Book review – Tyson Yunkaporta – “Sand Talk”

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Another Emma and Liz Reads finished (If you want to see them all, click here.) I bought this one for myself from The Heath Bookshop then managed to get a copy for Emma (it was a bit hard to pin down!); my copy was acquired in July 2023 (Emma and Liz books didn’t count in my 2024 TBR project as they occupy a special pile of their own, we don’t read them in order and it takes us a while to get through each book, a chapter or so at a time once a week), and I am pleased to say I have now read and reviewed all 12 print books I acquired that month.

Tyson Yunkaporta – “Sand Talk: How Indigenous Thinking Can Save the World”

(07 July 2023, The Heath Bookshop)

Perhaps we need to revisit the brilliant thought paths of our Palaeolithic Ancestors and recover enough cognitive function to correct the impossible messes civilisation has created, before the echidnas decide to sack us all and take over as the custodial species of this planet. (p. 3)

Regular readers will know I’ve been taking an interest in books by Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander writers for a while now, and have built up a small collection with some read and reviewed and some to come. Emma was newer to Indigenous reading so I was glad she branched out to try this one, which turned out to be full of quite chewy philosophical and scientific musings, but we coped OK and both really enjoyed it. Each chapter takes a traditional image drawn on the ground, or here, carved into a boomerang or other object, and discusses that image and the Indigenous knowledges and practices it represents. There is no formal table of contents at the front of the book, but a visual one resembling a turtle shell with all the images incorporated. He also usefully defines an Indigenous person as “a member of a community retaining memories of life lived sustainably on a land-base, as part of that land-base” (p. 42) and then he “yarns” with different people in many chapters to help himself and us to understand the topic he’s discussing – including two Sami women from Northern Europe.

Yunkaporta is keen for his readers to know that a lot of what we term modern, western science was discovered by Aboriginal peoples hundreds of thousands of years ago, and other knowledges are less familiar to western readers but profound in their meaning and use – especially all the points about families, ancestors, and people and Country being linked in circular and spiralling ways. We both admitted to getting a bit lost when we got into links between, for example, quantum theory and Aboriginal thought processes and practices, but Yunkaporta is also reassuring in his writing, telling us that he has travelled and learned but doesn’t know everything and certainly doesn’t think of himself as some kind of role model, He’s also very clear that we can’t pick and choose Indigenous practices to use for quick solutions, but we must try to see the deep patterns, concentrating on processes not content and avoiding “token inclusion of cultural clippings” (p. 114). There’s lots more interesting stuff in this book, including on gendered practices but the gender continuum and about colonial practices around the world. that would make this review too long if I discussed them.

The final chapters included a “deep visualisation” where we were to imagine ourselves and a loved one on our land, whatever that might involve, and while we’re both more separated from nature and our land than Yunkaporta is, we both found the chapter very moving and profound. The final requirement is to “Respect, Connect, Reflect, Direct – in that order. Everything in creation is sentient and carries knowledge, therefore everything is deserving of our respect” (p. 275) and I think everyone can understand that at one level.

We finished reading this last night and Em and I both said we were glad we had read it and proud of ourselves for reading it, if not always understanding, but that Yunkaporta was a kind guide, often pointing out that it’s OK to get a bit lost and not understand everything as long as you come to it with humility and give it a go. I certainly appreciated reading the book slowly, one chapter at a time, and having someone to talk to about it, and it was significantly different enough from other books by such authors that I didn’t have any advantage in understanding.

Just to recap for anyone new to the blog: my best friend and I sit down in our respective homes in London and Birmingham at the same time (usually on a Thursday after dinner) and read the same bit of the same book, while chatting about it on Messenger. We started in lockdown and decided to carry on. We always make sure we have several to go on our special TBR piles, which you can see on my State of the TBR posts, and are always adding more to the possibles list!

Our next book is Patrick Barkham’s “The Butterfly Isles”, which should make an interesting comparison with the Danish butterfly book I just read.

Book review – Debra Dank – “We Come With This Place” #20BOS26

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Photo of paperback of We Come With This Place taken in Stratford Upon Avon

I have managed to read Book 7 in my 20 Books of Summer 2026! After the excitement of finishing my 2024 TBR Project with Books 5 and 6, we jump forward a month, with this one being acquired in February 2024, using a voucher for The Heath Bookshop I won in a raffle (I think fundraising for one of my running friends to do the London Marathon). Out of the 12 print books I acquired in February 2024 (and look at the TBR shelves then: terrible!), I have now read and reviewed nine, and the other three are on my 20 Books of Summer pile, too.

Debra Dank – “We Come With This Place”

(9 February 2024, The Heath Bookshop)

There was a silence now that wrapped around the landscape, getting everything ready for sleep. Cattle occasionally stamped and bellowed, and there was the sporadic metallic moan of the old windmill, several kilometres away, but these noises didn’t sit in this country; they sat on top. We listened carefully and, through the strange new noises that didn’t have a story here, we heard the quietness of the old stories drawing nearer. Night was coming and it was time to sit with that silence and move closer to the fire. (p. 28)

My photograph shows me and this book in a fairly “old” place in the UK – Anne Hathaway’s Cottage in Stratford-upon-Avon – which is around 560 years old. Australia was first colonised by White settlers about 240 years ago. Aboriginal people have been on that land for hundreds of thousands of years. This stunning book shares Dank’s personal and family history in the Gudanji Country where she belongs, hopping backwards and forwards through their lives and drawing powerful parallels, sometimes celebratory, often full of pain and horror, sometimes tinged with kindness from those who her family didn’t expect kindness from. It’s always clear where we are, with Dank accompanying us through and reminding us who everyone is. I’ve read a few Aboriginal Australian (and Torres Strait Islanders to come) books recently and before, and I can see how the language and structure here differs from the more direct work of Stan Grant, Tyson Yunkaporta (still reading with Emma) and Anita Heiss, more complex in some ways and descriptive and going back more generations, but I can see how important it is to read a range of writings which fill in each other’s gaps.

Here we see very detailed descriptions of life in the country, moving from job to job as Dank’s father changes positions and the tensions between her father and mother. We also see how radical and strange it is when a White employer family bonds with Dank’s family, her mum teaching all the kids, her dad with a White assistant, and the very strangeness of it really hits home the message that this is not how most Aboriginal people were treated or White people behaved (are treated / behave). This is underlined when she discusses the workers on a previous property:

They could often be heard discussing how their families had been on their properties for three and somethimes four generations and they wore that history with real pride. They never bothered to imagine how it might feel being on country for thousands of generations. Their claims were made according to the monuments that had been erected on that land and had totally ignored and brushed aside the hospitality offered by country. Or perhaps the hospitality was invisible, just as the stories told in other voices were too quiet. (p. 64)

Even when the bosses are good, even though the “threat of having children had removed had mostly gone by that stage” (p. 69), there’s still an underlying current of insecurity and worry in the family’s lives. The kindness of Mrs Corbett, described above, is credited with changing Dank’s thinking, and still does, and she shares her gratitude for it. Like the other books I’ve been reading, there is an immense amount of generosity, decency and understanding where really there need not be, given the way Aboriginal Australians and Torres Strait Islanders have been treated. This is of course mixed with immense pride in their own thousands of generations of belonging and history, with Dank’s daughters and son getting tattoos to commemorate their Gudanji heritage (where their grandmother wore the older form of scarring on her body.

A wonderful book full of information, history, quiet pride in ways of being that go back so far, and hope that there will be more understanding in the future. I really want to get hold of Dank’s new book, “Ankami”, in which she does more archival research and finds out some horrible truths about her father’s generation, although if I want a paperback I’ll have to include it in my next Readings order.

In a good bit of Bookish Beck Serendipity, this book and “The Butterfly Season” both feature people learning to really look and see what they couldn’t sea before: Dank’s partner who can see features of the waves when surfing but not things in the inner land, and Lea Korsgaard who can suddenly perceive minute details of a previously boring looking meadow.

This was Book 7 for 20 Books of Summer 2026.

Two books about nature and renewal – Maceo Carillo Martinet – “Healing the Land Teaches us Who We Are” and Lea Korsgaard – “The Butterfly Season”

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Two of my remaining June publications from NetGalley today (I’m hoping that I will rescue myself in August, when I have fewer NG books published and I might catch up!), both looking at nature and its loss and renewal from different perspectives, Indigenous through the world and Danish in Denmark. It’s amazing the range of books you can procure from NetGalley, I have to say.

Maceo Carrillo Martinet – “Healing the Land Teaches us Who We Are: How Indigenous Cultural Resistance Can Restore the Earth, Recover Community, and Create Sustainable Futures”

(25 January 2026, NetGalley)

Cities are made of mosaics of languages and memories, just like the mosaics of habitat created by water, fire, and people’s democratic forms of land management. The linguistic geography of the city is another form of the cultural commons, although it is discussed less often than those for land and water.

Martinet works in land restoration and the book begins with a restoration project around the Rio Grande river in New Mexico, USA. While other NG reviewers have found this a bit too academic, I appreciated the balance between background references and accounts of ongoing projects and teams around the world. The book is divided by the elements into Water, Earth, Fire and Air, looking at ways that Indigenous peoples have traditionally harvested and cared for water through terracing systems, etc., enriched the earth through communal and community-based democractic land management and used careful burning systems to grow gardens and crops and care for the land (Air turns out to mean language, rather than wind, which works well but does differentiate it from the other parts). While these were forgotten/suppressed over the ages, some places have returned to using that ancient knowledge and others irritatingly have new practices which are the old ones rebranded by modern governments.

Martinet uses a mixture of research studies, reports on his own work and investigations and case studies from around Indigenous people’s lands (mainly in the Americas but also around the rest of the world) to cover these areas comprehensively and interestingly. It covers rural and urban areas, too and links cultural and environmental diversity in interesting ways (see the quotation at the top for more on that).

I think he gets a good balance of sharing Indigenous knowledges in a clear way which will be attractive to the non-Indigenous readers who need this information as well as, hopefully, Indigenous thinkers and activists who are still working with these systems.

Thank you to North Atlantic Books for approving my request to read this book on NetGalley in return for an honest review. “Healing the Land Teaches us Who We Are” was published on 9 June 2026.

Lea Korsgaard – “The Butterfly Season: On Beginnings, Endings, and the Life in Between” (17 March 2026, NetGalley)

We had given up our faith in a beautiful, just and peaceful ending, and it manifested in culture as resignation and restless hedonism. Our goal had disappeared and, now that there was no longer anything to strive toward, striving itself became the goal. As humans, we used to dream of eternal life; now we dreamed of eternal growth.

Korsgaard makes the decision, a few years after first having the idea, to try to see all the butterflies in Denmark in one single season. Of course, the book can’t just be about that, and as well as her family life with her husband and three young sons and her trips out, also once with her mother, to see the butterflies and meet various other enthusiasts far more skilled than her, she also investigates the cultural and natural history of the butterfly, with chunks of philosophy, reflections on her grandfather’s equating of nature with God and swathes of horror as she realises the habitat and species loss that has happened over the past century. She also has wry moments and at least one moment of cosmic wonder at the linkedness of everything.

It might seem a bit of a sad book but there is beauty and connection, and there are some success stories of habitat restoration. Does she see all the butterflies of Denmark in one season? And is she satisfied with the result? The book is illustrated with black and white watercolours of the butterflies and there’s a comprehensive reading list. It was an interesting and quite moving read.

Thank you to Penguin / Particular Books for offering me this book via NetGalley Read Now in return for an honest review. “The Butterfly Season” was published on 11 June 2026.

Book review – Sue Moorcroft – “Secrets of the Italian Guesthouse”

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I don’t take on an enormous number of blog tours but I couldn’t resist this one, as it’s set in the town of Como on Lake Como, somewhere I’ve actually visited! The premise was intriguing as well, so I went for it. Thank you to Rachel’s Random Resources for offering and supplying a copy via NetGalley! See below for the fab full blog tour, links and a chance to win a copy!

Sue Moorcroft – “Secrets of the Italian Guesthouse”

(21 May 2026, Rachel’s Random Resources / NetGalley)

Jade has grown up living with her grandparents, first running a bigger hotel then, when her grandad passed away, the Pensione Three Sisters with her gran. Gran is Scottish, Grandad was Italian, and they had best friends in the town with the same nationalities, their son Leo growing up with Jade. Dad went away soon after she was born, and mum left her in the hands of her dad’s parents, so it’s just them and her, and now Jade’s faithful employees.

But why is the Pensione called the Three Sisters when there’s only one of Jade? Cue her gran’s passing and the horrible realisation that her absentee dad had two further daughters, one who he actually stayed around and raised … and because of Italian law, they’re going to be more involved in the pensione than Jade would ever want.

Meanwhile, Leo’s back in town: he followed his ambitions to England years ago, ending their young love by assuming Jade wanted that, too. Now he’s older, wiser, and bruised by his own encounter with the hotel business: there’s still a spark, isn’t there?

Will Jade reconcile with these two very different women who turn up out of the blue but are related? Will Leo settle back down in Italy and will they ignore the spark between them?

This lovely novel was as much about the family and the guesthouse as it is about the romance, although that is there, and steamy in a couple of places. Leo’s a lovely character, just really kind and thoughtful, and the side characters are nicely done with a brilliant sense of place: you can just imagine being in Como. I’m glad this appears to be the first in a trilogy, with more presumably about Erin and Rosalie next time.

Purchase Link –  https://geni.us/ItalianGuesthouse

Author Bio – Sue Moorcroft is a Sunday Times bestselling author. Her novels have reached #1 on Kindle UK and Top 100 on Kindle US, Canada, Germany and Italy. She’s won the Goldsboro Books Contemporary Novel of the Year, Readers’ Best Romantic Novel award, two HOLT Medallions and the Katie Fforde Bursary. She’s the president of the Romantic Novelists’ Association.

Her novels, short stories, serials, columns, writing ‘how to’ and courses have appeared around the world.

Social Media Links –

Amazon page: Sue Moorcroft

Audible page: Sue Moorcroft

Website: www.suemoorcroft.com

Facebook author page SueMoorcroftAuthor

Instagram: @SueMoorcroftAuthor

Linked in: Sue Moorcroft

Link Tree: linktr.ee/SueMoorcroft

Bookbub: SueMoorcroft1

Giveaway to Win a signed copy of Secrets of the Italian Guesthouse and a Sue Moorcroft pen (Open to UK Only)

*Terms and Conditions – UK entries welcome.  Please enter using the Gleam box below.  The winner will be selected at random via Gleam from all valid entries and will be notified by Twitter and/or email. If no response is received within 7 days then Rachel’s Random Resources reserves the right to select an alternative winner. Open to all entrants aged 18 or over.  Any personal data given as part of the competition entry is used for this purpose only and will not be shared with third parties, with the exception of the winners’ information. This will passed to the giveaway organiser and used only for fulfilment of the prize, after which time Rachel’s Random Resources will delete the data.  I am not responsible for despatch or delivery of the prize.

Win a signed copy of Secrets of the Italian Guesthouse and Sue Moorcroft pen (UK Only)

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Two 20 Books of Summer reads that have nothing in common – Scott Jurek, with Jenny Jurek – “North” and Madeline Linford – “Out of the Window”

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I have to admit that Books 5 and 6 in my 20 Books of Summer 2026 have nothing in common (well, they’re both about marriages, I suppose) but I wanted to get my reviews posted and not feel like I was falling behind (full list with links for this year and previous years here). Also, very excitingly, they complete my 2024 TBR project, as they were the two oldest books on my TBR, finally! I received both of these books for Christmas in 2023: “North” was a BookCrossing Not So Secret Santa gift from Julia and “Out of the Window” was from Ali. Of the 18 print books acquired that month (as seen in my interim and Christmas posts), I have now read and reviewed or passed on all 18!

Scott Jurek, with Jenny Jurek – “North”

(20 December 2023, gift)

I didn’t know what was next, and that was okay. That was more than okay. With each step, I felt as if I were being pulled forward. The reason for the journey would come into clear focus, then blur, then sharpen again many times in the coming weeks. But my direction would never waver. After so many years of running, of winning, and then going nowhere fast, I was headed somewhere. For the first time in a while, I had a direction. North. (p. 38)

Scott Jurek is a famous ultramarathoner, but at the start of this book he is trekking through a desert with his wife, Jenny, wondering what’s next as he hits his 40s. The answer, to his ennui and their struggles with ectopic pregnancy and a miscarriage for Jenny, is to attempt a Fastest Known Time on the Appalachian Trail, going northwards (not the most common direction for getting a record), Jenny supporting in a hastily fitted out van, with various ultrarunning buddies joining them on the way. They share the writing, with Jenny starting the Prologue on Day 7 (“Where is he?”), which gives a great and nuanced view of the project, as the support team aren’t always explained and given space in books like this.

Of course, their marriage comes into it. Jenny describes their differences: she’s bad at cooking but relaxed where Scott loves cooking and precision; she was a runner before they met and goes climbing with friends. Jenny is really honest about how things felt sketchy at times when she was parked in remote car parks, waiting for Scott, and how people idolising him could push her out of the way or demand too much of her. Have we noticed that it was her parts of the narrative that I really loved? He’s also very honest, though, talking about how his growing perspective as he’s aged has meant he has lost the pure drive for speed and become slower.

Just a great book, full of community and companionship and an excellent journey. Oh, and there’s good family news at the end.

Madeline Linford – “Out of the Window”

(25 December 2023, gift)

‘There’s only one thing. It’s so difficult to explain. You know, there ought to be some other solution for girls in love. It isn’t fair that they should be tied all their lives and have children, just because they once felt passionate about some man and were blind to everything else. The marriage service should be postponed until they had lived together for a while and the glamorous side of it had got less interesting.’

‘As a virtuous spinster and a member of the Church of England, I think I ought to refuse to listen to you,’ said Miss Fielding. ‘Besides, your theories, though startling, are by no means new. I seem to have seen them expressed with more of less force in every novel that your mother gets from the library.’ (p. 251)

This was a Persephone Book that could easily have been a British Library Women Writers book with its theme of marrying in haste and repenting at leisure. It’s quite astounding to think that just 100 years ago, as heroine Ursula puts it above, if you had a physical attraction to someone, really, you had to marry them, in which case you were likely to find out you had little in common and then had to stick with them for years. Of course some people did try out living together, but very few, and you have to feel for poor Ursula, who blithely thinks that marrying a working man who lives humbly with his mother and can only aspire to a small, cheaply built house on a modern estate, is going to be easy to live with when you are a doctor’s daughter who has never had to pay a bill or cook properly. She has been on a cookery course and helped out weighing local women’s babies, but she’s totally unsuited for a life of toil and of course begins to hate it, just as her Kenneth, “beautiful” as he is, and fuelled by his mother’s resentment, begins to resent her woeful cooking and inability to keep house successfully.

Ursula belatedly realises she should probably have settled for posh, older Charles, who she sees as a brother but has more in common with (and we do feel sorry for Charles), but at the end, there are some roses from him which might offer hope for both of them. I also loved her spinster aunt, Agnes, who seems bitter but is actually horribly clear-sighted right from the beginning, but also provides useful support and presents. How is this marriage gone sour going to resolve? Well, the author brings in a pregnancy and then a plot point which is a bit convenient, but probably necessary – I won’t share what that is.

An interesting look, though, at a time when freedoms were coming for some women, in London; not so much for provincial women on the outskirts of Manchester.

These were Books 5 & 6 for 20 Books of Summer 2026.

State of the TBR – July 2026

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I have been very restrained in purchases and have read a fair bit, so I have even more a gap at the end, so I’m finally going in the right direction (you can compare the shelf to last month here).

My plan for this last month was to read 25 new books, finish five and continue two, so no, I didn’t manage that, but I gave it a good shot and did move the shelves along!

I took and finished seven print book off the main shelf in June and am in the middle of two more. I also finished my lingering Penguin Modern Classics book and read the three review books I had to cover (reviewed one, the other two still to send to Shiny New Books) and “Tonight the Music Seems So Loud” which I was sent by the publisher because I worked on it.

I DID take the six oldest books off the shelf and they all counted for the 2024 TBR project (one or two more to go now!). I read five of my 20 Books of Summer (reviewed four so far) and started the sixth, so failed in my aim to read seven of them but not doing too badly. I didn’t have any reading challenge books to read. I took “A Bright Cold Day” off the TBR to read before it came out in paperback but it came out on 4 June so I’ve missed that.

I finished my remaining two May NetGalley books (I didn’t like “Eat Bitter” as it was too visceral again) and then eight of my thirteen June books. “Piglettes” was too grim and I abandoned it, and I’m almost finished with “Healing the Land Teaches Us Who We Are”, leaving me with three more to read before I start my July ones.

The Liz and Emma Read Together books are in a separate pile (middle shelf, to the left) because they don’t form part of the TBR project. The pile on the top right is review books and a loaned one that mustn’t get subsumed by the general TBR.

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I completed 21 books in total in May. I am part-way through three more (one of those is Oliver Sacks’ letters which I am eking out as they’re wonderful but quite dense) plus my current Reading with Emma book and I finished the ongoing big one. I acquired eight NetGalley books this month, and my NetGalley review percentage is reasonably steady at 94%.

Incomings

The incomings are GOOD!

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Look at that, just two, and both from The Heath Bookshop. I attended a book talk by Ellen Jones, sharing her important “Outrage: How to Fight for LGBTQ+ Lives” and bought the book (I did also go to talks by Winnie M. Li on “What We Left Unsaid” and Laura Blake on “Go Home Birdie Brown” but I have read both of those already. Then I rebought Martin Cutts’ “Oxford Guide to Plain English” so I have a copy myself again.

Moving on to ebooks, I only won 8 NetGalley books in June! I also bought two e-books on Kindle in the sale:

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I will now admit that I have all of Laurie Gilmore‘s novels now, up to and including “The Daisy Chain Flower Shop”, each bought for 99p, and I have not read any of them. My other Kindle purchase was S. Usher Evan’s “Drinks and Sinkholes” which is in the Weary Dragon Inn series and I’ve heard resembles the Travis Baldree novels. We shall see.

In NetGalley wins, the first three are books by authors I’ve read before – radio broadcaster Sara Cox has a new novel, “The Truth of Us” (published July), about next-door-neighbours who take different paths from the early 1980s onwards (I’ve previously enjoyed her “Thrown” and “Way Back“); I enjoyed Sylvia Patterson‘s music journalist memoir “I’m Not With the Band” nine years ago, and here we have “I’m Not With the Man” (July), a celebration of music’s mavericks she’s encountered over the years; and I read Tom Drury‘s “The End of Vandalism” so long ago it doesn’t appear in the reading diary archives but I know I have it on my shelves, and here he returns to the location of this (and some in between) with “West of Loveland” (November).

I was tempted by Cassandra L. Yacovazzi’s “Mary Kay” (November) the story of the cosmetics company whose party selling (think Tupperware) revolutionised work for women in the US, and Rebecca F. Kuang’s “Taipei Story” (September) appealed for being a coming-of-age novel as a Chinese American woman has a summer in Taipei; I’ve never read her before. I couldn’t resist Andi Harriman’s book “The Cure’s Disintegration” (October) in the 33 1/3 series which takes a deep dive into specific albums. “Totem” by Jo Baring (September) is an (untold) history of sculpture (I hope the images work; might have to read this on the dreaded Shelf app!), and finally, Hika Harada’s “How to Use 3,000 Yen” (September) has three generations of Japanese women approaching life and, most importantly, money.

Outgoings

Three books left the house this month! I returned “Nine Lives” to Gill as I’d had it but not read it for a year. I loaned “The Oxford Guide to Plain English” to a colleague at the Community Centre then decided that copy should stay in the Community Centre to help others (I then re-bought it, so it cancelled itself out!) and I loaned “A Murder for Miss Hortense” to Gill.

So that’s 21 books read and 12 books in (but one cancels itself out) for May, and 2 (really 1) print books in and 3 (or 2) out.

Currently reading

Still better than May when I had that Terrible Pile, I’m just reading these three plus finishing off a NetGalley read.

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I am reading Oliver Sacks’ “Letters” slowly. I’m reading “Healing the Land Teaches us Who We are” on Kindle from NetGalley. Only one remains from last month’s pile, “Lost London” which I am savouring, as well as our Reading Together book “Sand Talk”, which is going well.

Coming up

I have a large number of NetGalley books to read (see below) and then the last two of my first seven of my 20 Books of Summer and the next six. I have one hardback that’s out in paperback this month: I have some usually quiet shifts at the Community Centre and a train trip to London which should help.

I have two of my May NetGalley books left to read/finish, and then my July NetGalley books:

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Oh dear! So “I’m Not With the Man” and “The Truth of Us” we know about already. “Mr Sidhu’s Post Office” is a novel of the Post Office Scandal’ I was offered “Main Characters” and “The Shampoo Effect”, the latter because I enjoyed the author’s first novel. “Miss Hortense and the Last Rites” is the sequel to the wonderful “A Murder for Miss Hortense”, and “Secrets of the Italian Guesthouse” is a Rachel’s Random Resources book tour book and is set on Lake Como which is why I asked for it.

“The Uses of Utopia” hopefully includes real-life utopian experiments as well as literary ones. “White Spaces” follows Mensah’s debut, “Small Joys” and follows four young Black men navigating modern life. “Not that Kind of Proposal” I was offered by the publisher as I enjoyed the author’s previous book (which included disability representation) and “The Wedding Planner’s Guide to Stealing the Bride” which I’m sure I’ll review with it is by an author I already like, too. “The Secret World of Twilight” is a nature book, “Banking on Belonging” is about how refugee entrepreneurs benefit society, and “The Nile Cruise” is another Rachel’s Random Resources book tour novel I’ll be reviewing early August; I have read the author’s previous two books.

In print TBR, I’m includes Book 7 of my 20 Books of Summer for May and then six for June (see the whole list here), plus I really want to read Takeo Doi’s “The Anatomy of Dependence” before the Iris Murdoch Conference in August (IM had and read this book and at the last conference there was a very interesting paper on how it might have affected her thoughts and writing, which affected my own personality and morality!), and “The Trembling Hand” comes out in paperback on 23 July so maybe I’ll get it read before then!

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With the ones I’m currently reading, I have three books to finish and two to continue, and 23 other books to read, so, nope! But I’ll give it my best attempt!

How was your June reading? What are you reading this month? Are you doing any book challenges for the month?

What I added to my wish list in June 2026

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Welcome to a new series on my blog! On the first day (ish) of every month, I share what has been added to my physical and electronic TBRs (to be read piles), and of course what I’ve read, but there are so many great books coming out that I’d like to highlight but don’t yet own.

So I’m starting to record on here what I’ve added to my wishlist every month. This should also help me to remember where I heard about books I end up acquiring.

A quick note on how I prepare my TBR: I use my Amazon wishlist to quickly add books I’ve looked up and am interested in, then I move them over to my wishlist on this blog, having a think about whether I really do want to read them as I go. Then I eventually borrow or buy them, if a print book, either from my local independent bookshop (The Heath Bookshop), a local charity shop or from Awesome Books.

At the time of writing, I need to transfer a load of books from my Amazon wishlist to here – if you want to see my proper wishlist, please refer to the one on this blog!

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Albert Wendt – Leaves of the Banyan Tree – a big saga of Western Samoa. I can’t remember where I found this one.

Jane Traies – Now You See Me: Lesbian Life Stories – including the whole life stories of older women. Seen in The Queer Bookshelf.

Carol de Robertis – So Many Stars: An Oral History of Trans, Nonbinary, Genderqueer and Two-Spirit People of Color – influenced by reading The Queer Bookshelf.

Richard Evans – Listening to the Music the Machines Make: Inventing Electronic Pop 1978-1983 – what it says on the tin. I saw this and showed it to Matthew so in a physical bookshop, but when and where I’m not sure!

Katrin Juliusdottir – Dead Sweet, Stop Dead – Icelandic mysteries with a female protagonist, and Stop Dead is set during the Reykjavik Marathon! I saw Stop Dead on Annabookbel’s blog.

Colin Grant – What We Leave We Carry: Voices of Migration to Britain – I can’t remember where I saw mention of Grant’s new book, but here it is. I have his last one TBR via NetGalley still.

Jared Poon – City of Others – a fantasy novel set in Singapore and I was attracted by the cover when I saw it on the Proud Geek bookshop‘s stall at Queens Heath Pride. I think Matthew might like this so adding to his wishlist, really.

David Streitfeld – Western Star: The Life and Legends of Larry McMurtry – A favourite author has a new biography. Seen on Book Jotter’s Winding Up the Week post. This is just out so I’ve already ordered it from the Bookshop.

Michael Cunningham – Unsayable – a memoir about his life and writing, hooray, a bumper crop taken with the above! Seen mentioned on fellow-fan Simon Stuck-in-a-Book’s blog.

Chris Moss – Where Tourists Seldom Tread: Postcards from Bypassed Britain – my kind of thing, about towns that don’t get visited but have interesting things in them. I think I saw this on a “Books people who bought [the above] book bought” list.

Christoffer Petersen – Seven Graves One Winter – crime set in Greenland, which is always a draw as a book location. I saw the second in the series reviewed on FictionFan’s blog.

Have you read any of these? Any take your fancy? Would you like to see this feature at the end of each month on my blog?

A book of the year for sure: Sathnam Sanghera – “Tonight The Music Seems so Loud”

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Sathnam Sanghera is known for his powerful evocations of the lasting legacies of the British Empire in his “Empireland” and “Empireworld“, including a TV series, and has also written a fascinating memoir of his early life in the Midlands and a couple of novels. But he’s gone off the topic of Empire and into a passion project here, with a proper, serious study of the musician George Michael. I won this on NetGalley when I saw it there by chance, but I was hoping that a copy might arrive with me from the publisher, as I was tangentially involved in the book through my work as a transcriber; I’m happily included in the Acknowledgements so feel OK to say that! So with this review I get a book off the shelf and out of the NetGalley backlog – result!

Sathnam Sanghera – “Tonight the Music Seems so Loud: The Meaning of George Michael”

(23 May 2026, from the publisher)

The video [Last Christmas] also marked the final filmed appearance of Michael as clean-shaven: he has stubble in the video for ‘Everything She Wants’, which was released as a double A-side to ‘Last Christmas’, and he remained publicly embearded for the rest of his life.

This is just a wonderful book. Sathnam puts forward the proposition that the world deserves a proper, serious study of George Michael, given the multiple ones that exist of his contemporaries, Madonna, Prince, Michael Jackson … and here he provides it, and also tries to explain why George has not achieved that level of scholarship and being taken seriously.

It’s structured basically chronologically under headings that describe George, from “Prodigy” and “Control Freak” through “Quarry and Genius Naif” to “Celebrity” and “Casualty”, bracketed by an Intro and Outro. Sathnam was a fan of George as a child, mocked by his brother for being so, and has retained a deep love for him, even though, as a music journalist even, he managed never to meet him in person.

There’s enough of Sathnam’s personal feelings and his modern-day pilgrimages to places where George played or lived (self-deprecatingly sharing his oversharing and overstaying his welcome at a car showroom that used to be a nightclub and digging deep into micro-facts, some amusing and endearing, as in the quotation at the top), but he also uses a good range of sources, from other books, (Andrew Ridgeley and Pete Paphides’ autobiographies), from documentaries, from, for example, Chinese commentators discussing the effect the Wham! shows in China had, and from interviews with George and others by other people, as well as his own discussions with George’s manager and several of his long-term engineers and producers.

Two of the book’s many interesting propositions are that George (and Andrew Ridgeley’s) position as the son of an immigrant had an effect on many aspects of his life and choices, from his work ethic and having to prove himself through employing family members to what the Wham! boys considered aspirational and and glamorous; and that from his sexuality to his mental health issues to his later life addictions, George never hid the facts and they were there for people to see, yet people somehow chose not to see them. This latter point takes us to the conclusion that his death shouldn’t have been a surprise, that it was coming for over a decade; sad but inevitable.

There is so much in this book, and so beautifully balanced. There are two counterfactual narratives, one short one that reviews have all pulled out, siting George as Glastonbury headliner, restored at last to accepting his Wham! hits, and a longer one where Ridgeley is the successful one and George the somewhat has-been, and these show the range and technical mastery of the book.

At the end, we have learned more about George Michael and can place him in popular cultural history, and we are glad with Sathnam that working on this book hasn’t destroyed his love for George, with a poignant moment in his own life at the end. This will definitely be on my Books of the Year list come December. Thankyou to Sathnam for arranging a copy for me from the publisher.

More 20 Books of Summer with two nature-orientated books – Sarah Thomas – “The Raven’s Nest” and Lev Parikian – “Taking Flight”

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Paperbacks of The Raven's Nest and Taking Flight

Books 3 and 4 in my 20 Books of Summer 2026 campaign are done! (full list with links for this year and previous years here). And like the first two, they tick off two more of my lagging 2024 TBR project, as they were the two oldest books on my TBR. Bookish Beck kindly sent me these two review copies she had: of the 18 print books acquired that month (as seen in my interim and Christmas posts), I have now read and reviewed or passed on 16!

Sarah Thomas – “The Raven’s Nest”

(11 December 2023, gift)

I have spent the summer observing that many visitors come and consume packages of ‘Icelandicness’. These packages, repeated and shared, become the narrative as presented to the world, and narrative becomes cliché. Now, more than ever, I see how necessary it has been to get inside of this life, before attempting to speak about it. (p. 218)

I was initially a little alarmed when I picked up this book, as it was clearly the story of a marriage which by August 2014 had gone wrong, and there was mention of Sarah needing her cat to be at the house when she stayed in it for the last time. I’m not keen on failed marriage stories, as we know by now (especially as we were in Iceland in JUNE 2014, for our honeymoon!), and was worried about the cat. Well, the cat wasn’t mentioned at all, even when she circled round to these same scenes at the end of the book, and the failure of the marriage only came in the last few sections.

Other than that, it’s a love story, yes, about Sarah and her Bjarni, but also about Sarah and Iceland, which I could completely understand, loving the place myself. Sarah is a film-maker and was somewhat rootless when she first visited Iceland, just at the right life-stage to fall for a new country and a new person, first of all running a summer shop in a valley, trusted by her new friends to take it over, then doing various tour-guiding jobs and film jobs back in the UK which gave her the income for a rather wandering life. Bjarni rather uncomfortably decides to take on work on the fishing fleet, later moving to work in the port; his family network provides a lot of what they need food, support and DIY-wise, showing how there’s an underlying unofficial financial web beneath the expensive shops and financial crisis we’re more aware of.

Sarah learns Icelandic and uses her new vocabulary in the chapter headings and throughout, a lovely touch, and I was reminded of my own more limited vocabulary. They’re in the Westfjords, not somewhere I know, but places I do know like Snaefellsness pop up. Being a creative, she is able to express the landscape and people brilliantly, sharing details about birds as much as people. There’s also an interesting parallel with her early life in Kenya, “a direct relationship with one’s surroundings, in this case free from the oppression of potential threat of feelings of inequity” (p. 21: she does examine the perceived threat of Kenya and how it wasn’t really justified). There are of course uncomfortable experiences here, too, such as when a coachload of her tourist clients spot Bjarni and start photographing this “typical Icelander”.

Sarah is so careful in her portrayal (as in the quotation above) and I really appreciated this care and respect as I read this wonderful book – I’m very glad I persisted with it!

Lev Parikian – “Taking Flight: The Evolutionary Story of Life on the Wing”

(11 December 2023, gift)

Until the pterosaurs came along, flight was the preserve of the small and chitinous. Pterosaurs changed the rules. You could be big and fly; you could have bones and fly; you could adapt existing limbs into wings, rather than growing them out of your body from scratch. (p. 104)

I have been lucky enough to read this author’s “Into the Tangled Bank” and “Light Rains Sometimes Fall“, so I knew I was in for a mix of accessible science and light, kind humour, and that’s what I got here.

Parikian follows the evolution of flight through looking at twelve creatures that fly now or have flown – one chapter is about pterosaurs, which are now extinct – delving back into the fossil past to look at their ancestors and relatives. We encounter flies, beetles, butterflies, bees two fossils although the Archaeopteryx chapter moves on to birds in general, some kinds of birds with various characteristics, from hummingbirds to albatross, and bats, moving through stages of evolution in an accessible and clear way (he even circles back to remind us of various facts, and describing species differentiation through a discussion of how to differentiate Magnum ice-creams is genius).

Factoids there are many (did you know birds didn’t have bladders?) but it’s never pretentious or too-fact-filled to take in, and always told with a self-deprecating sense of humour. The science and scientists are referenced with footnotes and I wonder if the published book had images, as I felt compelled to look up quite a few things along the way to see what they looked like (pterosaurs and their baggy trousers, for example). There are just enough personal moments (two encounters with dragonflies, seeing a hummingbird in his 20s when he’d given up birdwatching for a bit, seeing a misplaced albatross in Yorkshire) to give a human touch, but it’s not about him, it’s about the creatures. It’s always good to read about new science that has come about since you last thought you knew about things, for example the history of butterflies and flowering plants. A really enjoyable read.

These were Books 3 & 4 for 20 Books of Summer 2026.

Two good summer reads – Phillipa Ashley – “A Wedding Under the Cornish Sky” and Katie Clapham – “Receipts from the Bookshop”

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Why do I consider these good summer reads? Well, the Phillipa Ashley is set in St Ives, and the sea is never far away, cooling us with thoughts of a dip, and Katie Clapham is very, very cold in her little bookshop in her memoir, distracting us from the heatwave!

Phillipa Ashley – “A Wedding Under the Cornish Sky”

(27 February 2026, NetGalley)

To his right, he saw her: silhouetted in a cleft in the rocks above a rock pool. Her dark curls tumbled down her back and her iridescent scales glimmered in the fleeting bursts of sunshine. She was beautiful and he was drawn to her, like all the mythical sailors of old, like the lad from Zennor village to the church …

He was lured by her voice, and the mantra she kept repeating over and over.

‘Bloody, bloody shit. This stupid bloody tail. Why did I think this was a good idea? Stupid, stupid Zen. This bloody tail! These rocks!’

Phillipa Ashley is one of my go-to light novelists, as she can be relied on for a good read with a few moral dilemmas, decent writing and interesting characters. In this one, we meet Zennor, who is running a local talent agency with her best friend Roo. Five years ago, Matt ruined her wedding reception (and poisoned her marriage) with an outburst accusing her new husband, Trev(elyan) of snogging a waitress round the back of the venue. Now, they’re both rather horrifically back.

Matt WAS her first love, but they broke up when Zennor went to university, and now there’s a bit of chest-beating and rivalry until they both realise, or are made to, that Zennor can make her own choices, thank you very much. Zennor and Matt are good eggs, Zen dressing as a mermaid when she can’t source her usual shoal to entertain some kids on a charity day out, Matt rescuing her when she gets her tail stuck and donating much of his inheritance to refit the surf and life guard school and social centre. There are family secrets, too, and an almost-pet gull (who does come to a bad end, but it’s bearably written). The landscape and town are portrayed nicely and you feel like you’re there with the cool water around you …

In the acknowledgements as well as thanking her readers, Phillipa puts in a passionate plea to continue to read human-created writing. Hear, hear!

Thank you to Penguin for offering me a copy of this book via NetGalley in return for an honest review. “A Wedding Under the Cornish Sky” was published on 4 June 2026.

Katie Clapham – “Receipts from the Bookshop: A Bookseller’s Year

(3 April 2026, NetGalley)

A book is a beautiful present for almost any person in your life because it is a promise of an experience. It says: I want you to have this time. I want you to have the time to enjoy it. I want you to be happy. I really believe that. A book can cost £8 or £58, but there’s no less intention in the giving of it. For the right person at the right time, a book can be the most perfect present, and how often do you get a chance to gift someone Actual Magic?

I can’t, of course, resist a book about a bookshop, a nonfiction one even more, and I’ll be recommending my local indie, The Heath Bookshop, stock this one, if only to give their readers an insight into the narrow margins and highs and lows of running a small bookshop! Katie works on Fridays at Storytellers, Inc., in Lytham St Anne’s on the North-West coast of England, which she co-owns with her mum.

Here we have a week-by-week account of her shifts there, the things people do that she (and other bookshop owners) like, like people overspending when they use a book token, orders for a stack of books that literally save the profit margins that day/week, and things people do that they don’t (walking past, coming in and saying how much they read without buying anything).

Katie has regulars she enjoys seeing come in to the shop (and one who’s never been, but just orders) and is honest about the lulls and dull bits but lovely about the joys and bright spots. They seem to sell toys and puppets and children’s books (so a bit different from OUR bookshop) and there’s a lot of children’s joy and grandparents, etc., looking for presents, which makes it a lovely, heartwarming read. It’s also often freezing, which is nice to read about in a heatwave!

I felt seen in this quote: “When the customers sell the books, you’re doing something right. Or something wrong. But I think right.” as I’m a whatsit for handselling books to friends, acquaintances and downright strangers when in The Heath. A lovely, recommended read, less acerbic but suitable for those who like Shaun Bythell’s books about Wigtown.

Thank you to Orion/Phoenixfor approving me to read this book via NetGalley in return for an honest review. “Receipts from the Bookshop” was also published on 4 June 2026!

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