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.

Hidden Pages: Graham Greene and the joy of literary discoveries

I love a literary discovery like the newly found short story by Graham Greene, Reading at Night. It adds an intriguing footnote to a major literary life. Published in Strand Magazine, the piece is a ghost story of sorts—spare, eerie, and lightly comic. It’s a small thing, a curiosity, but it opens up new angles on Greene’s creative instincts.

Dua Lipa and Helen Garner: When pop culture meets literary depth

Dua Lipa’s book club selection of This House of Grief brought Helen Garner’s work into the mainstream spotlight and sparked an unexpected literary ripple. 

Garner’s forensic exploration of a real-life Australian murder case is anything but tabloid. Instead, she writes with quiet precision and moral seriousness.

Publishers and platforms: How Substack, AI & email newsletters are redefining fiction in 2025

In 2025, a quiet transformation is reshaping literary publishing. Authors are increasingly bypassing traditional deals to connect directly with readers via Substack, newsletters, and AI-assisted tools. This shift is not simply about technology. 

It's about creative autonomy, deeper community engagement, and the rediscovery of storytelling on a writer's own terms. In this new ecosystem, fiction finds fresh formats, writers build loyal readerships, and the lines between hobbyist and professional blur in fascinating ways.

The Booker Prize 2025: Subtle power and global resonance

This year's Booker Prize longlist pulses with quiet intensity. From the return of Kiran Desai after a 19-year silence to Maria Reva's striking debut, the list trades fireworks for finesse. That's right up my street.

These are novels of displacement, longing and radical introspection, stories that ask readers to listen closely.

Writing with machines, owning your voice, and where the ethical lines are drawn

We’ve crossed a threshold. What used to be the stuff of speculative fiction is now a line item in the writing process: AI is here, and it’s shaping how we write, revise and even brainstorm.

But with the rise of tools like ChatGPT, Sudowrite and Claude, a wave of questions has followed. If a machine helped shape a chapter, is it still your voice? If it tightened your prose or fed you metaphors, do you owe your reader an explanation? And most fundamentally—how much help is too much?

Burn Bright, Burn Brief —The quiet power of short novels and why less is suddenly more

In a world of infinite scrolling and 800-page epics, something strange is happening, books are shrinking. 

Not in value or complexity, but in size. Novels under 200 pages, long confined to indie presses or experimental shelves, are quietly becoming bestsellers. They’re winning awards. They’re getting second printings. And perhaps most telling of all, readers are finishing them.

The Literary Brat Pack and the birth of 1980s Manhattan Cool

For anyone craving an 80s mood board turned dark, literary statement, you’ve arrived at the right place. Step into 1980s Manhattan, when the city throbbed with neon lights, fast cars, and faster lifestyles, and the emergence of the so-called “Literary Brat Pack”.

Led by Bret Easton Ellis, Jay McInerney, and Tama Janowitz, this trio of young writers provided a fresh, glossy glimpse of urban excess. But beneath the designer clothing and drug-fuelled nights, there was something more: a generational manifesto hidden behind chic minimalism.

Grief, grammar, and the Didion sentence: Rereading The Year of Magical Thinking

For me, few books confront grief with the unflinching clarity of Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking. It is one of my favourite of Didion books and I reread it recently. 

Didion wrote it in the aftermath of her husband’s sudden death; it isn’t a memoir of healing so much as a dissection of loss, precise, restrained, devastating.