Vanishing point

Life has a bad habit of mirroring art. Sometimes, this can be in a deeply sad way. A while after I wrote about the assumption of guilt in a traumatised young woman with poor social skills, I watched a

Novels, for me, have come from somewhere I wasn’t looking. In my twenties I was carrying an idea about a woman wandering around Ireland on a quest she didn’t understand and I sat in the Reading Room o

In a new city, in a new life, Caro Giles wonders if she has at last found home

‘When did he lose her?’ asks Gina. I inwardly roll my eyes at the expression. Matthew didn’t mislay Becky, like a pair of reading glasses or a wallet. She died. I am not a fan of the euphemisms that p

by Lucy Jane Wood (£20, HB, Pan Macmillan) Annie Wildwood works tirelessly to be the perfect witch. As well as running the Celestial Bakehouse, she goes above and beyond to please everyone around her,

It’s been raining for days. I fantasise about ...