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Light Perpetual by Francis Spufford. We're in Woolworth's. I mean, back when Woolworth's was a thing, and therefore being in one...

Hey, we haven't done one of these for a while (three-and-a-half years or so in fact ), but I was struck by the loose yet funky tune that...

Tokyo Express by Seicho Matsumoto. A man is dead, on a beach. Suspicious? I should bally well say so. Suicide? Yes, but how? Well, surely h...

Today's pair are author Harlan Coben and actor, author, amateur chef and mixologist Stanley Tucci. The only Harlan Coben book I have ...

Clearly I need to be careful about even alluding tangentially to the very existence of The Curse Of Electric Halibut, since my doing so in t...

The Lay Of The Land by Richard Ford. So this is Frank Bascombe. You guys have met before, actually - you might remember, a few years back ....

Fragrant Harbour by John Lanchester. Hong Kong? Phooey ! No, really, it's true. Former British colony, business powerhouse, cultural me...

A Visit From The Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan. Hey, how are you? Come on in, there's some people I want you to meet. So this is Sasha - ...

So, hot on the heels of the stats roundup is another annual thing that I've now saddled myself with: the Books Of The Year thing. I...

Here's the obligatory end-of-year/beginning-of-following-year roundup of blogging activities and the like. Anyone who'd just like th...

Today's pair are my son Huw and 1970s yellow cartoon weirdo Bod . Small skinny-legged person, three-letter name, voluminous upper garmen...

Ice by Anna Kavan. A catastrophe of some sort has occurred, ill-defined but almost certainly the result of a nuclear conflict, and as a resu...