Let’s Recommend | Horror Graphic Novels

Let’s recommend some horror graphic novels!

Partly because I’ve enjoyed a couple of them myself recently, and partly because I always like to recommend some seasonally appropriate books in the run-up to Halloween, today I’m shining the spotlight on a few horror graphic novels. I like graphic novels in general, but I think horror is perhaps the genre best equipped to show off the strengths of the form; art being the ideal means of enhancing the kind of rich atmosphere and striking imagery that so often define good horror.

As always, I encourage you to share your own recommendations in return, but without further ado, here are some horror graphic novels to delve into if you’re in the mood for something spooky.

Wytches by Scott Snyder; art by Jock & Matt Hollingsworth

Forget black cats and pointy hats, the creatures in this offering are far more monstrous. Drawing on the more sinister, animalistic early mythology of witches, and accompanied by a suitably intense, frenetic and visceral art style, this is a captivating read about a family seeking a fresh start in the wake of trauma, in a place where the townsfolk make pledges to appease the monsters lurking within the trees.

An example of Wytches’ art style

Poe: Stories and Poems by Edgar Allan Poe; art by Gareth Hinds

Poe is one of horror’s most iconic names, so I’m sure he needs little introduction. That said, if you haven’t actually tried his work before, this collection is a great little sampler of some of his better-known shorts, brought to life by artist Gareth Hinds. The writer certainly has a knack for bold concepts and striking images, and it’s fun to explore the origin of some of the genre’s most beloved tropes.

An example of Poe: Stories and Poems’ art style

Through the Woods by Emily Carroll

I’ve revisited this several times now and I’m always utterly entranced by Carroll’s haunting artwork, which utilises colour and layout to such great effect. Though the individual stories don’t tend to stick with me, the overall sense of threat and unease she creates always draws me back – which is saying a lot for someone who almost never rereads.

An example of Through the Woods’ art style

Snow, Glass, Apples by Neil Gaiman; art by Colleen Doran

This fairy tale retelling poses an instantly enticing question: What if Snow White was a liar? Gaiman does well to completely reframe everything we think we know about a classic story from this new perspective – in which the so-called ‘wicked Queen’ is only ever trying to protect her realm from the true monster – without contradicting any of the tale’s major canonical details. Creepy and poignant in equal measure, Doran’s ornate yet macabre artwork serves as the perfect companion to the text.

An example of Snow, Glass, Apples’ art style

Frankenstein: The Graphic Novel by Mary Shelley; art by Declan Shalvey & Jason Cardy

The suitably gothic artwork in this adaptation of Shelley’s masterpiece stays true to the novel’s core atmosphere, allowing its narrative, prose, and themes to still shine despite some slight and well-handled abridging. A perfect means of re-exploring an old favourite from a new perspective, or a fantastic entry point for those who are yet to explore the origins of the science fiction/horror genre, this is a very successful adaptation.

An example of Frankenstein’s art style

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What are some of your favourite horror graphic novels?

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Let’s Recommend | Women in Translation

August is Women in Translation Month. As the name suggests, it’s a time when we’re all encouraged to reach for and discuss books written by women in translation, to combat the gender imbalance that continues to persist within international literature. Last year, I recommended 8 titles for those looking to get involved, and while I stand by those picks, I wanted to highlight some more in case anyone is particularly keen to boost their TBR before the month kicks off!

I’ve linked to each book in case you’d like to know more or pick up a copy, but without further ado, here are 10 excellent books by women in translation.

Loyalties by Delphine de Vigan | France | Translated from the French by George Miller

As the title suggests, this is primarily a look at the concept of loyalty in its various forms. With each of the 4 main characters keeping a secret on behalf of someone else, de Vigan explores the moral complexities inherent to balancing trust with honesty. The undercurrent of tension and claustrophobia that builds throughout had me enthralled, and I loved its subtle commentary on sexism and the nuance of what constitutes abuse.

Tender Is the Flesh by Augustina Bazterrica | Argentina | Translated from the Spanish by Sarah Moses

Deliberately repellent and utterly compelling in equal measure, this all-too-plausible dystopian looks at what might happen if animal meat was toxic to humans, and cannibalism became the norm. Bazterrica is unflinching in her portrayal of society’s degradation, but there’s so much depth to revel in, with commentary on the role of language, genetic modification, hunting for sport, human trafficking, and class disparity all woven in seamlessly.

Liar by Ayelet Gundar-Goshen | Israel | Translated from the Hebrew by Sondra Silverstone

At once a searing social commentary and a gripping page-turner, Liar looks at the ease with which our words can take on a life of their own, when a 17-year-old girl falsely accuses a minor celebrity of assault. The novel’s real strengths are its fantastically well-realised characters, who are painfully flawed, complex and believable, and Gundar-Goshen’s stunning prose, which can make even the smallest moments shine.

The White Book by Han Kang | South Korea | Translated from the Korean by Deborah Smith

Loosely tied around our narrator’s struggle to come to terms with the death of her baby sister, this experimental little gem is part novel, part memoir, part prose poetry collection. Beautifully written, I found it as linguistically stimulating as I did emotionally impactful, and loved witnessing its constant push and pull between fact and fiction.

Waves by Ingrid Chabbert & Carol Maurel | France | Translated from the French by Edward Gauvin

Inspired by the author’s real life, this graphic novel explores the difficulty of navigating grief, and the importance of finding hope, when two women’s journey to have a child culminates in tragedy. Accompanied by Maurel’s dreamlike artwork, it’s a moving story handled with due sensitivity, and the normalised queer representation was a very welcome touch.

Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata | Japan | Translated from the Japanese by Ginny Tapley Takemori

The concept and prose may seem straightforward in this exploration of society versus the individual, but it’s shrewdly observant and quietly impactful. Ultimately, Murata asks us to consider the extent to which we should sacrifice the things that make us happy, if simply for the sake of fitting in and avoiding scrutiny. With moments of poignancy and understated humour, she also touches on ingrained misogyny and class divides, all carried by her heroine’s charmingly unique world view.

Snare by Lilja Sigurðardóttir | Iceland | Translated from the Icelandic by Quentin Bates

The gripping pace of a thriller can often come at the expense of character depth. Not so in Snare. This excellent example of noir fiction takes us into Iceland’s underbelly, as a woman turns to drug smuggling to fund a custody battle over her young son. Page-turning tension, a tangled web of morally ambiguous characters, engaging subplots, and emotional complexity elevated what could have been a nondescript crime flick into something decidedly more memorable.

The Unit by Ninni Holmqvist | Sweden | Translated from the Swedish by Marlaine Delargy

There’s an unexpected tenderness to this speculative dystopian tale, in which those who remain unmarried and childless over the age of 50 must enter a Unit. Here, they live a life of luxury but must participate in clinical trials and forced organ donation. Though easy to fly through, the book has interesting things to say about how society defines value in life, as well as class snobbery and the role of women. Chiefly, it ruminates on why certain types of love are given credence over others.

Horizontal Collaboration by Navie & Carole Maurel | France | Translated from the French by Margaret Morrison

An elderly grandmother finally divulges the details of a tragic love affair that played out during Occupation in this heartbreaking yet hopeful graphic novel. Set largely in one apartment block in 1942, we glimpse a microcosm of society at the time, with the author brilliantly capturing the moral dilemmas people were forced to navigate day-to-day under Nazi rule; the divide between those who acted in aid of the greater good and those who served only themselves.

Tokyo Ueno Station by Yu Miri | Japan/South Korea | Translated from the Japanese by Morgan Giles

Employing a touch of the supernatural, Tokyo Ueno Station explores the very real problem of poverty, highlighting wilful ignorance towards widespread homelessness in modern-day Japan. The tone throughout is one of nostalgia and melancholy, as our deceased narrator looks back on a life of crippling poverty, missed opportunities, and lost love. The book offers heartfelt insight into the cost endured by those pushed to the fringes of society as a direct result of their socioeconomic standing.

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I’ll leave it there for now, but I’d love for you to recommend some of your favourite books by women in translation in return. Happy reading!

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Let’s Recommend | Feel-Good Nonfiction

Let’s recommend some feel-good nonfiction!

Now more than ever, books can help to offer some much-needed escapism. That said, I know a lot of people will struggle to process or lose themselves in fiction given how overwhelmed they feel by everything that’s going on around us. On the whole, I find nonfiction easier to ingest and to dip in and out of as and when I feel I have the mental capacity to read. It’s also nice to remind ourselves sometimes that not every aspect of real life is a dumpster fire. And so, here are some nonfiction recommendations that I hope will offer some distraction and joy in these uncertain times – or any time, for that matter.

Where possible, I’ve linked to each title on Book Depository, in case anything piques your interest. As always, I encourage you all to share your own recommendations in return!

The Bookshop Book by Jen Campbell

If you’re reading this post, chances are you already love all things bookish, so what better than a book that celebrates all sorts of weird and wonderful bookshops from around the world? This really is a love letter to bookshops as safe spaces, and the booksellers who work hard to cultivate and protect that environment, no matter the obstacles they may face.

Iris Grace by Arabella Carter-Johnson

Iris and Thula

Written by her mother, this book is about a young girl with severe autism, who was almost entirely uncommunicative until the family took in a very special cat named Thula. The extraordinary bond between the two, coupled with Iris’s remarkable flair for art, sees her begin to blossom in ways her family could never have imagined.

Wisdom from a Humble Jellyfish by Rani Shah

This book is essentially a series of reminders that animals always put their own safety and wellbeing first, and how humans could learn a thing or two from that ethos. Granted, a few of the self-care tips are somewhat tenuously linked to our animal counterparts, but you’ll pick up lots of interesting facts about nature, and perhaps come away from the book resolved to be a little kinder to yourself.

Wishful Drinking by Carrie Fisher

I’ve never known anyone with a knack for finding humour in even the darkest of times quite like Carrie Fisher. Though she never shies away from the struggles she endured, particularly with bipolar and addiction, there is such a sense of warmth and wisdom to her stories – not to mention razor sharp wit and genius wordplay – that you feel like you’re putting the world to rights with a friend. No matter how bad things get, we still need a good laugh. As Carrie put it herself, “If my life wasn’t funny, it would just be true, and that is unacceptable.”

Flying the Nest by Hannah Dale

An example of the JOY that is Hannah Dale’s work.

Look, maybe there are times right now when you feel like your brain capacity won’t allow for much beyond looking at adorable portraits of baby animals. I hear you, and I’ve got you covered with this delight of a book. I love Hannah Dale’s art, and don’t worry, there’s a little bit of information about each species featured alongside the portraits, so you are still technically reading.

Gifted by anonymous

Subtitled “The Tale of 10 Mysterious Book Sculptures Gifted to the City of Words and Ideas”, this is about the fascinating project that saw an anonymous female artist leave 10 striking art pieces created from old books in arts venues across Edinburgh. Each was accompanied by a note that explained why that venue had been chosen, with the project essentially serving as an extended and very public celebration of her wish to appreciate and protect art and culture. With many such venues about to face very difficult times, this is a sentiment I’m sure most of us here could heartily get behind.

Literary Witches by Taisia Kitaiskaia & Katy Horan

Toni Morrison, as depicted by Katy Horan.

Suggesting that the power of good storytelling, and the ability to conjure worlds and emotions, is a kind of magic in and of itself, this book celebrates some of the most ground-breaking and inspiring female writers from throughout history. It’s fantastically diverse, with a great mix of literary giants and virtually unknown writers from across the globe being featured. Each receives a short, evocative vignette that offers a poetic snapshot of a key aspect of their life or work, as well as a more traditional biographical note, and recommendations from their oeuvre. The big selling point, however, is Horan’s artwork, with each writer represented in a stunning portrait that cleverly draws on iconography from their body of work. It’s a glorious celebration of female writers, and an excellent means of picking up some new recommended reads!

The Reason I Jump by Naoki Higashida (translated by K.A. Yoshida & David Mitchell)

Structured largely like a Q&A, this was written by a sensitive, intelligent, and assured 13-year-old Japanese boy who wished to dispel myths about life with autism. It has its poignant moments, absolutely, but it does wonders to break down barriers, and remind us all to be kind and patient with one another; a message that arguably feels timelier than ever.

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Have you read any of these? What feel-good nonfiction would you recommend?

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Let’s Recommend | Gothic Fiction

I’ve recommended gothic reads in the past, and I stand by those recommendations. But since it’s my favourite genre, and autumn/winter is the perfect time to indulge in some unsettling, atmospheric, and immersive reads, I thought I’d recommend a few more. In case any catch your eye, I’ve linked to each book on Book Depository. And as always, I encourage you all to share your own recommendations in return!

The Corset by Laura Purcell

Described as a Victorian chiller, The Corset follows two young women in very different circumstances. Ruth is a teenage seamstress awaiting trial for murder. Dorothea is a wealthy socialite, whose fascination with phrenology leads her to Oakgate Prison, where she hopes to uncover the truth behind Ruth’s case. An air of mystery and threat bubbles throughout, with the book exploring notions of female autonomy, the horror of poverty, and the psychological impact of trauma. Flirtations with the possibility of something supernatural are handled incredibly well, elevating this gothic gem to the heights of subtle literary horror.

A Spell of Winter by Helen Dunmore

Written in sumptuous, evocative prose, A Spell of Winter is a strangely beguiling tale that explores forbidden love, the burden of secrets, and the struggle to escape the cloying inheritance of family. Set largely in the build up to WWI, we have many hallmarks of the gothic genre, including an imposing manor home, a family cutting themselves off from the outside world, and dangerous secrets that threaten to tear them all apart. Tense and quietly eerie without ever boiling over, I was utterly enthralled.

House of Glass by Susan Fletcher

Clara, a young woman with a rare brittle bone condition and a passion for botany, is invited to establish a glasshouse at Shadowbrook, an infamous country home. Upon arrival, she finds an owner conspicuous by absence, and residents terrified of a supposed haunting. Clara soon sets her practical mind to solving the crumbling manor’s mysteries. In many ways, this is a book of opposites; of truth versus lies, logic versus faith, and reality versus the supernatural, as we follow the unravelling of long-held secrets, and examine the devastating ways women’s lives were ruled by scandal, rumour, and reputation. This is gothic historic fiction at its best, and is easily one of my books of the year so far.

Dracula by Bram Stoker

There’s no one reading this who hasn’t heard of Dracula. It’s one of those books that is so iconic, we tend to think we know all about if before we even read it, leaving us to wonder if it’s worth the time and effort. Having finally picked it up for myself last year, I can confidently say that it absolutely is. So much more nuanced than I expected, I loved its fascinating take on gender roles, the Victorian fixation with bodily and sexual corruption, and the timeless fear of the unknown. As a lover of gothic and horror fiction, it was really fun to see many of the foundations upon which those genres would flourish being set down. There is some very interesting use of queer coding to examine too, but above all else, it remains a gripping, atmospheric page turner.

The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson

It’s worth pointing out that this is very, very different from the recent Netflix adaptation, which only shares the book’s name and generally creepy nature. Jackson’s novel is a masterclass in the less is more approach to horror, completely forgoing gore or jump scares. Far more psychological than its screen counterpart, it creeps beneath your skin, forcing you to question what is real and which characters can be trusted. A rumination on the invasive influence of storytelling and fear, and the dangerous power of the imagination, themes of suppression, sisterhood, and belonging simmer to reach a breathless fever pitch. Intelligent, understated, and downright unsettling, this take on the classic haunted house narrative is all the better for its ambiguity.

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Have you read any of these? What gothic reads would you recommend?

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Let’s Recommend | Festive Reads

Let’s recommend some festive reads

Tis the season for some festive book recommendations! As always, I encourage you to share your own recommendations in return, but without further ado, here are some books that are guaranteed to get you into the festive spirit in the run-up to the big day.

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

Most of us are familiar with the concept of Dickens’ classic tale, which sees miserable Scrooge learning the error of his ways with the help of the ghosts of Christmas past, present, and future. And whilst there are many well-known screen adaptations, I didn’t actually get round to picking up the original text until this time last year. Having not read any of his work for years, I was pleasantly surprised by how readable and evocative Dickens’ prose was, which made this a timeless and very worthwhile read.

The Nutcracker by E.T.A. Hoffmann

The ballet adaptation of The Nutcracker has become a staple of the festive season, but being another story that I finally read in its original form last year, I can heartily recommend it to those in search of something rich in festive charm and whimsy. Celebrating the magic of childhood imagination and dreams come true, it’s easy to understand why its appeal has endured for all these years.

Christmas Days by Jeanette Winterson

Christmas Days is a collection of twelve short stories interspersed with festive anecdotes and recipes that Winterson has accumulated over the years. Some of the stories have a fantastical, fairy tale edge, but they never lack real-world resonance. A varied mix, you can expect everything from quiet offerings about falling in love or dealing with grief, to spooky tales of ghosts and revenge, and even the nativity story from the perspective of the donkey that carried Mary. Winterson’s prose is very approachable, with moments of real beauty, and this certainly fuelled a desire to check out more of her work.

Another Night Before Christmas by Carol Ann Duffy

Duffy is the UK’s current Poet Laureate, and each year she releases a festive poem that has been illustrated by a different artist. I hope to build up a collection of these charming little hardbacks, and started with this delightful retelling of the similarly named classic. This version has a modern twist, and follows a young girl trying to find out once-and-for-all if Santa really exists. It’s a lovely, swift read, perfect for an afternoon by the fire with a cup of tea and a mince pie! As a fan of Rob Ryan’s paper cut-outs, I also loved the accompanying artwork in this particular edition.

The Christmasaurus by Tom Fletcher

A children’s novel fit for readers of any age, The Christmasaurus gave me all the warm, festive fuzzies. A bit bonkers, but full of heart, it’s a thrilling adventure with lovely messages about friendship, family, and believing in the seemingly impossible. It also has some good disability representation, with the protagonist being a wheelchair user. Fun and heartening, it taps into the inherent magic and nostalgia of the season, making us all feel like big kids again.

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There we have it! What festive reads would you recommend?

Let’s Recommend | YA for Adult Readers

Let’s recommend some YA books for adult readers

I don’t pick up YA books all that often these days, but that’s not to say there aren’t some absolute gems out there. I think a major put-off for a lot of people who tend to steer away from it (especially older readers) is a worry that the stories will focus too much on angsty teenage romance, and shy away from more serious, real-world issues. With that in mind, here are some YA reads that do precisely the opposite, hence why I think adult and teenage readers alike should find something to relate to.

Asking For It by Louise O’Neill

Through the eyes of a teenage protagonist in a small town, O’Neill explores the terrible culture of victim blaming, and the poisonous attitude of slut shaming, that plague society when it comes to cases of sexual assault. The genius of the book lies in how flawed our heroine actually is, proving how easy it is for people to brand a ‘certain kind of girl’ with demoralising labels that can prove as damaging as the physical assault itself.

After Tomorrow by Gillian Cross

After Tomorrow flips the readers’ perception of the refugee crisis on its head by essentially forcing us to ask, ‘what if it was me?’. This speculative dystopian novel follows a British family as they flee through the Channel Tunnel in search of asylum on the continent, following economic disaster, food shortages, and mass rioting in the UK. It touches on many aspects of the migrant experience, including displacement, language barriers, borders being closed, families being separated, widespread mistrust, and the struggle to hold onto your national identity. It also features an entirely platonic male/female friendship between two teenagers, which was a refreshing touch in a YA read.

A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness

This touching, universally relatable story is all about love, loss, and the transformative power of storytelling to help us deal with the hardships of life. Simple in prose, yet painfully real, it focuses on a young boy, whose mother is seriously ill. By night, he is visited by a strange monster that tells him stories, in exchange for the truth he is hiding from even himself. The moment that truth is revealed is devastatingly poignant. I highly recommend picking up an edition with Jim Kay’s wonderfully atmospheric illustrations if possible; I felt they added a whole other layer of depth and immersion.

Between Shades of Gray by Ruta Sepetys

Shining a light on an often-forgotten part of the war, Between Shades of Gray follows a 15-year-old Lithuanian girl, who, along with her mother and little brother, is seized under Stalin’s rule and sent to a work camp in the coldest reaches of Siberia. They must survive the brutality of both their captors and the horrendous conditions, whilst keeping the spark of hope alive amongst their peers, that they may live to see liberation.

The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender by Leslye Walton

I read this years ago, but certain scenes, and the general tone of strange beauty and quiet heartbreak, have stayed with me ever since. This lyrical, magical story is a multi-generational family drama that focuses predominantly on a girl born with wings that sprout from her back. In her search for acceptance and normalcy, she will be both ridiculed and revered, in a tale that builds towards a devastating climax that is plagued by pain and loss, but tinged with hope.

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Have you read any of these books? What YA books would you recommend for adult readers?

Let’s Recommend | Halloween Reads

Let’s recommend some Halloween reads!

Each year, as the build-up to Halloween begins, I like to recommend some creepy books for those who want to get into the spirit of the season. Without further ado, here are my picks for this year – and as always, I encourage you to share your own recommendations in the comments.

The Silence by Tim Lebbon

A thrilling, apocalyptic horror story that plays with the idea of sensory deprivation, this is definitely worth checking out if you’re a fan of Josh Malerman’s Bird Box, or the movie, A Quiet Place. A cave system that has been sealed off for millennia is excavated, unleashing a horde of deadly, prehistoric, bat-like creatures that hunt using sound. We follow a family (one of whom is deaf) who flee their home in search of somewhere safe to hunker down, as the plague spreads across Europe. Relying on the use of sign language to live in silence, with a mounting sense of panic and claustrophobia closing in, they must face threat from the creatures themselves, and people pushed to the brink. It’s not a perfect book, but I found it fast, fun, and a fresh take on a well saturated genre.

Carrie by Stephen King

Between the iconic status of both the book and the film, and the non-linear structure that gives us glimpses of the tragic outcome throughout, we always know that Carrie’s story will end in violence and bloodshed. Despite this sense of inevitability, the book still manages to be tense and gripping. King’s heroine is so well drawn, and so poorly treated, that despite the horror she unleashes, we can still feel pathos and sympathy for her. Indeed, the true evil in this story is found elsewhere, making this a tale about the monsters we create.

I Am Legend by Richard Matheson

First off, if you’ve seen the Will Smith movie, know that the original book is very different, and in my opinion, significantly superior. We follow a man who fears he may be the last survivor following an outbreak that has seen the rest of the population turned into vampires. The physical danger posed by these blood-thirsty creatures is indeed horrifying, but is no less real to our hero than the looming threat of insanity, brought on by the paranoia, loneliness, grief, and alcohol addiction he must also wrestle with. As with my favourite sci-fi/horror, there’s an attempt to base everything in plausible logic and science, which makes the scenario feel all the more unsettling.

The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson

This is a masterful tale of mounting tension, and a great example of the less-is-more approach to the horror genre. There are no cheap jump scares or gory scenes in sight, and yet it creeps beneath your skin and makes you question what is real, and which characters can be trusted. Not only are there some outright creepy moments in which Jackson builds a tangible sense of fear, but the whole book is suffused with an oppressive and ethereal atmosphere that suits the tone of the story perfectly. The plot itself sees four people visiting a notorious manor, determined to prove whether or not its rumoured haunting is real. It’s subtle and nuanced, and explores many interesting themes, but never to the detriment of its ability to unnerve.

Wytches by Scott Snyder

This graphic novel draws on the early mythology of witches to subvert many of the expectations you’d likely have going into a story about them. Forget cauldrons and pointy hats; the beings found herein are of far more monstrous and threatening stock. The accompanying artwork is striking, which serves to enhance the impact of the dark, intense, and disturbing story.

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What reads would you recommend to get into the Halloween spirit?

Let’s Recommend | Dystopian Fiction

Let’s recommend some dystopian fiction.

This time round, I’m going to recommend a few of my favourite dystopian stories. As always with this series, I invite you all to exchange your own recommendations in return.

The Trees by Ali Shaw

Undeniably strange in places, this book is one for those who want to be swept up in a tale that is dark and unsettlingly magical in tone. The story opens when the ground erupts with endless numbers of trees, tearing apart the landscape, displacing people, and ending their way of life as they knew it. We follow a group of four characters as they attempt to understand their new world, and to navigate the now hostile environment, encountering dangers from the people, animals and strange new creatures that now call the forests home. The characters are all complex and flawed; the prose lush and vivid; and the genre-defying story a tapestry of adventure, fantasy, and mythology, whilst also being something of a fable for the modern world.

The Girl With All the Gifts by M.R. Carey

I won’t say much about the plot of this one, to preserve the experience of seeing the truth unfold, but I will say that this book manages to bring a fresh take to a much-explored sub-genre of dystopian fiction. It’s a thrilling read, and yet it poses big questions about what it truly means to be human, and what we are capable of in terms of both compassion and cruelty. It’s brutal at times, and yet always full of heart, with the story itself carried by a fantastically well-realised young heroine.

Bird Box by Josh Malerman

This is one of the most intense, claustrophobic, horrifying and captivating books I’ve ever read. It’s a masterclass in the fear of the unknown, and a fantastic example of the ways an author can toy with our senses to elicit an emotional response. Plot-wise, there is something outside. No one knows what it is or where it came from, but a single glimpse is enough to drive you to insanity and deadly violence. The pacing, plot, characters, and atmosphere are all brilliantly handled, combining to create a haunting tale that has stayed with me so strongly.

The Beauty by Aliya Whiteley

In this ethereal, hypnotic read, women have been wiped out by a fungal infection. Men await inevitable death, exchanging stories of the women they have lost, until a bizarre new species begins to grow from the bodies of the deceased. It is both beautiful and disturbing in equal measure; at once a dark and quietly terrifying dystopian, and a fascinating exploration of gender roles and the importance of storytelling. Through gorgeous prose and a fever dream of events, Whiteley ultimately asks us to question the importance we place on physical beauty in women, and the extent to which man is predisposed to revert to violence.

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What are some of your favourite dystopian novels?

Let’s Recommend | Gothic Fiction

Let’s recommend some gothic fiction

Gothic fiction is perhaps my favourite genre of all, so it feels long overdue that I recommend a few favourites. As always with this series, I invite you all to exchange your own recommendations in return.

Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

This, to me, is the epitome of the gothic genre at its very best. Secrets, lies, intrigue and mystery seep from the pages, as tension builds throughout. The atmosphere is enthralling and utterly immersive, with a sense of something sinister always lurking just beneath the surface. Plot wise, we follow a newly married young woman as she arrives at her husband’s estate, to find that the presence and influence of his deceased first wife still hangs over the house. At face value, it’s a fantastically gripping story, but there’s also so much else going on thematically if you want to dig a little deeper.

We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson

This book explores notions of madness, isolation, sisterhood and othering, in a subtly affecting and deeply unsettling tale of two sisters who have been shunned from society following the strange deaths of their entire family. The narrator is a fascinating character; one that is as delightful as she is disturbed. There is a brewing sense of unease and an otherworldly tone throughout, and understated fairy tale-esque parallels towards the end that are incredibly effective in ramping up the book’s sinister edge.

The Silent Companions by Laura Purcell

This fairly recent addition to the genre features many of the classic components that have made it famous, including an isolated rural setting, a grand manor house, and a heroine out of her depth. In many ways, it could thus be seen as a love letter to the genre. There’s an undertone of witchcraft, and a flirtation between outright ghost story and possible madness in the mind of our protagonist, which I thought worked really well. There’s also a literary flair to the writing and a slight sense of whimsy that suited the tone of the novel, as well as a story-within-a-story structure that was implemented very successfully.

The Book Collector by Alice Thompson

Books, fairy tales, madness and murder – what’s not to love? This tale of obsession raises questions about what it really means to be insane, and explores the warped control that men so often had over women in the narratives of classic fairy tales; all with a deliciously sinister and feminist twist. Thompson’s writing is straight forward, and the story has a good sense of momentum and inevitability, which does well to draw allusions to the masterworks of both fairy tales and gothic literature that this book draws from and celebrates.

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What are some of your favourite gothic reads? Let’s chat about them!

Let’s Recommend | Transgender Books

Let’s recommend some transgender books.

For the latest post in my recommendation series, I’ll be highlighting some of my favourite books to include transgender characters, or to explore trans-issues. With discussion on gender at large very much needed, and the normalisation of difference key in opening up those channels of conversation, I think we could all stand to read about experiences that differ from our own. That said, I tried to include a diverse mix of books that will hopefully appeal to a wide readership; trans, cis, young, old, or otherwise.

Trumpet by Jackie Kay

The subject matter explored in Trumpet could very easily have seen the story slip into undo sensationalism, but the care and compassion that Kay grants the characters stops that from ever happening. The story centres around Joss, a publicly respected musician and family-man who is discovered only upon death to have been biologically female. We see the way various people who knew Joss and members of the public react to the revelation, but at its core, this is a heartfelt story about love. Joss’ widow, Millie, is a fantastically well-realised character, and through her, Kay shows us that we fall in love with a person, not the body they are in. The confusion and bitterness felt by their son is also heavily explored, but from an unexpected angle that I really appreciated.

The Gender Games by Juno Dawson

This is a great piece of own-voice non-fiction from a transgender author who is frank, funny and informative. Dawson mixes fact with personal experience in this quasi-memoir, exploring gender as a concept. This includes looking at the ways we subconsciously force expectations on children from birth (and why this is bad for everyone), and sharing honest stories about her own experiences whilst transitioning. She also touches on the differences she has encountered between living as a man and living as a woman. The book educates without ever bogging you down in stats, and has enough cutting-quips and brilliant pop-culture references to keep you laughing throughout.

The Sunlight Pilgrims by Jenni Fagan

An impending Ice Age forms the backdrop of this quiet, character driven tale that is set in a caravan park in Scotland. It focusses on the lives of three lost souls as they strive to find their place in a world they no longer understand. One of those characters is Stella, a feisty, brave, inquisitive, witty and headstrong trans girl. She forms the nucleus of the whole book, and I thought the looming grip of puberty which will transform her body in ways she fears more than anything was mirrored beautifully in the menacing spread of lethal ice and snow across the landscape. She also has a wonderful relationship with her mother, which is another real highlight of the book.

Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto

As much as it’s important to read books that fully shine the light on trans characters and issues, I think it’s also important that books exist in which trans people (and other minority groups) are simply presented like any other character, in which their gender identity is never the focus or point of the story, and they just so happen to be trans in the spirit of true, reflective diversity. This is very much the case with Eriko in Banana Yoshimoto’s Kitchen. Though she’s a supporting character with a relatively small role, she’s instantly endearing and charismatic. I loved that both her son and the book’s heroine never question her gender identity, and are instead completely laid-back and accepting about it. It’s simply never an issue. This kind of normalisation through fiction is vital.

George by Alex Gino

Seeing yourself reflected in the books you read as a child can be a profoundly powerful experience. That’s why I’m so glad George exists for young trans kids. The premise is simple but highly effective, in that everyone sees George as a boy, but she knows deep inside that she’s really a girl. With the school play of Charlotte’s Web coming up, she figures that securing the role of Charlotte will be the best way to help everyone else see her for who she really is. It’s a touching story for any age, and one that has the kind of power that could change kids’ lives.

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What are some of your favourite transgender books? Let’s chat about them in the comments.