading. Thank goodness I decided to read it (along with some of you too who also adored it!) because it is just the most wonderful, wonderful book. Cassandra, a 17 year old girl is living in a crumbling castle in Suffolk and the book is her journal she is writing. It made the book feel like she was personally filling me in on her life and I was completely invested from start to finish. The way Dodie Smith writes Cassandra’s voice is unbelievably cosy, relatable and captivating, I felt so sad when the book ended and would love to continue to read Cassandra’s journal forever. The story covers the family’s financial struggle, an intriguing love story (or two!) when the heirs to the castle arrive and the teenage girl experience. It really is one of the most enchanting books I’ve ever read.

The Road by Cormac McCarthy ⭐️⭐️⭐️

To say I struggled with this book is an understatement. It’s not long at all and took me a full two weeks to read! It tells the story of a father and son trying to make their way across a post-apocolytpic landscape where danger is around every corner and there is virtually nothing to eat or anywhere safe to sleep. The boys mother committed suicide in order to escape how terrible their world had become and the father is determined to get his son to safety. Now, I know this sounds very intriguing, but I found this book incredibly dull. I am all for a slow, quiet book, but only if I enjoy the writing style and with this one I just found it too repetitive and blunt. I gave it three stars in the end, because I did enjoy parts of it, particularly the demonstration of the power of a father’s love and the way the author confronted the theme of death, but I won’t be reading this one again in a hurry. Controversial, as I know it is a much loved book, it just wasn’t for me.

The Summer That Melted Everything by Tiffany McDaniel ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

After reading Betty and adoring it more than I can put into words and now this, I can confirm Tiffany McDaniel is one of my favourite authors of all time. This book is set in the scorching height of summer in a small town in Ohio, where a little boy (Sal) who claims to be the devil turns up after a man named Autopsy Bliss summoned him. Sal ends up living with Autopsy and his family. The story of Sal’s time in Ohio is told from the voice of Fielding Bliss (Autopsy’s son) many years later and we know things can’t have ended in a good way, as Fielding mentions how damaged he is from the past. However, I never imagined it would end the way it did. I feel like I can’t say too much more about the story, as I don’t want to spoil it for you guys, but trust me when I say it is heartbreaking, powerful and beautifully written. I cried for half an hour after finishing it.

Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This was our August book club pick and we had a very interesting discussion about it earlier this week during our book club zoom meeting. Some loved it, others didn’t and some were fairly indifferent (I sat in the latter camp). I did give it 4 stars, as I thought it was a unique story, it made me cry at the end and I fell in love with Marcellus (the octopus). I also thought the depiction of themes such as grief, loss, abandonment and ageing were really touching. However, I found it quite slow going in the first half and it just wasn’t a stand-out book for me. The story is about an elderly woman, Tova, who lives in a small town of Sowell Bay, Washington State and thirty years ago, lost her only son to a boating accident. She works as a cleaner at the local aquarium where she befriends a giant pacific octopus who is our second narrator (I particularly enjoyed his parts). The third narrator is Cameron, who was abandoned by his mother at a young age, lives with his Aunt and now thirty years later is trying to find his father. Spoiler alert, the stories end up coming together, but I won’t tell you how! It is a feel-good and sweet mystery. I just didn’t fall head over heels for this one.

Let me know in the comments what you’ve been reading recently and don’t forget to use the ‘chat’ section of this Substack to talk all things books!

Lots of love,

Tanya xx

In Memoriam by Alice Winn ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I ADORED this book. In Memoriam is about two boys at a public school in England and follows them on their journey as they enlist in the First World War and navigate a complicated love story. It is heart-breaking, brutal, suspenseful, yet charming and has made it onto my favourite books of all time list. Winn writes about the horrors of war so sensitively and in such a compelling way, I felt like I learnt so much of the practical side of things, whilst also being on a truly emotional rollercoaster. I really enjoyed the poetry weaved throughout this book, it added to the beauty of the story, which otherwise could be just purely harrowing. I honestly don’t know how else to describe how special this book is, please, just read it.

Crooked Plow by Itamar Vieira Junior ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Our book club pick for May was Crooked Plow by Itamar Vieira Junior. This book was shortlisted (but didn’t win) for the International Booker Prize Award. Set in Brazil, three generations after slavery was abolished, Crooked Plow is about a community of farmers living and working on a plantation. It follows two sisters Bibiana and Belonisia from a young age when they discover their grandmother’s knife and whilst playing with it, one of them suffers an injury that will effect the rest of her life. The first part of the story is from Bibiana’s perspective, the second from Belonisia and the third from an ancient spirit - this book incorporates magical elements and blurs the lines between fantasy and reality. It’s a powerful story of difficult lives and violence, certainly not an easy read and to be honest, I didn’t enjoy it enormously and it didn’t blow me away, but I think it’s an important story.

Apples Never Fall by Liane Moriarty ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

After a few pretty heavy reads and a busy month, I was in need of something easy-going and lots of you recommended this one. I have read a couple of books by this author before and they are what I would call GREAT holiday reads. I knew it wasn’t going to be particularly special or life-changing, but very readable, engaging and not trashy (I can’t enjoy trashy books, even as a guilty pleasure, they just frustrate me) and for the simple reason that this book was exactly what I needed at the time, I gave it four stars. The story is a family saga featuring a married couple in their sixties and their four adult children. The whole family have played competitive tennis at some point in their lives and the parents ended up setting up a coaching club, so if, like me, you love a bit of tennis, it’s a nice thread that runs throughout the book. However, this is not a tennis story, it’s a story of a missing person (the mother) and is a great mystery that kept me turning the page and wanting to find out where she was. I found the humour throughout the story, particularly from the mother, made the book feel cosy and this, along with the mystery set up, made for a really enjoyable read.

Wandering Souls by Cecile Pin ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This was our book club pick for June and I am beyond pleased that we ended up going for this one. Big five stars from me. A family needing to flee post-war Vietnam in search of safety and a new home decide to go to the US. However, all does not go to plan and we end up following them for about fifty years (I think! I don’t have the book infront of me right now, as a friend is reading it!) and by the end I cared about these characters so incredibly deeply. The story is told from three different perspectives and it changes between them throughout the book. The main narrative is by Anh who is travelling with her two siblings (the family splits into two, you’ll find out why when you read it). The second is by a character I won’t name, but someone who you find out early on doesn’t make it, so was written from the afterlife and this was one of my favourite narratives to read - they are short, haunting passages and were some of the most beautiful in the book. The third is a mystery narrator who is revealed at the end. I adored this book, especially the way it shone a light on the refugee crisis.

Soldier, Sailor by Claire Kilroy ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I gave this book four stars, because I think Kilroy’s writing on motherhood is some of the most brave, raw and honest I have ever read. However, I did not enjoy this book and I certainly wouldn’t recommend it if you are pregnant or have recently given birth. Even now that I am 20 months postpartum, I found it uncomfortable to read and found myself rushing through it to get to the finish line. I would go as far as to label this book a psychological horror. The story is told by a mother, Soldier, speaking to her son, Sailor and she recounts in detail her struggle in the first couple of years of his life. I think it’s a really important story, but not for the faint-hearted.

Let me know in the comments what you’ve been reading recently and don’t forget to use the ‘chat’ section of this Substack to talk all things books!

Lots of love,

Tanya xx

The 5 star books

Great Circle by Maggie Shipstead

This book had been on my radar for ages, and I can’t fathom why I waited so long to pick it up. A big thank you to my friend May for encouraging me to finally dive in—it has now earned a place among my all-time favourites. The novel spans over a century, intertwining the lives of two extraordinary women: Marian Graves, a daring and fiercely independent aviator born in 1914 Montana, whose obsession with flight shapes her future, and Hadley Baxter, a contemporary Hollywood actress cast to portray Marian in a biopic. The depth and complexity of the characters captivated me entirely - their stories surprised me and moved me so much. Though the opening chapters may feel slow, persevere - this is a story that will undoubtedly become one of your favourites.

The Trees by Percival Everett

Another one that has been on my TBR list for quite a while. Set in a rural town in Mississippi, it’s a satirical detective novel that explores the history of lynching in the US and the effect it still has on its society today. It was such a propulsive read and so so unique, I never thought a book about such violence and sadness could be so funny, but it is. However, Everett chooses a couple of moments to break your heart - without giving too much away - the list of names was shattering. So powerful.

In Ascension by Martin MacInnes

This was our April book club pick and the conversations we had about it during our zoom meeting were so insightful, one of the members boyfriend’s is a scientist and she shed some really interesting light on some of the elements of the story others were questioning! In Ascension is set in the future and follows a microbiologist, Leigh, as she goes from taking an interest in life in all it’s forms at a very young age to travelling to space and growing life inside a spaceship. This book is truly one of a kind and the way it has left a lasting impression on me is the reason I gave it five stars. That, and the way MacInnes writes in such a compelling and unpretentious way, and deals with big issues whilst being personal, detailed and imaginative. Leigh’s fascination with life and the fragility of it really inspired a sense of wonder within me. I think this book is an important reminder of scale and I definitely found myself feeling differently about little things in life that I was allowing to bother me. For me, it felt like a psychological investigation of the meaning of life and I cannot recommend this book enough.

The 4 star books

Elizabeth Is Missing by Emma Healy

I didn’t expect a lot from this book as I typically find thrillers not very literarily satisfying, but it was a beautiful and unique story. The protagonist and narrator is a woman with dementia and I imagine this was a tricky one to write and get right/authentic, but it felt so honest and really surprised me how light and funny it felt given the very sad topic. It had moments that pulled my heart into two, don’t get me wrong, but the story was told so beautifully and I think the lightness made it really enjoyable. It’s about an elderly woman who believes her best friend is missing and on her quest to find her, gets taken decades back into her past. The twist at the end made my jaw drop.

The Bee Sting by Paul Murray

I raced through the first 150 pages of this, then after hitting a reading slump with it at about page 200, I am so happy I powered on through. It’s about the dysfunctional lives of a family in Ireland after the 2008 financial crash. Murray’s observations on loneliness, family, guilt, grief, sexuality and climate change were so thought-provoking and wonderful. To cover that many themes in such depth takes some really clever writing, incredibly detailed characters and just creative brilliance. PJ, Cass, Imelda and Dickie are characters whose stories will stay in my heart. If it wasn’t for the 100 pages where I considered not finishing it, this would be in my five star section.

Sula by Toni Morrison

Morrison's writing is like nothing I've ever read - unspeakably beautiful and rich and wonderful. Even her foreword was stunning. The story is of a girl called Sula and her best friend Nel. It spans pretty much their entire lifetime in "The Bottom" in Ohio, but really the story is of their girlhood. This book has so many interesting themes from race to motherhood to sexuality, but I found the most poignant one to be morals - what is "right" or "wrong". Is Sula a hero or a villain? It is quite a disturbing book, particularly the first half, however, it's a brilliant read and I would really recommend. More of a morning than a bedtime read if you want to sleep peacefully! It’s so interesting writing these reviews even just one month after reading the book, because now I want to put this in my five star section, but I gave it four stars on GoodReads on finishing it, so we will stick with that.

This Family by Kate Sawyer

I read this in 3 days whilst on holiday and it was the PERFECT holiday read. I always struggle to find a book in this category as most “beach reads” are not to my taste, but you guys recommended this to me after I asked for something similar to The Paper Palace and it was wonderful, so thank you. As you can imagine from the title, it’s centred around a family. It’s set over the course of a Summer’s day, but interspersed with memories from the past (all from different family member’s perspectives). I would recommend this if you want something cosy, quick to read, but touching and engaging.

Once Upon A River by Diane Setterfield

I would recommend reading this if you liked Stardust, Book of Dust or The Binding, because it gave me the same feelings I had whilst reading them - it's charming, cosy and mystical. On a dark midwinter's night in an ancient inn on the river Thames, a badly injured man and a lifeless young girl come through the door. Hours later, the girl returns to life and everyone is wondering whether there is a scientific explanation or is it magic? The story is centred around the mystery of the girl and the three separate families who claim her to be theirs. This book really swept me away every time I picked it up and for that reason alone, I would highly recommend it.

The 3 star books

Ariadne by Jennifer Saint

I feel sad leaving this review, as my mum got me this book for Christmas and I know friends who loved it, but....on finishing Ariadne, I was left feeling underwhelmed. I adored Circe and this book was marketed as a must-read if you loved Circe. To me, this didn't even come close to being on that level of depth, storytelling or character development. The first part I really enjoyed, it was action-packed and interesting. The rest of the book fell flat, it was all plot to the point it felt like a Classics textbook. I didn't react emotionally to the tragic parts due to not being invested in the characters. I thought this book was ok, not terrible, not great.

The Rachel Incident by Caroline O’Donoghue

This book is set in Ireland during the recession and tells the story of two best friends navigating their way through life and love in their twenties. I knew early on this was going to be a 3 star from me, however I continued on as it was very readable and relatable, which made it ultimately entertaining. I struggle to fall in love with books that have such utilitarian writing, but I did enjoy following two best friends figuring out life together. I think the final third of this book was the strongest and had quite a satisfying end. In summary, I sort of liked it, definitely didn't love it - I think it would be a good holiday read.

I hope you enjoyed this post! I will do these quarterly from now on. Please don’t forget to subscribe if you haven’t already, it means the world to me. You can subscribe for free, but if you decide to become a paid subscriber, you get access to the monthly book club meetings on Zoom!

Until next time, Tanya xx

I always read every evening before bed, my boyfriend and I tend to go up at about 8:30pm and read until 9:30pm (yes, we like to be asleep by 10pm latest - it’s the only way to get through life with a little one), and then on days where I’m not working and am on my own with our son, I read when he naps. In terms of getting things done around the house like tidying up, doing the dishwasher etc. - my best piece of advice is do it when the baby is awake! He either crawls around the kitchen floor whilst I clean up, (he loves to play with a saucepan and a wooden spoon), or I do it with him on my hip. That way, when he goes down for a nap, I can chill out too.

Last year, I read some incredible books and thought I would share them with you. I read 24 books in total, 6 of which blew me away and were pretty much perfect books in my eyes. I use Good Reads to track my books, you can follow me there if you’re interested and want real time updates of what I’m reading, but I just use it as a reading log book for myself. The star rating on Good Reads is 1-5 and these books were my 5 stars of the year.

My 5 star reads - in the order that I read them, not in order of preference.

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin

This was my first book of 2023, so I felt very lucky to have picked something that I loved so much. It always feels like a good to start the year on a reading high! Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow was a really different read for me, as it’s about video games which is something I know nothing about (nor do I have an interest in). I can’t remember what made me pick it up, probably the hype at the time, but I’m so glad I did as it was a really easy read, but also very good. It’s a story of two friends and their love of video games and their complicated relationship with each other. I think Zevin touches on jealousy and misunderstanding in a unique and thoughtful way and she also developed the characters so well that I found myself thinking about them whilst brushing my teeth days after finishing the book.

Darling by India Knight

Darling was just a complete joy to read. It’s a modern re-telling of The Pursuit of Love, which you absolutely don’t need to have read, but if you have, you’ll know the story. I don’t think it spoils it at all though, as Knight reimagines the characters with such charm and wit, you’ll just fall in love with reading their story regardless of knowing the general plot. A teenage girl (Linda) lives in the middle of nowhere (Norfolk - where I am from - to be exact!) with her rock-star father, boho mother, lots of siblings and her cousin. The story is narrated by the cousin (Frances) and we follow Linda through her life and specifically on her quest for love. This book was such a comfort read for me, I kept stopping if I was reading next to my boyfriend on the sofa just to to tell him how brilliant and funny and heartwarming it was. I would recommend this to everyone.

Betty by Tiffany McDaniel

If I *had* to choose a favourite out of all my top reads of last year, this would be it. Betty well and truly stole my heart. It’s a coming of age story set in a fictional Ohio town of Breathed in the 1960’s. This story is not for the faint-hearted. It’s heart-wrenchingly tragic and quite disturbing with themes of racism, violence, poverty and depression, but it’s also one of the most beautiful books I have ever read. I am a sucker for a father/daughter dynamic and Betty’s father, Landon, is one of my favourite fictional fathers of all time. The exquisite writing, Landon’s stories and McDaniel capturing the strength of a family bond so perfectly are the light within this dark story.

Circe by Madeline Miller

Oooooo I just adored Circe!! It was brilliant and fierce and powerful. Circe is the tale of a complex nymph-turned-witch heroine and her journey to freedom. I was captivated from start to finish thanks to Miller’s extraordinary and beautiful writing, lots of adventure and a mother/son relationship that left me with a lump in my throat unable to move from the garden chair for about 30 minutes after finishing this one. Whether you’re a fan of Greek Mythology, fantasy or even just READING - you will love Circe, I promise you. It’s so intelligent and there are so many quotes I wished I highlighted whilst reading (do you guys highlight quotes? I often take photos of pages on my phone, but I feel sad as I never really return to them). I will 100% be re-reading all of these top books of 2023 at some point and cannot wait to dive back into the world of Circe, until then, it has a very special place in my heart.

Tom Lake by Ann Patchett

If you want to read something that will be comforting and cosy with the most satisfying ending, read Tom Lake. It's a story within a story and sometimes I find this set up difficult to get into, but the writing is perfect, moving seamlessly back and forth between past and present - a joy to read. It's about three daughters (all grown up) who return to their parent's cherry farm during the pandemic (very important note here that the pandemic is barely mentioned at all which I was thankful for - I’ve had enough Covid chat for a good ten years!), and since they are just hanging out all day picking cherries, the daughters demand their mother tells them a story from her past they have always wanted to know about. It's a quiet, cosy, yet emotionally impactful novel that you just never want to end with a beautiful exploration of what it means to be happy, love and the lives mothers lived before their children. I just loved it so much.

Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver

Like Betty, this book is not for the faint-hearted, but if you can bear it, it’s an important story about real issues that will open your heart like no other. It's a modern adaptation of Dicken's David Copperfield, but set in Virginia highlighting the opioid crisis (same with Darling, you don’t need to have read David Copperfield to read this - I did when I was in school, but don’t remember the whole story). Demon Copperhead is such a special book, it's deep and emotional and raw and the writing is perhaps some of the most beautiful I've ever read, especially against the backdrop of some of the darkest storylines. It's not an easy or comfortable read that's for sure, but Kingsolver finds a way to add light and wit to almost every page. It's so rare to come across a book where you know the characters will stay with you forever and so I will really treasure this one. I feel like I watched Demon grow up in these pages and I promise you, he is a character you will completely fall in love with and care for deeply, well I certainly did.

What were your favourite books of last year? Let me know in the comments, I love a good recommendation.