Book of the Year 2025 A Silent Tsunami: Swimming Against the Tide of my Mother's Dementia by Anthea Rowan
FICTION Winner The Thickness of Ice by Gerard Beirne A restrained, but immersive novel set in the subarctic town of Churchill, Manitoba. We shift between different times and focuses and that makes the prose, which is as crisp as it is dense, really dynamic. A very pleasing readerly experience. Wade's best friend Jack has been missing for decades, and his absence drives a plot that, despite its sedate pace, never loses momentum. The mystery becomes a quest when Esther enters Wade’s life and begins to research the disappearance. The shift between past and present is handled with seamless dexterity and makes the prose, which is as crisp as it is dense, really dynamic. Tension builds nicely as we become increasingly absorbed by the characters’ interior lives. They all have psychological substance, including the complexities of Tess’s Dene heritage, Jack’s commitment issues, and Wade’s repressed trauma. The real triumph is the novel’s powerful sense of place: not just from a setting point of view, but deep into the topography and landscape that shape the themes and the lives of the characters. The landscape is a constant of sorts, but one that thickens and thaws, reflecting the sense of resolve we see in the characters and the ways they develop as sometimes opaque and sometimes shifting into different hues throughout the novel. The tundra, which is both frozen and in flux, provides an apt backdrop for a tale of emotional stasis and impending upheaval. It's rich with pleasing details too, such as how to build a log cabin on the permafrost, and how to survive polar bear attacks by performing a striptease.
Shortlist About Charlie by JM Langan This is a well put together novel of grief, addiction, love and the way lives intertwine. A polished trauma narrative that is very pleasing in its command of prose and dynamics, with excellent narrative tension. It will appeal to readers of Sylvia Plath, Elizabeth Wurtzel, Susanna Kaysen, etc. Emma is committed to a rehabilitation centre following the death of her husband, Charlie; drug misuse compounds her psychological problems, as does her history of abuse, the apparent inadequacy of therapists, and, not least, Emma's own reluctance to accept help. It’s complicated further by her relationship with her friend Jason, who remains loyal despite her initial refusal to co-operate. The connection between the two of them is handled with sensitivity and depth and adds complexity to a novel that deals with difficult subjects. It develops into a satisfying and uplifting tale of recovery.
Bruise by Adrian Markle A bleak but arresting novel about the legacy of trauma, both psychological and physical. Jamie experiences both: he and his brother are left psychologically damaged by a violent father, and his later cage-fighting career is destroyed by a serious hand injury. We meet Jamie on his return to his hometown, and his backstory is drip-fed in the form of succinct flashbacks - these deliver just enough momentum to help the unhurried plot move forward. The cage-fighting theme dovetails nicely into broader themes of masculine violence and guilt. The plot is an inverted rags-to-riches story, and Jamie's return to the grim landscape of his youth is mirrored by his hometown's social decline. Markle conveys the paucity of the environment with deft strokes – there’s an enjoyable blue collar tone, reminiscent at times of American dirty realists like Tobias Wolff and John Ford. We sense their influence on Markle’s economical prose, which packs a fierce emotional punch.The rhythms and diction in the sparse but poetic prose are real gut-punches at times and this helps layer the imagery and themes of breakages, fights, violence and lack that weave throughout the narrative. It’s masculine and gritty without being overplayed or trite like the best bits of the Rocky movies without the Hollywood endings.
Hope Never Knew Horizon by Douglas Bruton This is a delightfully inventive novel combining three curious stories, each with the theme of hope - the life of Ada Alice Pullen who modelled for George Frederic Watts’s painting, Hope; American poet Emily Dickinson, for whom ‘hope is a thing with feathers’; the whale on display at the Natural History Museum, named Hope. The tale of the dead whale’s discovery, its journey to London and its history as a museum artefact is rich with historical details, and Pullen’s curious Pygmalion-style relationship with Frederic Leighton is touching. In the Dickinson sections, Margaret’s speculations about Emily's feelings for her sister in law, Susan Gilbert, are subtly rendered, adding an interesting dimension to the biographical speculations. The voices are strong, with a pleasing informality and immediacy, and there’s a brave and imaginative reach to the book. The whale, the painting, and Dickinson's poetry all signify hope in different ways, but together they invite us to reflect on the meaning of the term and its central role in creativity and cultural value. The layering of different ways of perceiving, experiencing and expressing hope makes for compelling reading. This, weaved with the threefold narrative and structure offers an unusual blend of page-turner and deep, slow consideration of ideas – a lovely readerly experience. There is something about the whale as a symbol of the way hope can ‘resurface’ and transform us and itself across time and tides too. And all of this is accomplished with impressive understatement.
Kitten Heels by Maureen Cullen Kathleen is thirteen years old, and resentful of being expected to look after her younger siblings and take on adult responsibilities. The novel is set in working-class Glasgow in the early sixties. There is a strong vernacular feel, and Kathleen’s voice is strong and funny throughout - the humour offsetting the dark themes. Some of the descriptive details are lovely - the scenes in church, for instance, and Kathleen's struggles with Catholicism - endearing us to the protagonist. The characterisation is strong too, particularly her slap-happy mother, and the delightfully eccentric auntie Shelagh. There is plenty of dramatic potential in Kathleen’s predicament, and we get a powerful sense of the constraints that shape her life and prospects. The book reveals a culture and a system weighted against women, and Kathleen’s escape has more to do with luck than hard work or talent; certainly it offers a cogent and damning indictment of mid-century Scottish society, both at domestic and institutional levels. The portrayal of the difficult and somewhat wacky characters was very pleasing, meeting the overarching themes well, without feeling either overdone or mean-spirited, a refreshing approach for this kind of dark trauma narrative. It’s full of humour, and explores the complex relationships between mother, mother-figures, daughters and other women in a genuinely warm and hopeful way.
The Manhattan Deception by Simon Leighton-Porter This has the feel of a Robert Harris style thriller, with nice layers of detail, and immersive writing, alternating between the present day and the second world war. When James discovers lost artwork and bars of gold in the house he inherits from his uncle, it sets off a series of events that puts him in contact with Anna, a young reporter. Their relationship develops alongside their pursuit of the truth, and brings an extra-dimension to the novel in the later stages. The war-time period elements work well - the opening scenes in Germany are evocative and intriguing, for instance, and the idea of ‘Operation Faustus’, the pact between Roosevelt and Churchill is fascinating. It’s not immediately clear what the connection is between Oppenheimer and the two German scientists, Standfluss and Reiss, and who the mysterious married couple are, but the plot gradually tightens, and things become much clearer once James and Anna begin to share information with each other. From thereon it gathers momentum nicely, particularly in the final third, and the final scenes make for a dramatic climax. It has been meticulously researched and introduces some interesting theories about the development of the atomic bomb.
NON FICTION Winner A Silent Tsunami: Swimming Against the Tide of my Mother's Dementia by Anthea Rowan Really great non-fiction invites a reader with a friendly, knowledgeable voice into a subject that they might not ordinarily be interested in, and illuminates it with flare and sophistication. This book does just that. A beautiful blend of memoir and medical science journalism that probably shouldn’t work but does. It’s forensic, appropriately, in its levels of detail and the way the lenses dip in and out of internal and external, personal reflection and social enquiry. The structure, alongside the prose, is maze-like, which mirrors the experiences of the dementia sufferer and those who love and care for them. The tsunami metaphor is well-chosen, and is revisited to good effect throughout the book, with its abundant water and drowning imagery. Rowan views the illness effectively through the lens of her own experience of motherhood - it invites empathy, but also illustrates how caring for dementia patients differs from raising children, given the crushing absence of a future that accompanies the lost past. Rowan loses part of herself as well as her mother - the scenes where she denies knowing the author are among the most distressing. Another strength is her willingness to engage with the medical aspects of the disease: the book is well researched, offering much fascinating information about dementia, particularly its links to depression - the other of ‘the two Ds’ that dominate her mother’s life.. Rowan’s book is an outstanding addition to a rapidly growing corpus of dementia literature. While not recommended for hypochondriacs, it has huge contemporary relevance, not least with global dementia diagnoses set to double every twenty years. This is a seriously impressive book.
Shortlist Dear Arlo: letters to my grandson by Olga Campbell It takes a while to work out the significance of the opening pages of this book, but as the trail picks up, it takes the reader through the different journeys, with thoughts, illustrations and ideas to produce a really engaging and shifting memoir. The writer understands, without overstating the points, the ways different parts of our lives come together in odd, unexpected and revelatory ways. The biographical context and the theme of intergenerational trauma give these creations significant weight. The context comes in the form of letters and prose pieces detailing her parents’ history in Russian prison camps and the premature death of her husband. Gradually we learn more about the experiences that inform the creative material, and the effect is cumulative, resulting in a forceful and poignant ‘multidimensional memoir’. The book is the author’s attempt to understand and ameliorate her own inherited trauma, but it's also instructional, aimed at helping Arlo appreciate history, humanity, and his own heritage. We have a strong sense of Olga’s life as a journey of self-exploration, but this rarely feels like self-indulgence: she is interested in others, not least her grandson, but also the human condition generally. In some ways it’s a book about life’s compensations: for all the sadness, there is art, culture, education, family, community, dogs, and, not least, food! Indeed, one of the joys of the book is the recipes, and the sense of cultural and generational continuity they represent. The readers feels as if they’ve been to the places and times these strange messages to a grandson convey, and that is testament to the sensory, multifaceted story telling techniques on display. It’s a wise and often inspirational book
Green World: A Tragicomic Memoir of Love & Shakespeare by Michelle Ephraim This is a wonderful story of academia and the redemptive potential of literature. Ephraim struggles to find direction as a postgraduate student until she discovers Shakespeare, whose work she begins to read through the lens of her own experience. The key text is Merchant of Venice, and the relationship between Shylock and Jessica. As the daughter of Holocaust survivors, she was raised in the shadow of her parents’ trauma, and her reflections on Shakespeare help illuminate the complexities of their behaviour, deepening her understanding of her own Jewish identity. The book offers a fascinating insight into American academic life, particularly the politics and brutality of the tenure track system: her quest for tenure creates real tension in the narrative, and the reader becomes committed to her need to achieve her goal. The book's subtitle is appropriate too: the memoir is genuinely tragicomic, with moments of heartbreak punctuated by delightful comic moments - confusing Alan and Norman Bates, for instance, and her dad wanting to take everyone to the Holocaust Museum before Michelle’s wedding! The fundamental message is about the power of reading, the power of narrative, the power of literature to help us rethink and reconfigure ourselves. And at the heart of this is something uniquely human – whilst we get the specifics of American Academy, and Jewish American life, what we also get is proper hope that it is only through struggle and graft that we can unleash those powers. She weaves such a seemingly strange blend of themes and ideas into a really well structured, amusing and emotional memoir with astonishing ease. Anyone who doubts the value of literary criticism (and there are plenty around at the moment) should read this excellent book.
Influencing Death: Reframing Dying for Better Living by Penny Hawkins Smith, RN A fascinating memoir from a hospice nurse and TikTok influencer, mixing end-of-life case studies with frank autobiography. She writes with pleasing conversational tone and candour, and she deals with the subject of death in a forthright and refreshing fashion. She uses her life story to frame her hospice care experiences expertly, moving from the personal to the professional in a way that keeps the narrative tight and engaging. At times funny, at others bleak, we get a lovely blend of different episodes of a nurse’s life and those she cares for, alongside some well thought-through reflections on life, being and death. These are weighty things and often, in other books, come across as either meme-level platitudes or woe is me nonsense. We don’t get that here. Its matter-of-fact tone and blend of world-weary humour reflect the humour and outlook of lots of nurses, and this gives the reader an intimate readerly experience, which allows these deep philosophical thoughts to land with more power. Her honesty about her own fallibility serves her well, both as a nurse and as a storyteller. Her life has been blighted by disastrous marriages and alcoholism, but her optimism is refreshing, as is her interest in others: her enthusiasm for her job is particularly infectious, and it’s easy to see why she is a popular social media commentator. The anecdotes are sometimes funny and sometimes heartbreaking; but while her approach is always blunt and unflinching, she shows sympathy and respect for her patients. There are touching tales, from Don’s journey home, to Margaret’s cirrhosis-induced madness; there are entertaining discussions of deathbed phenomena, from death rattles to deathbed visions; there are thought-provoking philosophical reflections, from the idea of death as a ‘sacred thing’, to the issue of euthanasia (Medical Aid in Dying), all of which make for a fine read.
Once Our Lives: Life, Death and Love in the Middle Kingdom by Qin Sun Stubis A gripping memoir focusing mostly on the author’s parents, An Chu and Yan, and their struggles in midst of profound historical change and turbulence. Myth and superstition inform their lives from the outset - An Chu is cursed when his mother's encounter with a beggar condemns him to perpetual ill luck; Yan’s mother gives her daughter away because she’s a ‘strong child’, while her ‘Second Mother’ accepts her into her home in order to open ‘Fortune's door’. However, in the course of the memoir we see that lives are determined more by economics, and an ideology that creates a terrifying China for everyone. It's fascinating to hear how the so-called Great Leap Forward affected the individual lives, and we share Yan's frustration at the economic and social consequences, particularly the ‘Alice in Wonderland’ absurdity of the new regime (‘Ironically, to avoid being sent to the farm, people had to learn to become sheep’). The additional injustices Yan faces as a woman are interesting - the cultural assumptions about gender, not to mention the domestic politics of hierarchy that blight her life with her husband's family. Interesting too are the ways in which the market economy continues to thrive at the local level, as the couple supplement their income with various business ventures, from embroidery to selling reeds for food wrapping; the myth of communist equality is also exposed as political leaders head for ‘the expensive, upscale apartments vacated by their unlucky predecessors’. One hierarchy is merely replaced by another, a situation that becomes increasingly evident and dangerous during the Cultural Revolution when the author's father is arrested - inevitably his parents interpret this as confirmation of the curse that shapes his destiny! With humour and vivid descriptions, the book offers an immersive, well developed and thoughtful account, enhanced by the poetic approach to the story-telling and imagery, as well as the way it takes in several generations of a family with such ease and accessibility for the reader. It is an impressive and significant read. The slow menace of the regime and the things it did to its people is pertinent to our times. The Van Conversion Bible: The Ultimate Guide to Converting a Campervan by Charlie Low and Dale Comley For anyone looking to convert a campervan this is definitely the book for them - it’s hard to imagine a more comprehensive and detailed guide. The material is extremely well presented, with interesting information about the history of van culture, followed by everything one could ever need to know about the conversion process, from planning to building. It teems with practical advice about maintenance, and sections on driving the van both in the States and overseas (who knew you had to weigh campervans?!); it's also nicely illustrated throughout with clear diagrams and lovely photographs. It’s the sort of book enthusiasts will want to own. Even for a reader with no prior investment in vans, there is something about this book that is utterly compelling. Something about the level of detail and simplicity of delivery, as well as the things only an expert would know. It’s just very well done. The Mind of a Horse by Helena Telkanranta, Maija Karala, Ville Sinkkonen This lovely book views the complexities of horse biology and psychology through the lens of human understanding in ways that make it accessible, without falling into the trap of meaningless anthropomorphism. No small feat! It blends a comic strip narrative about fictional horses and their owners to illustrate topics such as senses, behavioral needs, and motivations and learning, with more detailed but accessible summaries of key information. It’s a really innovative approach to what is essentially a guide on caring for, training and understanding horses. While the book feels well researched, it's largely jargon free, striking the right balance between science and accessibility - ideal for general readers of all ages, but particularly young people. The latter will certainly warm to the sections on bonding with horses, for instance, while the pages on horse needs, illness and care provide excellent practical information. The book is structured in a way that allows the reader to dip into different sections, and the format is really well suited to the needs of a potentially diverse audience, which includes teenage and younger readers, but also adults. The text throughout is supported by scientific research and studies, and further information on the research can be accessed by scanning the QR code throughout the text. A really well-thought out and useful book.
ILLUSTRATED CHILDREN’S BOOKS Winner
Puddles, Muddles and Cuddles by Trish Nolan/Romont Willy Two brothers of three and six prepare are excited because it’s raining. They put on wellies and coats with hoods, and dash off for a walk in the woods, with Mum following behind. They look for puddles where they can splash around, and get very wet. ‘It’s cold and it’s deep and it’s wet and it’s smashing.’ Then they go home to change and get warm, where they get the cuddles with each other and with Mum. This is a lovely cosy book, rejoicing in the easy pleasure of the simple things of life, which children appreciate so much. It’s written in rhyme, and full of onomatopoeic words like ‘squelching and spurting, sploshing and splodging, plip and plop’. It captures beautifully the sense of fun to be found in walking in the rain and playing in water and mud. The illustrations are bright and colourful, filling the page with the trees and wild life found in the woods. It projects a wonderful sense of the joy of childhood and the cosy comforts of home.
Shortlist Bad Luck Kitty by Lynne Gobioff/Lorenzo Kirkpatrick Kitty is a cat from a pet store, whose owner calls her Bad Luck Kitty because every time she gets adopted, something goes horribly wrong and she is returned to the shop. The disaster is never her fault. In fact she was only trying to do the right thing, but she always gets blamed. Back in the shop one night, when all the other cats are asleep, she sees a witch whizz past on her broomstick. The witch comes back looking sad and they smile at each other through the window, as they are both misunderstood. The witch returns during the day, looking like an ordinary lady, and takes Bad Luck Kitty, who doesn’t want to go because she’s waiting for the witch. Once they’ve left the shop, the witch reveals herself and they go back to her house where they live happily together. It’s a short book with a hopeful message that things turn out well in the end. The bright, colourful illustrations are placed on the page around the text as an integral part of the story. The message of the book is subtle yet powerful, teaching kids about resilience, and the importance of looking at the brighter side of things.
Books are not just for Bedtime by Eleanor Pearson/Angela Perrini This is a book clearly written by a book-lover who wants to encourage small book-lovers to read and find pleasure in books. There are so many scenarios where you can read a book and here they are all illustrated. On a bus, in the garden, in waiting rooms, on the beach. There are plenty of disasters going on around each reader, all illustrated with bright, engaging illustrations, beautifully with all the disasters that can happen. None of these scenarios affect the children doing the reading, who are always tucked up comfortably somewhere, absorbed by the book. There are some nice places to be, like the beach or on a train, and the occasional wizard and pixie makes an appearance, but the message is clear. If you’re absorbed in a book, nothing else matters. The full-page illustrations are as fascinating as the situations, and it ends cosily in bed, which is, of course, the best place for books. This will appeal to any child who enjoys reading. Bossy Daddy by Jack Stratton/Debra Hodgson The story is told from the perspective of a daring, adventurous boy, who terrifies his poor father by constantly putting himself in danger. He climbs high up trees, plays football near the road, leans out of an upstairs window, cycles without a helmet, while his father chases and chastises and tries to protect him. The boy’s interpretation of all this is that his daddy is just being bossy and making unnecessary rules. On every page we have a dreadful mess or another terrifying situation, with the distraught daddy never quite keeping up. There will be many boys and parents who will recognise themselves in this. But all’s well that ends well, as the boy finally recognises that his daddy is making all this fuss because he loves him. There are only a couple of lines of text on each page and all the potential hazards are all illustrated beautifully with lots of lovely details in the pictures that children can spend time examining.
Grump-Grump the Tummabump by Oliver Eade/Beatriz Eade This is a simple story about Grump-Grump, who is always miserable and refuses to help anyone do anything. But when he learns the girl next door won’t invite him to her party because he’s too grumpy, he starts to think and think and think. On each page, the thinking gets bigger and louder, until he finally understands what he has to do. He decides to be kind and helpful, starting with his Mummy. Everyone notices, so he gets an invitation to the party where everyone likes him so much they decide to call him Gump-Gump instead of Grump-Grump. It’s a clear simple lesson, one that will please all parents as well as children, that it’s worth thinking about how you appear to others because this will help you to make friends. The illustrations are clear and simple, reminiscent of the Mr Men characters, and would appeal to very young children.
Sammie and Pumpkin by Alanna Albano/JiaJia Hamner A lovely cheerful book about Janie and her mother as they adopt Sammie, a golden retriever. All goes well, and Sammie settles down very comfortably with lots of nice food and toys. But whenever they go for walks in the park, Sammie, who was trained to be a service dog, refuses to play with the other dogs. This all changes when a tiny orange kitten appears on their doorstep one evening. They take her in and call her Pumpkin. Despite Sammie’s initial hostility, she gradually gets used to the kitten and the book ends happily with Sammie going to the park again and enjoying the company of other dogs. The story has a straightforward message about learning to tolerate others and how to make friends. The illustrations are pleasingly clear and uncluttered. A book for any child who loves animals.
SHORT FICTION Winner I Spit Myself Out by Tracy Fahey A superb collection of literary horror that fills the reader with uncanny and abject imagery. More than that, it makes us feel it in rich visceral ways too. It is full of off-kilter bodies and and out-of-time locations, delivered with a style that fills the reader with disquiet. We’re deep within the minds and bodies of her characters, and close up on the flaking skin and blooming bruises of it all. ‘I’ll be Your Mirror’ is a wonderful piece about an acutely body-conscious woman troubled by how female anatomy signifies in our culture: particularly its impact on relationships, self-esteem, and mental health. We feel the crushing force of patriarchy at the end of the story as the speaker transforms herself into a museum exhibit, subject to the male gaze in perpetuity. A brilliant opening! ‘The Wrong Ones’ explores the dark legacy of abuse, buried both literally and symbolically in an Irish field. Again the body is central - the non-normative female is monsterered by her community, with catastrophic consequences. ‘Becoming’ takes the ageing body as its subject, its speaker tempted into an anti-ageing experiment, the details of which are revealed with the relish of an author who loves her work! Throughout the book Fahey creates unsettling realities, interrogating assumptions and taboos in provocative ways, her prose charged with subversive energy. The stories teem with disquieting moments, creating worlds we recognise until the possible and impossible collide! It is eminently compelling, at least for those with a strong stomach. It’s a beautifully crafted collection.
Shortlist Gull Shit Alley and Other Roads to Hell by Jupiter Jones Crisp, witty writing, with some lovely descriptive details and characters. It’s sparse, but full of the earthly and sensory details that bring a particular location to life. Themes of loss and being lost are set against resurrection and refinding. The atmosphere of the small coastal town and the reader’s gradual revelation of the predicaments of Danny, a troubled young man, work beautifully alongside each other, as the reader is drip-fed information which is drawn with broad but vivid strokes. Danny’s bereavement, his struggles to find a foothold in this down-at-heel town, and his attempts to forge an emotional bond with Gryff, a much more confident older young man, are all conveyed with sensitivity and flair. The fragmented, parred down narrative amplifies our sense of Danny’s entrapment, adding force and poignancy to key scenes, particularly Danny’s struggle to find ways of expressing his despair. I like the references to Dante too - they give the book some allusive substance; in less skilful hands this could be pretentious, but Jones has a light touch (“when you said ‘I'll be your Virgil,’ I thought you meant Virgil off Thunderbirds”). The arson theme is well-worked too, feeding into the broader biblical themes, and giving Danny’s story shape and integration. An eloquent and hauntingly beautiful book.
Little Fortified Stories by Barbara Black Reading this book was like stepping into a dream and the poetry in the writing gets us close to the feeling of what it is to dream too. The stories based in Lisbon are laced with Fado music and more than a whiff of fortified wine. Black clearly has a feel for the culture, and she employs her allusions cleverly: Rego, Horta, Pessoa, etc. I particularly enjoyed ‘Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa’, which captures the sadness of Pessoa’s disengaged life beautifully: the poet known for adopting personas showed the wrong version of himself to the ‘redhead he once loved’, and the final image hints movingly at the shortsightedness of a genius who didn’t always make the best decisions. The Fado prose poems that close the book underscore the author’s love affair with Portugal, offering lyrical, imaginative responses to the national art-form. Many of the ekphrastic stories are also wonderful: ‘Daughter of the North Wind’ for instance has its own weird beauty - a child arrives from nowhere to be cherished and protected by her adoptive parents; she can’t tolerate heat so they move to the frozen north, only to watch in dismay as she embraces an inferno. The ending, which has them dancing a ‘crazy’ tribute dance on Saturday nights, is typically offbeat and intriguing. Fires burn in several stories, from the smouldering cigarette in ‘Fado X’, to the flames that ‘have a way of accelerating childhood’ in ‘Playing with Matches’. Many stories seem to exist on the point of ignition, like the brilliant, ‘Childe Bride’, where lines like ‘Ethylene, Kerosene, the names of lost girls’ contribute to an atmosphere of menace and imminent combustion. These stories are lush, sensory and immersive, but with a touch of the uncanny and hallucinogenic that one expects to find in Pessoa and the other cultural icons mentioned in the pieces.
Magpie and Other Stories by Sarah Hegarty Each story in this collection provides a sense of disquiet and unease throughout, which is carried throughout the collection. It opens impressively with ‘All at Sea’, a compelling take on the theme of survival; like most Hegarty stories it has considerable traction and drive, building toward an inspired final image (in this case a baby’s SOS heartbeat!) I also enjoyed ‘The Ishtar Pin’, a touching tale of cultural heritage, ideological allegiance, and filial responsibility. The Middle East setting is believable, I think, as is her version of Kenya in ‘Looking for Michael’, where a mother seeks to come to terms with the loss of her son. A volunteer medic, she attends to the sick, thinking all the time of Michael; like him she wants to ‘make a difference’ in Africa, but subtle references to colonialism complicate any easy assumptions we might have about her trip. She longs to ask the Kenyans, ‘what do you want from us?’, but we feel she may not appreciate the reply. The book closes on a high with ‘Off The Shelf’, where a disabled shop assistant grows wings, achieving the agency she’s been denied by capitalism and patriarchy. The female flight imagery is well-handled, making for a fun revenge piece. There are dark secrets, violence and love affairs here, all delivered with a rush into vivid locations and well-drawn characters always on the edge of something or approaching some realisation. We feel grounded in terms of setting in each exotic place, but there’s also something about the delivery and the lingering images that climax the pieces that leave a stark, off-kilter feel too.
The Utopia of Us edited by Teika Marija Smits A rather niche anthology of stories inspired by Yevgeny Zamyatin's dystopian novel, We. There are some really well worked and deeply considered pieces in this anthology. They explore the sorts of things readers expect to explore in science fiction narratives, even for readers not familiar with We. I enjoyed Aliya Whiteley’s piece which uses the landscape of We to re-examine the theme of US manifest destiny. Adrian Tchaikovsky’s piece also works well - he explores issues of time and identity, with his speaker’s spare seconds spent compiling complaints about efficiency; he’s tempted into a dialogue which compromises his own efficiency, and, amusingly, finds himself replaced for inefficiency. Anna Orridge’s tale is also thought-provoking, addressing the subversive potential of food (particularly ‘the flesh the savages used to feast upon’). In a world where enjoyment is discouraged, eating, and the preparation and presentation of food takes on a philosophical dimension that I hadn’t previously considered. Some stories might be difficult to make sense of without knowledge of ‘We’, but nevertheless, this is a pleasing and thoughtful collection, offering some inventive and intelligent writing. It highlights much of what is under-considered in our contemporary worlds with the ever reaching and shifting tentacles of AI, globalisation, neo-liberal agendas etc.
Universally Adored & Other Dollar Stories by Elizabeth Bruce These are stories exploring the theme of money in America, particularly the sense in which it determines lives and underpins relationships. ‘Universally Adored’, is a reflection on art versus practicality, and capitalism's triumph over Fran's idealism feels appropriate. Dollars have liberating potential for the protagonist in ‘Bald Tires’, who saves them in a tin, but we see that money, or the lack of it, is also to blame for her domestic snare, and we wonder if freedom is ever really possible for her, or any character in these stories. Where the road is the great symbol of freedom in American culture, its limits are exposed in the excellent story, ‘Exact Change’, where crime seems an inevitability for those who can’t afford life’s toll barriers. The dollar is fundamental to all these stories - it’s symbolic of Randy's impotence in ‘Little Jimmy’, whose wife leaves him with one dollar; the subject of prayer in ‘Grocery List’, and so on. Of course some seem to manage effortlessly in capitalist America, as with Gillian's mother in the excellent story, ‘Airport Caddy’: Gillian can't quite fathom how her mother handled life with such aplomb, and when an airport caddy appears to assist Gillian on the way to her mother's funeral, this ‘gift from beyond the grave’ merely underscores her daughter’s inadequacy. The theme is relevant in most pieces, and the voice is usually lively and entertaining. There are lots of really interesting and well thought out ideas and stories here, many of which are pertinent to the era in which we find ourselves.
POETRY Winner Love Haunts in Shades of Blue by Yvonne Baker A lyrical and sensitive exploration of the ways in which the past impacts on the present. Good poetry is about giving us new ways of seeing, being and saying that are explored through the clashes and connections of different things – and that seems to be the key ingredient here. Past and Present. Inner and outer. Understanding and ignorance. Selfhood and otherness. She introduces this theme in the gorgeous opening poem, ‘Time Travel’, where the distance between past and present collapses, and the current ‘moment’ is ‘created from the same atoms/that shaped the stars’. Yet the past, while ever present, is hard to read: it ‘folds love into a drawer,/not knowing if it will be forgotten’. The past is both inescapable and elusive, partly because we struggle to understand and record the complexities of the present; indeed the speaker can't even trust her own account: she writes ‘this poem into the future’, but it may turn out to be little more than a ‘dance of fingers in the dark’ or ‘a hand-print/on the wall of a cave's night’. It’s mainly the past that preoccupies Baker, coming under the most intense scrutiny in the final section, ‘Secrets of Time’. Here we find her title poem, where ‘love haunts’ the speaker, and loved ones ‘whisper they are leaving’ in dreams. She really knows how to wield a metaphor and join it up with beautiful and startling imagery. All this, alongside the attention to melody and rhythm, produces wonderfully lyrical poetry. Furthermore, the individual poems in this collection not only talk to each other, but encourage the reader to reread and reconsider – just what a full collection should do. It’s graceful and precise.
Shortlist Enigma Machine by Alicia Stubbersfield A very strong collection, often about friends, family and failed communication. At face value, they’re simple little observations of things and moments, but the arrangement on the page, the attention to sound, image and metaphor (and the way these play together) opens the reader to the moral and emotional complexities. While much is viewed through the lens of childhood, it’s informed by a mature perspective and a powerful intellect. It opens with the excellent ‘Cartography’, a vivid recollection of early life where images of security are offset by danger. It captures the double-edged experience of childhood beautifully: an exciting world of adventure, tinged with troubling uncertainties and an indefinable threat. ‘Calling Time at The Bull’s Head’ deals with darkness of a different kind - the demise of her grandfather in the pub where he drank himself to death; she ‘was never told the full story’ as a child, but now can reflect on it and wonder if he lived better than his wife who stayed at home, ‘to gulp her humiliation with bicarb’. Throughout she probes such moral and emotional complexities with detachment, and a willingness to accept the absence of easy answers, particularly when it comes to relationships with those we’re supposed to love, like mothers. There’s a sense that these were real stories being told, but also a hint that they were a version of a more complex set of tales too, and part of what she’s playing with in these poems is how stories come about, shift and get past on. A wonderful book.
In a Tension of Leaves and Binding by Renée M. Sgroi Much of the relationship between humanity and the natural world is expressed through our relationship with gardens: it’s where nature is framed for us, and Sgroi’s project here is to reflect on this at the deepest level her imagination allows. Many poems strive to give her garden a voice, as in the lovely opening piece, “A mother of plants”: ‘her voice like a watermelon//seed we were afraid would grow and stick/in our tummies’; in this poem as elsewhere she collapses the boundaries between human and garden; the reader becomes ‘her answer and her unknown chorus listening’. The natural world is something that takes root in us, she suggests, and we give it meaning and value via our engagement with it. There are several movements happening in the poems simultaneously: a visceral earthly thread; the voice of an ecologist or a horticulturalist; and, something holy too. There’s almost a joke at the heart of it, one about being a pilgrim whilst staying still – and that produces amazing results of witnessing wild and beautiful things as if one were moving through them, but as we (the voice and the reader) observe in still prayer, we’re opened to a mindscape as much as a landscape. She demonstrates beautifully a deft attention to different ways of writing, different forms and different conjugations of voice, style, image and vernacular.
It Was Never About the Kingfisher by Helen Kay A slim volume that covers a broad emotional spectrum with well visualised scenes, relatable imagery, and edgy ambivalence. There are different lenses and focuses in each poem, but the collection feels like a well wrought movement too. Family being the focus, and delivered with some skriking imagery and clever natural figurative devices. In ‘Scrabble’, the speaker bonds with her father over a boardgame while her mother remains alone in another room, unwilling or unable to engage. It conveys an entire childhood with succinct and heartbreaking eloquence. In ‘Stomach’, the relationship between mother and daughter takes an even darker turn as the former is reduced to the pronoun ‘it’, consigned to ‘a home’. Darkness also undermines a fondly remembered day in ‘With My Mother in the Garden’: the wasp imagery here is subtly ambivalent, qualifying an idyllic scene with threat - we sense that happiness is transient. While tensions are often unresolved, the poems have a more positive feel in the second section of the book, and it finishes on an optimistic note with the brilliant title poem - late in life the speaker finally sees a kingfisher after years of making do with photographs; while the vision is blurred by a cataract, she concludes that she doesn’t ‘need detail’ - ‘The thrill is that new things still do happen’. We get this all with a wry sense of humour. It makes the common peculiar and fresh. This is very impressive writing.
Love Haunts in Shades of Blue by Yvonne Baker A lyrical and sensitive exploration of the ways in which the past impacts on the present. Good poetry is about giving us new ways of seeing, being and saying that are explored through the clashes and connections of different things – and that seems to be the key ingredient here. Past and Present. Inner and outer. Understanding and ignorance. Selfhood and otherness. She introduces this theme in the gorgeous opening poem, ‘Time Travel’, where the distance between past and present collapses, and the current ‘moment’ is ‘created from the same atoms/that shaped the stars’. Yet the past, while ever present, is hard to read: it ‘folds love into a drawer,/not knowing if it will be forgotten’. The past is both inescapable and elusive, partly because we struggle to understand and record the complexities of the present; indeed the speaker can't even trust her own account: she writes ‘this poem into the future’, but it may turn out to be little more than a ‘dance of fingers in the dark’ or ‘a hand-print/on the wall of a cave's night’. It’s mainly the past that preoccupies Baker, coming under the most intense scrutiny in the final section, ‘Secrets of Time’. Here we find her title poem, where ‘love haunts’ the speaker, and loved ones ‘whisper they are leaving’ in dreams. She really knows how to wield a metaphor and join it up with beautiful and startling imagery. All this, alongside the attention to melody and rhythm, produces wonderfully lyrical poetry. Furthermore, the individual poems in this collection not only talk to each other, but encourage the reader to reread and reconsider – just what a full collection should do. It’s graceful and precise.
Navigation by Linda Neal Reising A fluent and frequently engaging collection. There’s beautiful musicality to these poems that feel like they’re finding their way, as much as the speaker in the poem is – searching, wandering, wondering. Reising explores the human experience with an impressive level of emotional intelligence in section one, setting the standard high in the opening poem, ‘After Learning That a Woman and Her Baby Were Killed’. It's a wonderful piece that pits nature's cruelty against spiritual optimism. The natural world is a source of religious inspiration throughout this section, as in ‘From a Kitchen Window’, where the speaker finds ‘tender mercies’ and a ‘promise of resurrection’ in the natural world; the poems are strong, well-crafted, with some very pleasing images - ‘cattails’ exhaling ‘cotton breaths’ in ‘Soon’, for instance, and ‘a line of twilight lament’ in ‘Autumn’. The references to American culture in the second section, which is heavy with engaging nostalgia are also enjoyable. The mix of social and peopled poems with the more earthy and geological was pleasing and really helped anchor the poems to particular places and an aesthetic. Despite not finding our way thoroughly and accurately, there is still hope of the harbour in this collection, and that almost-conclusion is very satisfying.
White Doe by Maria Williams There’s a lot to enjoy and appreciate here. The opening poem is particularly engaging, where the central image of the doe takes on multiple relevant meanings: she gives the image space to develop - it’s reinforced by strong repetition, without losing subtlety. We feel the force of her despair as her father looks through her ‘the way you look through/snow’ - the image is simultaneously beguiling and terrifying. In poems like ‘My Father as Bird’, ‘My Father as Coyote’, and ‘Squall’, she uses natural imagery beautifully - birds, coyotes and snow gain weight and significance through repetition - we feel their force particularly in ‘Snow’ where they’re among the fragments that scatter the page, and our sense of a disintegrating mind - we all fear, but are all destined to become, ‘the way snow is’. The natural imagery acts as a sort of villanelle-esque refrain, both in its haunting quality but also in the spiralling effect it has on the reading – slightly changing its meaning and idea each time. It’s important that shapeshifting trickster figures like the coyote, birds and weather feature in this way – a clever move and one that links the collections to the great traditions of oral cultures where poetry first found its footing. Shapeshifting, although not explicit, features in the other themes too – dementia of course, but also sense of self, place in family and culture, language as they shift in the present and around us. All of this culminates in the way these poems are shaped too – slight, attending to gaps, pauses and white space – very clever.
CHILDREN'S AND YA Winner
Juice by Peter Deadman This an engaging, eco-themed coming-of-age novel, set after the so-called Devastation, where electricity (juice) is feared and largely unavailable. Isolated communities eke out a tranditional living in a post-industrial landscape. The world-building here is excellent, very convincing, and the main character, Will, is both appealing and complex. His discontent is swiftly established, and the book soon introduces fresh layers of conflict, creating a strong, dynamic narrative as he leaves his closed community and goes in search of his father. In the tradition of such stories, Will must test himself in various contexts: conflict at the dynamo factory and the circus, his acquisition of life-skills, and his relationship with Leonie, who is a strong character in her own right. It explores some interesting issues about community and morality, particularly the corrupting potential of ideology and power. Bailey's identity offers a nice twist in the closing pages, creating a tense ending and a dilemma for Will. It’s an entertaining book and the ending is very satisfying. This is an original, really engaging and thought-provoking read. There’s a touch of CliFi, which marks it out as different to the usual dystopian YA narratives, and it's nice to see a writer handle that carefully but make it stand out too. The world created here is strange but knowable, full of richness of colour and sensory detail. It’s a real page-turner.
Shortlist Balance by Kit White A character driven YA novel written with depth and muscle. It’s about a young offender, Lawrence, serving two years for GBH in HMYOI Hendbrook. We don't know the full details of his crime, except that his older sister, Harrie, is responsible for betraying him to the police. The plot partly hangs on the mystery surrounding her motivation, with Lawrence’s daily struggles inside adding considerable tension and momentum. He encounters all the problems we'd expect: bullying, frustrations with authority, etc, but there's much to make life tolerable, like Lewis's friendship, Leslie's flamboyant joie de vivre, and the successes he chalks-up against the system as his sentence slowly ticks away. When Lawrence discovers his father's adultery, he becomes disillusioned with the adult world: ‘That’s when it hit me. I didn’t know my dad. I’d liked him, genuinely. Up front I thought he was a nice guy.’ His struggle to situate himself ethically in a world where values are constantly under threat has much resonance. The titular reference to ‘balance’ refers partly to the vicissitudes that impact on life, shaping fortunes and character for better or worse. One example is the hapless Walter, who turns from victim to aggressive bully when circumstances change and the balance shifts (‘you tip one way or other on those scales man’). Ultimately he must find the strength to forgive Harrie, and the book ends optimistically.
Juice by Peter Deadman This an engaging, eco-themed coming-of-age novel, set after the so-called Devastation, where electricity (juice) is feared and largely unavailable. Isolated communities eke out a tranditional living in a post-industrial landscape. The world-building here is excellent, very convincing, and the main character, Will, is both appealing and complex. His discontent is swiftly established, and the book soon introduces fresh layers of conflict, creating a strong, dynamic narrative as he leaves his closed community and goes in search of his father. In the tradition of such stories, Will must test himself in various contexts: conflict at the dynamo factory and the circus, his acquisition of life-skills, and his relationship with Leonie, who is a strong character in her own right. It explores some interesting issues about community and morality, particularly the corrupting potential of ideology and power. Bailey's identity offers a nice twist in the closing pages, creating a tense ending and a dilemma for Will. It’s an entertaining book and the ending is very satisfying. This is an original, really engaging and thought-provoking read. There’s a touch of CliFi, which marks it out as different to the usual dystopian YA narratives, and its nice to see a writer handle that carefully but make it stand out too. The world created here is strange but knowable, full of richness of colour and sensory detail. It’s a real page-turner.
Lilly by L. B. TillitMaa Ghut by Barry Litherland Mission: Find Mum by Jo Somerset This is the sixth book in ‘The Way I See It’ series about the the difficulties that teens face at Hancock High (an imaginary American high school. The books are written in an accessible way for young people who might have a lower reading ability, using simple language, but enjoy stories and reading. It doesn’t shy away from the more challenging dilemmas faced by some young people today. For Lily, the challenges are extreme: abuse, bereavement, homelessness, rough sleeping. She’s recently lost her parents and grandmother, and although she has a home with her aunt, the violence of her aunt’s boyfriend means she no longer feels safe living there. The novel deals with her struggles to find a safe place to sleep and the daily battle she has with issues that most children don’t have to consider: how to wash her clothes, how to keep clean, where is her next meal coming from, alongside the regular challenges of school and friendships. This series of books is a valuable project. The writer acknowledges the problems facing young people and offers a sympathetic viewpoint. And they also build empathy and compassion in those fortunate enough to have never had to overcome the kind of hardship that Lily faces.
Maa Ghut by Barry Litherland A very imaginative attempt to address the consequences of disaster capitalism. Fantasy and realism merge in this text and the complex themes are ambitious: prejudice and discrimination, ecological crisis and excess consumerism, coming of age, bravery, political extremism and its threat to democracy. The idea of having multiple incarnations of characters existing across versions of reality is brave, and the author exploits the dramatic potential of this well, demonstrating that the same problems and prejudices exist in both worlds, although perhaps more overtly in the alternative world. The exact nature of the threat facing humanity in the form of a ‘broiling fog’ which seems to be symbolic, is only revealed at the end, but creates considerable tension throughout. There are some nice touches - the character Reb King, for instance, with his corny dress sense (he makes a good point about fashion fascism at one stage), and there's a pleasing atmosphere of strangeness and menace, enhanced particularly by Grayling’s creepy monologues. This is an interesting novel, full of ideas and uncertainty, which leave a sense of unease and a suggestion that there might be more to come.
Mission: Find Mum by Jo Somerset Isla comes home from school one day and expecting to find her mum there as always. But as time passes, it become more and more obvious that her mum is not coming back. Then her uncle and aunt bring her little brother, Lac, home and tell Isla that she and her brother can’t come and stay with them as arranged with their mum, because her uncle is about to have an operation. Isla doesn’t know what to do. Her mum doesn’t answer her phone. Eventually, after a few days of pretending all is well, but gradually realising she can’t keep it going for much longer, she discovers from her mother’s computer that her mum has bought a ticket to Mora, a Scottish island. Isla makes a decision to retrace their mother’s steps, taking Lac with her. The journey is fraught with danger as they try to avoid all adults with their intrusive questions. It’s a long way, a train journey to Scotland, and then the ferry. They eventually set up camp on the beach, only to have the tent destroyed in a storm. Isla perceives the people on Mora as hostile, and some are, so she struggles to know who she can trust. There are some clever twists before the situation is finally resolved with a satisfying conclusion. It’s an excellent, convincing story with considerable tension and plenty of unpredictable turns. Isla’s character is well-developed as she summons the resourcefulness to undertake and survive such a difficult mission. A compulsive read.
Naturally Nic/k by Kathryn Rossati This is a time-slip novel with a difference, bringing in themes of neurodivergence and magic, which make it fresh and original. Alternating chapters give us the viewpoint of Nic, a girl from our time, and Nicolai, whose father is a magician who makes his money from performing magic tricks in the fair in the Thames Tunnel, a popular venue in Victorian London. Nic is very interested in magic and enjoys practising her own tricks. She finds school difficult and is a regular target of bullies, so when her best friend gives her an old diary as a present, she is delighted with the descriptions of new tricks inside. When the school takes a trip to the Thames tunnel, something strange happens and she finds transported back in time. This is where she meets Nicolai, who turns out to be the writer of the diary. Large numbers of children are disappearing from the streets of London, so they join forces to find out what’s going on. Their capture and escape and confrontation with the villain lead to a thrilling climax. Nic returns to her own time with a renewed confidence, and there’s a pleasingly touching end to the novel. The atmosphere of the Thames tunnel and the squalor of the way of life are beautifully evoked and the growing friendship between the two children is very satisfying. The use of magic and illusion throughout helps to make this an original and enjoyable historical adventure.