The quiet power of slow books

Some novels refuse to be hurried. They ask for patience, not because they’re difficult, but because they move differently. You don’t tear through them. You live in them.

I was thinking about this as I slowly make my way through Lonesome Dove, by Larry McMurtry. It’s that kind of book. There are, of course, plenty of others.

Why we keep coming back to the same books over and over

There are books I’ve read two or three times, and picked up more times. Not out of duty, but from a pull I can’t quite explain. 

They’re not always my favourites in the traditional sense. But they know something about me, or I know something about them. That's the power of rereading. 

Why the Literary western endures — and what’s driving Lonesome Dove’s TikTok resurgence

There’s something quietly electric about Lonesome Dove’s return in the BookTok universe: the dust-swept epics and tender, layered characters suddenly feel urgent again. 

In a time when TikTok scrolls through bite‑sized narratives, this sprawling western reminds us that sometimes we long for horizons—not just on screen, but in story. 

Reading for Joy: How to escape a reading slump and embrace comfort in 2025

It happens quietly. It has happened to me. The pile of unread books grows taller, the will to open one grows thinner, and suddenly reading—this thing we once loved—feels like homework. We tell ourselves we’ll get back to it.

When things slow down. When we’re more focused. When we finally feel smart enough for the Booker-longlisted doorstop. But maybe the way out of a slump isn’t through discipline or guilt. Perhaps it’s a return to softness. To stories that ask nothing of us except to enjoy them. In 2025, perhaps the kindest thing we can do is let reading be easy again.

How to write like Joan Didion

What makes a Joan Didion sentence unmistakable? It’s not only the vocabulary or the rhythm. It’s the control. The precise needlepoint balance between distance and emotion, between clarity and chaos. Her prose doesn’t shout; it slices.

In her best work, Didion captures a moment so cleanly that the emotional aftermath lingers longer than the reading itself. Consider this line from The Year of Magical Thinking:

"Grief turns out to be a place none of us know until we reach it."

Experimental & Alt-Lit movements — When internet culture writes fiction

If you’ve ever found yourself falling down a rabbit hole of Tumblr confessions, TikTok poetry, or a Reddit thread that reads like a novella, you’ll recognise the spirit of alt-lit.

This loose, slippery movement isn’t a genre so much as a sensibility, one that embraces the textures of online life and folds them directly into literature. It’s fiction with its hair mussed up, still smelling faintly of late-night scrolling.

Climate fiction and Neurodivergent narratives — The rise of conscious storytelling

Something’s shifting in the novels. The stories feel sharper somehow, as if they know they’re not just here to entertain. They’re here to nudge us. Sometimes to provoke us. Occasionally, to jolt us out of complacency.

Two trends stand out in this tide of literary urgency: the rise of climate fiction (or “cli-fi” if you like your genres neatly abbreviated) and a richer, more authentic representation of neurodivergent characters. These aren’t new themes in literature, but they are being handled with a depth and immediacy that feels uniquely 2025.

Is fan fiction the new slush pile? What editors are really looking for

There was a time when fan fiction lived in the shadows, tucked into forums, buried in tags, dismissed as derivative, and looked down upon. It wasn’t writing. It was adoration as typing. 

Not anymore. Now, it’s edging toward centre stage, commanding the attention of publishers, agents, and readers alike.

Joan Didion’s packing list and the illusion of preparedness

It’s the holiday season. You’re packing for your trip. There is no better time to revisit this: two skirts. Two jerseys. A bottle of bourbon. This is the famous packing list from The White Album. It is as precise as it is strange. It reads like a ritual, a personal inventory, a whisper of both glamour and dread.

It’s not really about the clothes. It’s about control. About readiness. About who she became when the suitcase clicked shut.

How long before AI writes a Bestseller? A Literary Thought Experiment

How long before AI writes a New York Times bestseller?

It’s a question that lingers like a subplot, unresolved, faintly unsettling, impossible to ignore. Earlier this year, a publishing data analyst sparked headlines by predicting that an AI-written book could top bestseller charts by 2030. 

Emily Henry and the craft of commercial fiction

It’s not just that Emily Henry writes bestsellers. It’s that she writes the kind of commercial fiction people want to reread, smart, emotionally layered romantic comedies that balance character, structure and warmth in just the right proportions. 

As a reader and a fan, I’ve marvelled at how her novels manage to feel both comfortably familiar and quietly profound.

Four debuts that disturb and dazzle: New voices to read now

There is nothing better when it comes to books than discovering a favourite new writer, and this summer has seen the arrival of several striking debut novels that push boundaries, both thematically and stylistically. These are books that disturb, provoke and linger in the mind. They are just the kind of books that will stick with you.

What links them isn’t genre or setting but a willingness to confront discomfort: whether in the body, the family or society itself. These books ask readers to sit with pain and ambiguity, not to solve or resolve it, but to acknowledge it.