A flurry of new subscribers - how lovely and thank you. Welcome! I cannot promise you posts on a set day (I work full time, so this Substack is squeezed into corners) but I do promise you regular bookish despatches from the not-so-coal face of reading.
By way of (re)introduction: I’ve been a journalist for (mumbles) over twenty years. I worked in glossy magazines for most of that time, but books have always been my lode star. At Glamour, I casually suggested to editor Jo Elvin that we ought to have ‘a bookclub with author events with wine and goody bags’. Jo paused and looked up from the page proof I had just handed her. “Great idea. Do it." And that was that. High points included telling Jessie Burton’s team that she should make her way to the pink boat moored on the Thames (the event was sponsored by Benefit), “Sorry? Could you repeat that, please? A….boat?”; Marian Keyes standing on a chair, all the better to show the audience her fabulous shoes; David Nicholls (officially the nicest man in publishing) and Cecelia Ahern agreeing to do our first event.
After I left Glamour, I freelanced, and then became Books Editor for You magazine. Steadily, the books took over. I now spend my entire work life absorbed in them (and am quite literally surrounded by them: piles of proofs march around my desk). I’m Editor-in-Chief at BookBrunch, a hub for publishing news and book-related content, delivered with expertise, insight and a side of wit. I chair events - which I love, little is better than chatting to authors about books: next up - the brilliant Emily Howes.
I’m a cheerful person, as a rule. I adore my family and think having children is a joy and a privilege. I find happiness in small things because I have learned that life is far too short to wait for the big ones: Digestive biscuits with my coffee, being by the sea, washing blowing on the line and clean sheets on the bed, a really good rose, bookshops, hot, salty french fries and crisp, cold white wine, walking by the river, fulsome curtains, a fire, eating outside, mid-century novelists, a sturdy umbrella, handwritten notes, a new pen, a new book.
And so to the BOOKS. I read a lot. I am often asked how I read so much, and I thought I would chronicle a week in my reading life, to see where it slips into the day, tucked in between folds of work and domestic admin and family. I realise this was quite light on the reading for me, as I had so much work, but needs must. I hope it makes the point that you can absolutely can squeeze books in - providing you’re willing to allow things to be squeezed out.
Saturday
There are people who think that you can have too many books. One of my weekday postmen (postpeople?) rolls his eyes as he delivers more proofs and tells me reading is “a waste of time”. He is a man of Many Opinions.
“Got enough?” He always says, as he hands over the goods. “Never”, I tell him, briskly, doing my best Lady Bracknell. There is aways room for another book. The rest can just shuffle up to make room. (Or, more realistically, they can be distributed amongst family, friends, secondhand bookshops, or popped on my front wall for passers-by to take.)
The weekend postie is more cheerful. Possibly because he is a fan of the ‘drop, ring and run’ technique. Today, he rings the doorbell with a vigour approaching violence, and must have sprinted down the steps, as by the time I open the door, he is in his van, tooting at me as he drives away with a jaunty wave.
Today’s haul: a finished copy of All Grown Up - Daisy Buchanan (utterly gorgeous and her best book thus far, I think); the paper back of Kakigori Summer - Emily Itami (which I loved); Silent Bones - Val McDermid; Annie Knows Everything - Rachel Wood (have heard great things); The Valley of the Ravens - Barbara Erskine; Receipts from the Bookshop - Katie Clapham; The Vivisectors - Missouri Williams
I have approximately 101 things to do - not least plant the geraniums I picked up at church fete this morning. (I find a church or village fete impossible to resist. Plant stalls, homemade cakes, frolicking children - bliss. This one even had chickens - lemon-yellow, fluffy ones, a cross-looking turkey, and very patient rabbits with velvety soft ears which fell over their eyes.)
However, I fall upon Notes from the Bookshop and proceed to ignore everyone until I have finished it. I love Katie’s Substack so sink into the book like a mildly deranged superfan. There’s the legend that is Business Mum! Will the Bookwormlet’s business endeavours make the cut? Aha, here’s Mrs Lemon Cake. (I wish I had a Mrs Lemon Cake in my life. Lemon cake is my favourite.) It is DELIGHTFUL, hugely warm and so witty I keep laughing aloud, and confess I cried a little at the end. Bookshops are the bedrock of civilisation: an independent bookshop is an act of hope, a monument to stories and the essential goodness of books. Katie has written a love letter to books and bookshops, and a deeply charming memoir. Give it to everyone you know.
Sunday
Read on for my thoughts on the rest of the week’s reading matter, including gothic boarding school chills, good sex scenes, and the book I am obsessed with. AND there’s a really very exciting interview about a banger of a book (many years in the writing) coming up this weekend, so please do subscribe so you don’t miss it. (She says, bossily but lovingly.)