Caroline is Writing

a blog by a writer attempting to live the literary good life on the internet
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Reading A Lot, But Differently

What I read in 2024 and what I'm changing for 2025.

I stopped being able to finish books in 2020, about two weeks into the first Covid lockdown. The problem did not go away for years. I forced myself to read for work, but for pleasure skipped from volume to volume, sometimes only perusing a few pages before throwing another one on the reject pile. I wrote about this at the end of 2022, describing what it felt like to lose the ability to read at length, which until then had been for me "as unconscious as breathing".

This was my assessment as to why I could not get to the end of a narrative:

"I think what makes me put a book down and lose all desire to ever pick it up again is a feeling that I should be doing something more worthwhile with my time. Something that will make things better. I cannot articulate what that other activity is, nor have I, in six months of listlessly turning pages, chanced across it. I just know that reading that book, in that moment, is not it."

Last year, 2024, was the first time since then that I could finish books consistently again. A few factors contributed to that:

  1. Therapy, via which I gained a better understanding of how long I had existed in fight-or-flight mode, tethered to my phone because I expected to receive an emergency call every moment.
  2. Publishing my own book, marking the completion of a writing project that had preoccupied me since 2017.
  3. Finally fully accepting the idea that all reading is reading, whether the book is in the form of an audiobook or is (or is not) from a particular genre.
  4. Planning, tracking and reviewing my reading properly for the first time.

It's this last point that I'm focusing on today.

Read on for:

  • My stats for the year, with reflections and analysis.
  • Recommendations for the best books I read.
  • Thoughts about what I'm changing for 2025.

2024 in Review

  • I read 112 books in 2024. See them all here. My goal was 104, or two a week, so I exceeded that comfortably. I started writing monthly reading round-ups in September, so you can get more details of what I read in the last third of the year here.
  • 106 were fiction and 6 were non-fiction.
  • My most-read genre was (unsurprisingly!) crime. The second was romance, followed in a distant third by fantasy.
  • My three most read authors were:
    • Edmund Crispin (9 books)
    • Christianna Brand (6 books)
    • Anthony Gilbert (6 books)
  • Approximately 65 per cent of my reading was done with physical books, 25 per cent via ebooks, and 10 per cent through audiobooks.

Analysis

  • I'm pleased but not especially surprised by how much I read last year. I made some gradual changes (explained here) to how much I was using my phone and I replaced a lot of my mindless scrolling with reading, both by carrying a physical book with me everywhere and by using reading apps on my phone. I don't have the data for this, but I think I picked up the pace through the year as my new habits began to stick and I stopped using Instagram. I remember starting to have the feeling around midsummer that I was excited to finish whatever I was doing so I could get back to reading, which was something I hadn't felt since 2020.
  • The fiction/non-fiction breakdown is a shock. I do look at a lot of non-fiction books for work, but I didn't realise I was reading so few of them cover to cover for pleasure. This feels especially galling given that I have written two non-fiction books myself, and would like to write more.
  • Given my overwhelming preference for fiction throughout this year, it makes sense that I was reading crime more than anything else. There's a reason why I have a podcast dedicated to this genre — I do really like it. And I've long had a romance-reading habit for when I want to relax completely. For fantasy to be registering so highly is slightly startling, but it was a very distant third.
  • My three top authors were all ones that I undertook to read as much of their work in full as possible so I could make a specific type of podcast episode about them. I wrote a little more about this in my November reading update. I'm pleased I did what I set out to do in this regard, but I'll be scaling it back in the future.
  • I have no particular thoughts about the different formats, although I suspect my audio percentage will be higher for 2025 because I've been replacing podcasts with audiobooks recently.

The Best Books I Read in 2024

My ten favourite titles break down like this:

  • nine fiction, one non-fiction
  • nine originally in English, one translated from Japanese
  • of the ten, there are
    • two genuine "golden age" detective novels (from the interwar period or very close to it)
    • two crime novels published in the 2020s, one historical and one contemporary
    • two YA novels (although that term didn't exist when Noel Streatfeild was writing, of course)
    • one more "literary" novel
    • one fantasy novel
    • and one memoir
The Vanishing Corpse by Anthony Gilbert

I read this while making the aforementioned podcast episode about Lucy Malleson aka Anthony Gilbert, and it ended up being one of my favourite golden age crime novels of the year. It even inspired another podcast episode, all about the trope it contains. First published in 1941, it follows the fortunes of an elderly spinster who rents a very isolated cottage, Lolly Willowes-style, thinking that she wants to end her days there. She arrives on a dark and snowy night to find that a dead body is already occupying the cottage, but when she brings the police back to inspect the corpse, it has vanished... I found it creepy and puzzling.

A Novel Disguise by Samantha Larsen

I read this historical novel thanks to a recommendation from my podcast production assistant Leandra. Set in 1784, it concerns the adventures of one Tiffany Woodall, half-sister of a librarian at an aristocratic country house. When said half-brother unexpectedly dies, she secretly buries him in the garden and dons a male disguise so she can go to his job in his place — initially for the money, but later because she becomes too intrigued by what is going on in the Big House to stop her subterfuge. I appreciated that the author had thoroughly researched her period and location, even including an appendix explaining the historical sources and secondary texts upon which she was drawing.

Black Plumes by Margery Allingham

This is one of two books in my top ten that I read because they were selected by the Shedunnit Book Club, which to me is confirmation that book clubs are a force for good in the world. Although Allingham is best known for her long series of novels featuring sleuth Albert Campion, this is a standalone from 1940 about an upper-class family in London who have owned and operated a prestigious art gallery for generations. It's a murder mystery, but it also has a fake engagement subplot (a favourite from my romance reading) and some very astute observations about generational differences between the 19th and 20th centuries. And a detective from Orkney! Tailor-made for me.

A Marvellous Light by Freya Marske

A queer romance set in an alternate version of Edwardian England where magic is real. It felt to me like a close cousin of Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, although — full disclosure — I never actually finished reading that book because I had to return it to the library before I was done. I am very picky about my magic systems and this one satisfied all of my requirements, as well as being a well-written and well-paced adventure story. This is the first of a trilogy and I did read the other two books as well, but neither lived up to the pleasure of the first.

Tokyo Express by Seichō Matsumoto

This was the second book I read because of the Shedunnit Book Club and I liked it so much that I made a bonus episode where I interviewed the translator of the edition I read, Jesse Kirkwood. The novel was originally published in Japan in 1958 and I loved the social history it captures, from the professional etiquette of the police characters to the references to an earlier code of ethics. As the title indicates, the story is primarily about trains. The mystery definitely hails from the "humdrum" school of forensic alibi-breaking with much scrutiny of who was exactly where and when. Usually, I find this less appealing than the more psychology-driven kind of story, but I think this book and a few others have started to change my mind. I found the doggedness of the central detective oddly restful to read about.

Death at Morning House by Maureen Johnson

I had Maureen as a guest on Shedunnit when she was still working on her Stevie Bell novels, which are contemporary-set YA mysteries with a strong hint of 1920s true crime to them (the first being Truly Devious). She kindly sent me a proof copy of this new standalone that involves a 2020s teenager going to live on a tiny island for the summer to be a tour guide for a historic house. They end up uncovering the solution both to a recent crime as well as one that occurred during the Prohibition era. Real page-turning stuff and so well crafted. I read it in two sittings.

Marking Time by Elizabeth Jane Howard

I read three of the five volumes of Howard's Cazalet Chronicles in 2024 and this was by far my favourite. It covers the opening years of WW2, following the fortunes of the Cazalet daughters who were on the cusp of their independent lives when war hit — Louise, Polly, Clary, Nora — and what happens to them instead. Louise's sections are particularly heart-breaking, but the whole thing is so evocative and redolent with suppressed emotion that I still think about it regularly.

A Vicarage Family by Noel Streatfeild

This novel is Streatfeild's thinly-veiled autobiography about her childhood in an Edwardian vicarage. As she explains in the foreword, Vicky, the middle daughter of three children, is her character. She is relentlessly and unfavourably compared by all the adults around her to her artistic invalid older sister and her beautiful, charismatic younger sister. I'd like to think that today some kind teacher or relative would notice that Vicky is starved of love and possibly neurodivergent, but of course there is no such help for her here. I cried when I finished this book, because Noel so clearly succeeded in creating the life she wanted because of all the talents her family refused to recognise in her, and yet because she published this in 1963 when she was 68, I don't think she ever quite got over the way she was treated. And nor should she.

A Radical Romance by Alison Light

The only non-fiction book to make my top ten and possibly the best and most touching memoir I've ever read. I was already a fan of Light's writing because of Common People and Forever England but I'm now a lifelong devotee. A Radical Romance tells the story of her relationship with the historian Raphael Samuel, to whom she was married from 1987 until his death in 1996. He was 20 years older than she was and had lived a completely different kind of life to any that she had known to date, and yet they fit together. From her account, I think they were the living embodiment of what Peter Wimsey means in Gaudy Night when he says: "Anybody can have the harmony, if they will leave us the counterpoint." I cried when I finished this one too. There are many excellent sentences in it I could quote, but I'll just give you this one:

"A person is a crowd as well as an individual and comes not only with a history but with a thickly wooded present and a future lit by hopes and desires."
The Appeal by Janice Hallett

I loved this mystery that is set in an amateur dramatic society and told through emails and messages when I first read it. I stayed up and finished it in a single night, and thought it was wonderful that a bestselling crime writer in the 2020s was reviving the "documents in the case" format that Dorothy L. Sayers had used in 1930. I still think this book is good, which is why I've put it on this list, but the shine has been somewhat taken off for me since by reading Hallett's subsequent books, which all employ the same format to much less success.


Changes for 2025

This is the first time I've been thorough about tracking my reading and reflecting on the results, and been very clear with myself when I'm reading for work and when I'm reading for leisure. I have some ideas based on what I've learned.

Keep Reading

Setting out to read 104 books worked well for me in 2024, so I'm going to stretch myself a little further and aim for 120 this year. Averaging ten books a month feels doable. I like the "pace" feature on the Storygraph which tells you how far ahead or behind your goal you are, so I'll be keeping that on for motivation again. If you would like to follow along in real time, you can see what I'm reading at any given moment on my profile there. Do send me a friend request if you track your reading there too.

Seek Greater Variety

If last year showed me anything, it is that my problem finishing books is now in the past. I completed two books a week without difficulty. But looking through the list of everything I read, it still looks defensive to me, as if I was worried that if I strayed beyond the genres and styles that I was certain to find easy and comforting, I would find myself back in 2020's headspace again. I think that's why I read so little non-fiction and almost no literary or experimental fiction. It was crime fiction, romance, fantasy and YA that helped me recover my ability to read at length again so that's where I stayed, even after it was entirely necessary.

I'm never going to be someone who reads classic and literary fiction all of the time. I like a balanced reading diet. But I used to be someone who read it some of the time, and I'd like to explore that option again. The same goes for non-fiction. Thus, my goal is to read one non-fiction book and one work of literary, classic or experimental fiction a month. I feel most excited about this one, as if I'm opening a door again that has been closed for years. Still reading a lot, but differently. That feels right as my theme for 2025.

Stop Buying New Physical Books

A member of the Shedunnit Book Club recently introduced me to an acronym that is popular in the fibre arts community: SABLE, which means "Stash Acquired Beyond Life Expectancy". This applies to me and physical books — there are probably more in my house right now than I could read with the years left to me even if I had nothing else to do with my time. I'm not going to put myself on a complete book-buying ban, but I'm going to try harder not to bring new physical books into the house. If I want to support a writer with a pre-order, I'll do that with the ebook or audiobook edition, or put the title on hold at the library. I'm a member of three libraries including the London Library, so I'm not short of options to acquire older books to read in a non-permanent way.

Explore Other Forms

I didn't read a single book of poetry, novella, short story collection or play in 2024. That isn't unusual, though, because I've never been much of a reader of these forms (unless you count Sherlock Holmes short stories, I suppose). I'd like to try them out, though, so in the spirit of expanding my literary horizons I'm aiming to read four books this year that are in a form other than the novel.


Links to Blackwell's are affiliate links, meaning that I receive a small commission when you purchase a book there (the price remains the same for you). Blackwell’s is a UK bookseller that ships internationally at no extra charge.

Filed under: blog, monthlywhatIread, newsletterarchive, yearlyreadingreview
3 min read Permalink

We Should Let This Marinate A Bit Longer

Thirteen things this Thursday that I have read, watched, listened to or otherwise found noteworthy.

Welcome to Thursday Thirteen, my weekly digest of links to things I have found interesting and which I think you might be intrigued by as well.

The most popular link last week was this essay about "what the book section likes", with Simone Giertz's house tour a close second.

What I'm up to: Doing my best not to let January 2025 get me down. I made big batches of Priya Krishna's Everyday Dal and Coconut Saag to be my lunches this week and that's been very cheering. The saag is excellent with tofu.


Here are thirteen more things this Thursday that I wanted to share with you:

  1. Did I sign up for the link-sharing site are.na purely because Tavi Gevinson said she liked it in a recent interview? Yes. Do I understand anything about how it works? No. But I am enjoying clicking my way around and this recent editorial about how different the world would be if we all behaved like moss (?) was interesting.
  2. Timely serialised fiction from 1901. The Inheritors was written by Joseph Conrad and Ford Madox Ford and satirises the colonial and aristocratic corruption they observed in the world. It follows a class of "cold materialists" who want to annexe and exploit Greenland.
  3. Lovely writing about a poet's chance rescue of an abandoned kitten in Japan in 1977:
"My cat was called simply Mii. We sometimes nicknamed her Mii-tan, but her formal name was Mii Inaba. I simply couldn’t manage to come up with a better name for her, however hard I tried. Her mew-miimew-mii way of crying that I’d first heard when she was hanging there in the dark had somehow stuck in my heart and wouldn’t go away. And thereafter, whenever I called her name, she would naturally answer me, mii. Mii had decided on her own name with the sound of her cries."
  1. Try not to cry while reading this letter Marie Curie wrote to her dead husband Pierre in her "mourning journal".
  2. It cheers me so much that the band OK Go is still making absurdly over-complicated music videos. This latest one is made up of 64 different takes, screened simultaneously on 64 phones. I will always enjoy the work of people who are willing to do the most.
  1. A poem by a gardener about the contradictions in a formal landscape.
  2. This generator will provide, on each click, a different euphemistic and professionally palatable way to say "hell no". My favourites so far: "That's an interesting perspective for our long-term roadmap" and "We should let this marinate a bit longer".
  3. A behind-the-scenes look at how a longform investigation into a stalker of Asian-American professors made it into print. Working this way is a vanishing luxury most writers today will never get to experience but it's still fascinating to read about.
  4. I'd completely forgotten about the game Battleships, but this online version is the perfect thing to play while on hold to the plumbing company that still hasn't fixed your leaking kitchen tap (just for example).
  5. Browse the peppermills of Jens Quistgaard:
  1. Why is Everyone Suddenly Reading Middlemarch? As a mental defence against the oncoming tide of AI slop, basically.
  2. Mark Zuckerberg will never understand why we don't love him. The gold chain is very funny to me.
  3. There are so many gems in this Trojan horse of a Vanity Fair cover story about Harry and Megan's big relaunch. It seems to be just another celebrity puff piece, but by quoting so many "insiders" verbatim without much comment from the writer, it gradually builds a picture of how unhinged your world becomes when everyone you talk to is your employee (or profiting from you in some other way) and therefore won't tell you "no, that's a stupid idea". For instance, during their ill-fated Spotify deal, "Harry wanted to host a series where he interviewed powerful men with complicated stories, like Mark Zuckerberg, Vladimir Putin, and Donald Trump". This was known internally as "the sociopath podcast" and was predicated on the fact that Harry's mother was "essentially murdered" yet he hadn't turned into a mad strongman. I had to pause reading at this point and stare into space for five minutes while I thought about the ego contortions required to consider that a good or even vaguely executable concept. And that's just the contents of one paragraph.

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4 min read Permalink

It Seems To Produce Moderately Rational Results

Thirteen things this Thursday that I have read, watched, listened to or otherwise found noteworthy.

Welcome to Thursday Thirteen, my weekly digest of links to things I have found interesting and which I think you might be intrigued by as well.

The most popular link last week was this video about the impossibility of time, with this essay about the lie of capsule wardrobes a close second.

What I'm up to: Staying warm, not allowing my dog to murder me by pulling me over on the icy pavements, and thinking about what I want to do with this newsletter in 2025. If you have thoughts on this last one, now is the time to tell me about them.


Here are thirteen more things this Thursday that I wanted to share with you:

  1. Finally, I think I have found (via web curios) an AI/LLM thing that might be useful to me! En allows you to use natural language queries to find books to read. You type in something like "political thriller set in Georgian England" or "epic family saga involving bird watching", and it pulls title suggestions for you. From my experiments so far, it seems to produce moderately rational results (unlike every other AI thingy I've ever tried). For the former prompt, it recommended The Devil in the Marshalsea by Antonia Hodgson and for the latter The Signature of All Things by Elizabeth Gilbert. I haven't read either, but based on some quick searches, both seem to be well-reviewed novels that meet the above criteria. The search engine links to Goodreads, so I suspect it is at least in part using information from reviews there to source titles.
  2. This game, Hexcodle, is so hard yet I am completely addicted to trying to best it. It does require some familiarity with the hex code system for denoting colours. Essentially, it shows you a colour swatch and you have to guess the correct code for it.
  3. The continued resonance of this line — "We are attempting to survive our time so we may live into yours" — from Jimmy Carter's 1977 letter for the Voyager space is beautifully unpacked here:
"The act of writing is ever thus: a reach beyond the limits of one’s own spacetime, searching for a stranger’s hand in the dark. What a vulnerable, cuckoo, romantic thing to do."
  1. The illustrated envelopes of Edward Gorey are gorgeous and I dearly hope someone buys me the whole book as a gift this year.
  1. I'm a fan of inventor Simone Giertz and found this tour of her house very inspiring, both because of all the interesting custom pieces she has made for it and because of the extremely normal level of clean/tidy she maintains.
  2. This is equal parts revealing and alarming, as a writer. A rundown of the literary archetypes that book editors and reviewers like and the ones they don't, and what that's doing to our taste in reading material.
  3. Imagine putting your spade in the soil on an ordinary workday and discovering an enormous intact mosaic from the late third century.
  4. A delightful radio programme: Ian Sansom documents his training process to compete at the 2024 World Paper and Comb Championships.
  5. On the art of Mary Potter and the relief of turning 60. Here is Mary's The Rising Moon from 1942:
The Rising Moon, Mary Potter, 1942 © Ferens Art Gallery. Image: Ferens Art Gallery
  1. There is no such thing as "timeless style".
  2. I don't know if I agree with this or want to do it necessarily, but I am intrigued: the hundred pages a day strategy for maintaining a regular reading habit.
  3. I'm doing a lot of thinking about what I can or should be doing with my life and abilities at the moment. This piece about having a "life project" was very useful to me:
"I have noticed that my favourite creative people — whether it’s Rebecca Solnit or Ada Limón, Ta-Nehisi Coates or Miranda July, Mimi Tempestt or Richard Powers, Jenny Odell or Valerie June, Ross Gay or George Saunders — are engaged in a life project, each work a piece of some whole. Their books or poems or Instagram posts gather force from this larger system of thought, action, and intensity. And in any case: doesn’t it seem useful to search out the guidewires and mycorrhizal networks underlying your creative life?"
  1. Some good tips for learning Japanese (or any language) beyond Duolingo. You should read the full piece, but it can be boiled down to "get some books, one of which should explain grammar to you in a way you can understand".

I'm writing this in my free time, but if you would like to support my work, you have a few options. Forward this newsletter to a friend and encourage them to sign up. Subscribe to my podcast, Shedunnit, in your app of choice, or if you are already a listener, become a member of the Shedunnit Book Club. Buy my books — The Way to the Sea and A Body Made of Glass — or borrow them from your local library. Purchase a subscription for yourself or a friend to The Browser. Thank you for reading.

Until next time,

Caroline

Links to Blackwell's are affiliate links, meaning that I receive a small commission when you purchase a book there (the price remains the same for you). Blackwell’s is a UK bookseller that ships internationally at no extra charge.

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3 min read Permalink

When I Need To Be Reminded That There Is More

Thirteen things this Thursday that I have read, watched, listened to or otherwise found noteworthy.

Welcome to the first proper "Thursday Thirteen" of the year. This is a weekly digest of links to things I have found interesting and which I think you might be intrigued by as well.

Last week's list was slightly different — thirteen small life changes rather than links — but it is still worth noting that the most popular thing for people to click on was my date stamp, with the silly chair coming second.

What I'm up to: Getting back into a routine after being away, doing two loads of laundry a day, and knitting my first-ever pair of socks (the Elizabeth Carter stockings by Kate Davies, for the knitters among you). The first Shedunnit episode of the year went out yesterday, too — it's a "reading through the decades" one spanning 1925-2015, so do dip into that if you need some inspiration for new crime fiction to try. Also, I am thrilled to share that A Body Made of Glass was picked by critic Sarah Ditum for a "favourite books of the year" list in the Sunday Times. This cheered me right up at the end of 2024 as I was reflecting on the publishing process.


Here are thirteen more things this Thursday that I wanted to share with you:

  1. A very funny account of what it's like to be the person who does voiceovers for adverts.
  2. The Anti Tag Cloud tool represents a literary text by showing the most common English words that don't appear in that book. Pride and Prejudice, for instance, doesn't feature much mention of "blood", "faith" or "government".
  3. Katherine Rundell's series of The Essay about magic in children's fiction was a dose of pure delight delivered in five fifteen-minute episodes.
  4. Jen A. Miller's annual freelancing wrap-ups should be required reading for anyone who wants to earn their living by exchanging words for money. The latest edition highlights just how difficult it is to make what most people think is "writing" — that is, contributing articles to publications they have heard of like the New York Times — your full-time job as a freelancer. Jen is a very successful and experienced writer who has been doing this for two decades, and last year only two per cent of her income came from consumer publications. That's partly a reflection of the state of journalism and partly owing to her (very smart!) decision to become "extremely choosy in deciding when I’m going to put myself through the wringer of a consumer publication process".
  5. Four minutes of musical intensity, courtesy of Shoshana Bean and Cynthia Erivo (and Taylor Swift). I like to imagine this is the only take they did of this.
  1. I'm warning you now, I was crying by the time I finished reading this piece about the trial of Dominique Pelicot. It is extremely good and very upsetting.
  2. The best British podcast ever to exist, Answer Me This, is coming back!!! If you, like me, got through most of the 2010s by listening to Helen and Olly, you must join their new Patreon.
  3. I need to hear this all the time, but especially at this time of year when I am inclined to get rid of everything I own: A Capsule Wardrobe Won’t Save You.
  4. I've never related to a video on the internet harder.
  5. Writing advice: sometimes it is good to tell rather than show, or "turn off the TV in your mind". You don't necessarily need to describe what every character is wearing!
  6. I am old enough to remember when DJ Earworm was Spotify Wrapped. Enjoying this year's offering, I was inclined to think that was a better time, too. His mashups of the most popular songs from each year are a genuine creative output all of their own, and I can still hum the melody from the 2009 one.
  1. My sort of place: Italian village forbids residents from becoming ill.
  2. Originally written about films, but applicable to every discipline, I look at "Against Lists" by Elena Gorfinkel when I need to be reminded that there is more to culture, criticism, even life, than... what I'm doing here:
"Lists pretend to make a claim about the present and the past, but are anti-historical, obsessed with their own moment, with the narrow horizon and tyranny of contemporaneity. They consolidate and reaffirm the hidebound tastes of the already heard."

I'm writing this in my free time, but if you would like to support my work, you have a few options. Share this to a friend. Subscribe to my podcast, Shedunnit, in your app of choice, or if you are already a listener, become a member of the Shedunnit Book Club. Buy my books — The Way to the Sea and A Body Made of Glass — or borrow them from your local library. Purchase a subscription for yourself or a friend to The Browser. Thank you for reading.

Filed under: Links, blog, newsletterarchive
6 min read Permalink

It Probably Shouldn't Be All I Have In My Head

I've been mostly offline for the last 10 days, so I have not yet accumulated enough good links to share with you as I usually try to do on Thursdays. However, since this is the time of year when we think a bit more than usual about self-improvement and resolutions, I thought I might share a list of thirteen very small things I've been doing over the past 12 months and intend to continue doing. These are activities or habits that have brought me joy, given me a release from stress or expectation, or simply kept me entertained. They are, of course, specific to me, but perhaps you will find a spark of inspiration below for your own version.


  1. Cut open your skincare tubes. If your cream or serum comes in toothpaste tube-style packaging, it is not finished when you think it is finished. Cut or tear off the end that isn't the cap and you will be horrified at how much product you were about to throw away. I sometimes get another week's worth of applications out of my moisturiser, for instance, by progressively cutting my way down the tube as I empty it.
  2. Really commit to a task system. Whether you write your to-do lists on bits of paper, in a journal, on your phone, in an app — it doesn't matter. Pick one system and stick with it so that it can help you. After years of wanting to be someone who used paper lists but was always losing them, I finally moved everything into the Todoist app and made my peace with its digital-ness. More than twelve months later, I'm reaping the rewards of tasks I set to repeat "every year": I'm buying birthday presents in good time and remembering to get seasonal clothes out of storage.
  3. The jar of cleaning tasks. I have struggled with cleaning my whole adult life: I need a clean space to feel mentally calm, but I have found it impossible to develop a consistent routine that keeps spaces clean. After learning more about neurodivergence and where I fit into those spectrums (thanks, therapy), I realised that I need novelty and urgency to do things like this. I experimented with a jar containing a dozen slips of paper, each with a different cleaning task written on it. Every day, I would pull out a slip and do that task immediately. Not knowing what I was going to do beforehand somehow made it exciting, and I did more cleaning during this period than in the entire month beforehand. Now I have created a digital "jar" of cleaning tasks in an app that pulls a random one for me every day and I weirdly look forward to learning whether I will be cleaning windows or hoovering or whatever else.
  4. Having two phones. This one is quite specific to my job. In 2024 I increasingly found social media to be a corrosive force in my life, but I felt unable to quit it completely because I needed a way to tell people about my books, podcasts, articles etc. I was stuck in an endless-feeling cycle of installing the Instagram app, scrolling guiltily, and then deleting the app again. Then I listened to this podcast episode from Emma Chamberlain in which she describes balancing her needs as someone who works online with her desire to end her internet addiction by having two phones. She describes how the "good phone" contains all the normal things she needs and wants for her day-to-day life like maps, music, podcasts, texts, and so on, while the "bad" phone has all the necessary but addictive stuff on it like social media. The latter stays in a drawer switched off until she needs to post something for work, and it goes back there once she is finished. I dug out an old phone, paid a few quid to get the cracked screen mended, and set up a similar system for myself. I use the Freedom app to stop myself from installing the bad stuff on the good phone and now spend almost no time at all having thoughts that automatically take the form of tweets or Instagram captions, which was a disturbing habit I had picked up. It's alarming how quickly the basic friction of having to walk to a drawer and turn another device on releases you from the impulse to "just have a quick scroll".
  5. Mentally divesting from social media. This was helped greatly by having two phones, see above, but even before I did that I had begun trying to separate my mind from the algorithmic hivemind. I work by myself in silence most of the day and I had begun to notice that when my husband came home from work my conversation with him was about 90 per cent "I saw a TikTok today that said..." and "have you watched this funny video of a dog". Now, some of that is fine, but it probably shouldn't be all I have in my head. I'm trying to feed myself a diet of audiobooks rather than podcasts, longform videos or television episodes instead of "shorts", and books instead of articles — the improvement was noticeable straight away.
  6. Searching for apps on your phone instead of scrolling menus. I'm sure you have sensed a theme here: I've been working on my relationship with my devices quite a bit. I can't speak to all phone makes and models, but on my Google Pixel I have turned off every possible automatic recommendation option for apps and websites, and set the browser homepage to a blank screen. Now when I want to do something on my phone, I pick it up and start typing the name of the app I want, and it filters the menu until I'm only seeing "Whatsapp" or whatever it is I want. This stops me scrolling past the tempting icons of distracting apps and keeps me on track with the task I originally wanted to complete. If you find yourself picking up your phone a lot and then putting it down 15 minutes later with no memory of what you wanted it for in the first place, I recommend trying this. It feels clunky for the first few days but the new habit forms quickly.
  7. Getting a silly chair. My back hurts a lot and I have terrible posture from working slumped over all the time, but I don't have space in my house to get one of those fancy up-down standing desks. So I got a backless kneeling chair off Facebook Marketplace (like this one, but a fraction of the price!) instead. It has helped.
  8. Never going anywhere without a book. I mean, literally anywhere. If I'm not going to look at my phone unless I have something I need to do on it, I require other ways to keep myself amused. Cultivating a collection of small books that fit in any coat pocket or handbag means you never have to be bored while queuing or waiting.
  9. Having a really big e-reader. I know some people use a Kindle or similar for the above purpose — a portable reading-only device that they can whip out for entertainment during any in-between moments. I, however, find the small screens on most of these frustrating. I like to see a whole page at a time, like in a physical book or journal. Two years ago now I invested in a BOOX Note Air2 Plus e-ink tablet and I still use it every day. It's slightly smaller than A4, satisfying my size requirements, and it has the advantage of being a black-and-white Android tablet so you can install all the library and reading apps (including Kindle) rather than being locked into one company's ecosystem.
  10. Reading email newsletters via RSS. I refuse to get the Substack app but was finding that I was missing newsletters in the sinkhole that is my inbox. I use Feedly as my feed reader when I'm working on The Browser and have now switched my newsletters into a folder there too. For most, you can just paste in the publication's url and it will automatically find the feed, and for those that require an email subscription (eg those you pay for) it can generate an address to use so they show up in the reader too.
  11. Be who you are, aesthetically. My tiny cupboard-office is papered with a 1920s wallpaper featuring pigeons and my laptop is covered in stickers of my dog's face. Neither is especially chic or "Instagrammable", but they make me happy every time I see them. Find whatever your version of this and pursue it, regardless of fashion or expectation.
  12. Stop checking the news every five minutes. For me, this is a hangover of my time as a journalist in a newsroom, but I've encountered it in non-media types too, and it took me a long time to unlearn this. Unless you work in breaking news or similar field, you don't need to look at the BBC News homepage (or your equivalent) every five minutes. It's fine to find out about world events a few hours after they happen, via a radio or TV bulletin or a longer written report. In fact, you'll probably get better quality information this way because enough time will have elapsed for it to have been gathered.
  13. Get the thing you need to do the thing. However inconsequential or silly it feels. And as long as it is affordable, of course. I'll give you an example: I wanted to write in a notebook every day, but I didn't like the thin paper or tight lines of the one I had designated for the purpose. I also found the area at the top of each page for the date annoying because it was too small for my beloved date stamp. I persisted for months, hating the experience of doing this thing I wanted to do, before I eventually snapped and spent about £15 on exactly the notebook I had wanted all along. Now I write in it every day and positively grin when I get to stamp the date at the start of every session. I think the lesson here might be that sometimes you don't have to tough it out just for the sake of doing so — if some friction can be easily and cheaply smoothed over without expending extra willpower, you can just do that. It isn't cheating.

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8 min read Permalink

Moon, Mice, Mystery: What I Read in December 2024

We have arrived at the final monthly reading record of 2024. I posted these updates for the final third of the year (see them all here). I found it a useful prompt to pay more attention to which books I read cover to cover and which I don't. I hope you found some value in it too, either as a way of finding new titles to try or as a means of comparing your opinions with mine. I plan to keep doing this through 2025, so all being well in twelve months we'll have an entire year to review together.

Sitting down to put this post together, I felt sure I had barely read anything this month. For the first half of the month I was very focused on getting enough podcasts recorded ahead that I could take the Christmas period off, and then once I started my break I have mostly been knitting, cooking and eating rather than reading. My records (aka my Storygraph profile) proved me wrong, though.

The books listed below are ones that I read in their entirety, either for pleasure, for a book club, or as part of a longer-term project. I skim a lot of others or read portions of them as I'm working on articles and podcast scripts, but I'm not counting those as fully "read". I'm presenting them in the order I read them throughout the month. If you'd like to see previous posts in this series, they're available here.


The Christmas Appeal by Janice Hallett

I said in my November reading update that I had read too many Janice Hallett books in quick succession and had thus killed my enthusiasm for her "documents in the case" style. I did not heed my own advice and lay off her for a while; I in fact read another one, this time the festive-themed novella she published in 2023. Unfortunately I did not find any of the qualities here that made her 2021 debut one of my most absorbing reading experiences this year.

This is billed as a "sequel" to that book, picking up again with some of the same characters and the same amateur dramatics group. In atmosphere and plot, though, the two books are not at all alike. There was little tension here as an obvious mystery with low emotional stakes unfolded. The adept plotting that I perceived in that first title was nowhere to be seen. This felt to me like a book that was turned around quickly to hit the Christmas book-buying market or perhaps to fulfil a contract, rather than something the author passionately wanted to write for its own sake. I must not read another Janice Hallett book for at least a year! Absence might make my heart grow fonder.


The Paddington Mystery by John Rhode

This is the Shedunnit Book Club's chosen read for January, selected because it was published a hundred years ago, in 1925. This slender mystery is set in two London neighbourhoods that were rather down-at-heel in the aftermath of WWI — Paddington in the west and Clerkenwell in the east. A young man returns home after a frustrating night out and discovers a dead body on his bed. This person seems to have swum across the nearby canal, climbed in through the upper-storey window and then expired. Already shunned by his friends and family for his disreputable lifestyle, the young man is quickly condemned by all as a murderer. Only a peculiar professor, Dr Priestley, believes in his innocence.

John Rhode (real name Cecil Street) was a ridiculously prolific author in the first half of the twentieth century. The Paddington Mystery was the first of over 70 books he wrote featuring Priestley, and he had two other pseudonyms/detectives as well. If we imagine a progression from Sherlock Holmes to Hercule Poirot, then R. Austin Freeman's Dr Thorndyke and Rhode's Dr Priestley are the two most important stepping stones in between. I'm not sure I have the stomach to read dozens, but I certainly found this one a light and pleasant read.


Half a Soul by Olivia Atwater

For reasons that I hope will become clear in 2025, I am looking at a lot of historical fantasy at the moment. This is the opening title in a "Regency Faerie" trilogy and centres on a young woman who has part of her soul removed by an evil fae lord when she is a child. Years later she goes to London with her cousin for the season and various adventures ensue. Scissors, as you may be able to tell from the cover, are very important to the plot.

I was disappointed in this book. I generally have a pretty high tolerance for Regency anything, but the thin characterisation and poor development of magical lore frustrated me. "Faerie stuff" is a huge segment of fiction publishing at the moment, although I have yet to see the appeal myself. I tried reading the first A Court of Thorns and Roses book a while ago and was simply baffled by the supposed appeal of a misty, poorly described realm where everything and nothing happens over many hundreds of pages. Maybe I just haven't found the right faerie book yet...


The Holy Thief by Ellis Peters

The first Cadfael book, A Morbid Taste for Bones, is still by far my favourite one in the series. Partly this is because I first read it while staying at Winifred's Well, a beautiful cottage in a location significant to the story, and partly because I like a historical novel to feature some religiously motivated hijinks. I found this new-to-me nineteenth instalment in the series at a secondhand book sale and enjoyed it very much because it acts as a sequel to the events of that first book. The remains of Saint Winifred were brought from Wales to Shrewsbury Abbey at the start of the series, and in this one, her reliquary goes on a madcap cross-country journey involving theft, highwaymen, and pot-stirring nobility. Great fun.


Landline by Rainbow Rowell

I picked up this book in a library sale because I love another of Rowell's early 2010s novels: Attachments, about the workers at a local paper in Nebraska at the end of 1999. Emails play a central role in that plot, so I was intrigued to try another Rowell book that put a piece of ye olde tech — this time, landline phones — at the heart of a story.

This one didn't wow me in the same way as Attachments, which I have re-read multiple times and regularly recommend to journalist friends who feel nostalgic for the pre-internet newsroom. Landline is about an overwhelmed TV writer, Georgie, and her husband Neal, a stay-at-home dad, and their marital difficulties. Georgie needs to stay in LA to work over Christmas on a career-making pitch, messing up their festive plans. Neal takes their kids to visit his mother across the country anyway and seems to be ignoring all of Georgie's calls. Except she can call a version of him from the past via the landline in her old bedroom at her mother's house, where she lived when they were first dating long distance. Without wishing to spoil the ending for anyone who might read this, I'll just say that I felt that the promise of this intriguing premise was not fulfilled.


Moon Over Soho by Ben Aaronovitch

Continuing with my audiobook project that I'm mentally nicknaming "Background Ben (Aaronovitch)". I found new things in this repeat encounter with the second title in the Rivers of London series, which was a nice surprise. I had completely forgotten about the moral qualms protagonist Peter Grant expresses about the way the Met in this slightly mystical version of the world polices non-human magical creatures. The philosophical debate about it at the end of the book is interesting and the ending is moving.


A Case of Mice and Murder by Sally Smith

This was a Christmas present from my husband. It's always such a treat to receive a nicely-produced hardback edition of a new novel under the tree. I had no prior knowledge of this author or book, but judging by the fact that I had finished it by 26th December, I think we can say that it made a favourable impression.

This is a mystery set in 1901 in the Inner Temple, the ancient and peculiar community of lawyers in the City of London. I used to work in an office just outside the Temple's gates, ate my lunch in their gardens all the time and regularly sang in the church there, so I found the familiar milieu delightful.

The reluctant detective is one of the Inner Temple's resident barristers, who has a pathological love of routine. When he stumbles across the murdered body of the Lord Chief Justice on his office steps early one morning, his cosy Edwardian lawyerly life is utterly disrupted. The "mouse" of the title, by the way, refers to one of his ongoing cases, in which he is defending the publisher of a children's book about such a creature.

One of the blurbs on this book referred to it as "Shardlake meets Rumpole", and I will second this as an accurate description. Sally Smith is herself a KC at the Inner Temple, which I think helps with the vivid rendering of the setting and its atmosphere. I note that there is already a sequel slated for July 2025, so I will watch what she does with interest. (Although given my intention to lay off buying new books next year as far as possible — more on this in a "reading plans for 2025" post soon — I might have to hope that I get a similar gift under the tree next Christmas!)


Mystery in the Channel by Freeman Wills Crofts

Freeman Wills Crofts is a bit hard done by as a writer of interwar detective fiction, I think. The later critic Julian Symons lumped him into a subgenre he called "the Humdrums" and Crofts' literary reputation has never really recovered from this insinuation that his work is profoundly boring. He does indeed place a lot of emphasis on train timetables and exact journey times as a way of ruling suspects in or out of a case, but his novels are not dull.

It wasn't until I got stuck into this 1931 story about a double murder discovered aboard an otherwise unmanned boat in the channel that I finally realised why I find Crofts a restful writer to read. It's because his books showcase competence above all else: his detective, Inspector French, is quietly excellent at his job and goes about it in a very persistent manner. It's just nice sometimes to read a well-written linear narrative about someone capably sorting out a mess.


That was my reading for December: eight books, bringing me to a final total of 111 for the year. I easily passed my goal of reading 104 books in 2024 (or two a week). I'll be writing a look back at the whole year soon, with a few recommendations of the best things I read as well as some thoughts about how I'm going to read in 2025.

If you would like to follow along in real time, you can see what I'm reading at any given moment on the Storygraph. I just use that as a tracker, though, I don't publish any reviews there.

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8 min read Permalink

Ben, Brat, Bruce: What I Read in November 2024

Dear friends,

I aim to send out my monthly reading digests as soon as each month is over, but this one has just sat at the bottom of the to-do list, stubbornly resisting my efforts, for 20 days now. But finally, I have made it! It's the shortest day of the year, it's been dark since 3pm, and there's a huge gale blowing outside, but at least I've finally done this.

Casting my mind back to November... This was a very busy month of reading for work, as I tried to claw my way back from always being behind with new episodes of my podcast. One of the things listeners tell me they like about Shedunnit is how deeply researched it is, and I set myself very high standards for how much I will read about any given subject before I consider publishing anything on it myself. That's all fine, but it does make the lead time for every episode very long and catching up after a break or an illness is quite hard.

One writer dominated this month, for entirely predictable reasons, with four of the books I read being by or about them. I had set myself the goal this year of making four podcast episodes about "lesser-known" writers of early twentieth-century detective fiction, for which I would read all (or nearly all) of their work in preparation. I'm pleased with the four episodes that resulted from this project, but it was A Lot. They are, if you would like to explore them yourself, Lucy, Anthony and Anne about Anthony Gilbert, The Mystery of A.A. Milne, Christianna Brand's Impossible Crimes, and latterly Edmund Crispin's Inside Jokes.

A reminder: the books listed below are ones that I read in their entirety, either for pleasure, for a book club, or as part of a longer-term project. I skim a lot of others or read portions of them as I'm working on articles and podcast scripts, but I'm not counting those as fully "read" for this purpose. I'm presenting them in the order in which I read them throughout the month. If you'd like to see previous posts in this series, they're available here.


Rivers of London by Ben Aaronovitch

I got out of my months-long audiobook rut thanks to a suggestion from a newsletter reader to try the Rivers series in this format. I read the books in print and ebook form a couple of years ago, but Kobna Holdbrook-Smith's narration gave me a whole new level of appreciation for the world. This first book has a fair amount of exposition, what with there being both a system of magic to outline and a pantheon of divinities to introduce, but it never drags. I'm now on the library app waiting list for several of the subsequent titles as audiobooks too, and I'll be keeping one on the go whenever possible to keep me from making depressing podcasts my default background chatter again.


Buried for Pleasure, The Long Divorce and The Glimpses of the Moon by Edmund Crispin

I've put these three together because that's the way I remember them, as one great mass of quips and clues. I had good intentions of spacing out my reading of all nine of Edmund Crispin's detective novels throughout the year before writing my Shedunnit episode about them for November publication, but I didn't manage it. I ended up having to do these final three as audiobooks at the fastest speed I could bear (1.45x) in order to get them all "read" in time. I don't recommend consuming any books this way if you want to enjoy them. I think I liked Buried for Pleasure best, which is the one where Crispin's detective Gervase Fen runs in a parliamentary by-election and then decides, last minute, that he despises democracy and all who sail in her.


The Examiner by Janice Hallett

Alongside my grimly rapid reading of books for work this month, I turned to some lighter relief when I had the opportunity to switch off my brain. My library hold on the newest Hallett finally came good and I enjoyed this mystery set among the students and academics on a dubious-sounding postgraduate art course. It is once again presented in her trademark "documents in the case" style, but it lacked some of the wow factor of her first one, The Appeal, which I read in a single night back in September. I also had to text a friend to help me clarify my thoughts on the ending, which is never a great sign.


Crazy Rich Asians by Kevin Kwan

More comfort reading! I enjoyed the film adaptation a few years ago, so thought I would try the book. It made for pleasant, quick reading, but I think this might be a rare situation where I preferred the screen version. The changes the screenwriters made to streamline the plot were good and spending more time in the heads of ultra-rich characters didn't make me more inclined to sympathise with them.


The Mysterious Case of the Alperton Angels by Janice Hallett

I made the mistake of reading too many Janice Hallett books too close together, I think. I blame the unpredictable nature of the library hold system. Once again, this is done as a series of documents and messages, this time revealing an ongoing investigation being conducted by a true crime author. Some of the cynical jokes about the publishing industry made me chuckle, but the cult-based plot felt completely detached from reality. When the gimmick is realism, via the "real" messages and sources, the events need to match in tone. I think this format might have run its course — Hallett needs to break into something else, soon, or she will be stuck writing these until they flop irrevocably.


China Rich Girlfriend by Kevin Kwan

The cross-cultural romance in Crazy Rich Asians was plausible. The nuances that were teased out between a Singaporean-Chinese man and a Chinese-American woman were interesting. This sequel, in which said woman is found to be related to a Chinese-Chinese billionaire, jumped the shark about thirty pages in. I did still read it all, mostly because it required very little effort and I was still feeling a bit disorientated from absorbing so much information about Edmund Crispin in such a short space of time. I'm not in a hurry to read the final part of this trilogy, Rich People Problems.


Who Killed the Curate? by Joan Coggin

This is the Shedunnit Book Club's chosen book for December. Published in 1944 but set in 1937, it follows the fortunes of one Lady Lupin, a ditzy debutante who falls in love with a vicar, marries him, moves to a country parsonage and then has to reinvent herself as the moral and feminine centre of the community. If that wasn't enough, the parish curate gets himself murdered on Christmas Eve. Lupin takes it upon herself to solve that problem too, while hosting a seasonal house party of friends and family. Not to everyone's taste, this frothy style, but as a lover of E.M. Delafield and P.G. Wodehouse, I liked it a lot. There are three more books about Lupin's adventures, and I will be looking out for them with interest.


Brat Farrar by Josephine Tey

I recorded something for BBC Radio 4 about this novel part way through the month, so dashed through a quick re-read to refresh my memory. Every time I read a Josephine Tey book I think "this is the best one, I'm sure", and it happened again. So spare, so emotional, so tense, so spooky — there are such hidden depths to this deceptively simple tale of an inheritance scam that works too well. It's based on the Tichborne Claimant case from the 1860s (also the basis for Zadie Smith's recent novel The Fraud) but is updated for the late 1940s. Is this now my favourite Tey, eclipsing The Franchise Affair? I will have to seriously consider this. I'll share the link to the programme when it goes out in a couple of months, as I think other people are talking in it too so it will be a richer analysis.


Bruce Montgomery/Edmund Crispin: A Life in Music and Books by David Whittle

This scholarly biography of Edmund Crispin was something that I started out using as reference material for my episode about him. I got sucked into reading it cover to cover, though, because of the thoroughness of its research and the long quotations from letters written by Philip Larkin and Kingsley Amis (all three were close friends from their student days). They were just so horrible about him, sometimes with provocation, but often not. It made me wonder what this kind of book might be like in fifty years. Will a biographer be able to excavate all the Whatsapps where this kind of material lives now, or will our sniping be lost to history? I'm not sure which outcome is better, honestly.


There we have it, my reading for November. For those who are interested in the data, that was eleven books, bringing me to a total of 103 for the year. So close to my goal for the year of reading 104 books (or two a week). If you would like to follow along in real time, you can see what I'm reading at any given moment on the Storygraph. I just use that as a tracker, though, I don't publish any reviews there.

I'll try to do a December post in a more timely fashion as well as some broader reflection on what I read over the whole year. If you have any feelings about the timings or formats of those posts, let me know.

Thanks for reading this far. If you would like to adjust what kinds of posts you receive from me, you can do that in your account menu. To get in touch, reply to this email.

Until next time,

Caroline

Links to Blackwell's are affiliate links, meaning that I receive a small commission when you purchase a book there (the price remains the same for you). Blackwell’s is a UK bookseller that ships internationally at no extra charge.

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4 min read Permalink

The Background Nun Playing The Violin

Thirteen things this Thursday that I have read, watched, listened to or otherwise found noteworthy.

Dear friends,

Thank you very much for all the kind responses to my appearance on Fresh Air last week. It meant a lot, sincerely, to have so many strangers tell me they were proud of me.

If you do ever want to talk to me, you can just reply to this email. The most popular link last time was "Wordle and I Are Breaking Up", with "Help, I'm The Loneliest Person In The World!" coming a close second.

What I'm up to: I released my fifth Christmas-themed episode of Shedunnit this week. I am as surprised as you are that I still have things to say about festive murder mysteries. And for the small number of people who like my monthly reading updates, I promise the long-overdue November one will be with you in the next day or so. If you don't currently get those in your inbox and you would like to, toggle on "Reading Updates" in your account menu.


Here are thirteen more things this Thursday that I wanted to share with you:

  1. It feels like List Season has started early this year. I blame Spotify Wrapped, which was at best underwhelming and at worst terrifying for the glimpse behind the AI-generated curtain that it offered. However, I did like this list of "The New Rules Of Media" from the anti-algorithmic publication One Thing. It opens with this, which as a person who tries/is trying to share work with people on the internet felt a little too real:
Everything is a personality cult, and maybe just a cult. You have to cultivate your own, no matter how small. To do so you must always be relatable, but also ideally aspirational. Just don’t get too out of the reach of your cultists.
  1. It turns out, some people (Margaret Thatcher?) are just genetically wired to need less sleep than me, a person who feels exhausted if she doesn't get 8.5 hours a night. Join me in finding them both despicable and fascinating.
  2. Maybe you need to hear this: You don’t actually have to stay on Twitter.
  3. One of the greatest things the internet has ever done is rehabilitate the reputation of Baroness Schraeder from The Sound of Music, mostly via that incredible McSweeney's piece from 2011. Now, comedian and songwriter Riki Lindhome has taken the lore one step further by rewriting "So Long, Farewell" to be from the Baroness's perspective. Her performance video is pitch-perfect, right down to the smallest details of the costume and the background nun playing the violin:
  1. This was interesting: Anne Helen Petersen's "Brief Theory of the Modern Gift Guide" holds that we have all retreated so far into our personality-based niches that mainstream recommendation sites like Wirecutter can no longer adequately serve us.
Photo: Sandy Duthie
  1. Sandy Duthie, pictured above, thinks he landed his new job as a solo lighthouse keeper on a remote Australian island because of his enormous beard. I agree with him.
  2. Why have I only just learned of the BBC Micro Games Archive? I spent a very happy hour the other day playing "Roman Adventure", a text-based game I last saw on a terminal in my primary school in 1994.
  3. Speaking of games, I'm intrigued by "Short Trip", a recently-released illustrated game with a most charming summary — "The cats living along the mountain railway have places to be. You, the sole cat operating the tram, have the delightful duty of transporting them." Here's the trailer:
  1. The train nerd in me enjoyed perusing this performance report that highlights Europe's best and worst train operators on several different factors. To nobody's surprise, the three most costly operators (Avanti, Eurostar and GWR) are in the UK.
  2. Back in September, I finished reading A Radical Romance by Alison Light, a memoir about her marriage to the historian Raphael Samuel. Delving more into Samuel's work after I finished led me to the History Workshop movement. Their website has one of the most interesting "books to read" lists I've seen yet this year, themed as it is around "radical" approaches to memoir, science, craft and more. I added The Subversive Stitch: Embroidery and the Making of the Feminine by Rozsika Parker to my to-be-read list so fast after perusing this list.
  3. A victim explains a new type of scam he experienced: a "spamalanche", where the scammer signed him up for hundreds of email mailing lists hoping to conceal the notifications of unauthorised purchases made with his stolen credit card number.
  4. I nodded vigorously through Celine Nguyen's first-year review of her newsletter, personal canon. Even as I've just been gently easing myself back into newslettering the past couple of months I've had several readers ask me for tips on how to do this, and I think in future I will just direct everyone to this post. It's far more comprehensive and helpful than I could ever be. To whit:
"My high-level advice — which supersedes everything below — is that you should decide what you want from your writing, and then completely ignore any advice which detracts from this goal."
  1. Self-explanatory: pics of people taking pics.

I send a few different types of post as part of this newsletter: personal essays, reading updates and book reviews, reflections on my own writing, and links round-ups like this one. If you would like to receive some but not all of these, you can adjust those settings in your account menu.

I'm writing this in my free time, but if you would like to support my work, you have a few options. Forward this newsletter to a friend and encourage them to sign up. Subscribe to my podcast, Shedunnit, in your app of choice, or if you are already a listener, become a member of the Shedunnit Book Club. Buy my books — The Way to the Sea and A Body Made of Glass — or borrow them from your local library. Purchase a subscription for yourself or a friend to The Browser. Thank you for reading.

Until next time,

Caroline

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4 min read Permalink

As An Unsuccessful Teenage Oboist...

Thirteen things this Thursday that I have read, watched, listened to or otherwise found noteworthy.

Dear friends,

You find me fully in the grip of what I call The December Delusion, in which I believe I can definitely get a lot of work done ahead so I can take time off over Christmas while also going to social events, doing a choir performance most nights, getting all the gifts bought, and sending Christmas cards. My best wishes to all those who also celebrate this annual event.

If you ever want to talk to me, you can just reply to this email. The most popular link last time was whichcountrytomoveto.com, with the well-dressed font man coming second.

What I'm up to: I'm the guest on NPR's Fresh Air today, in conversation about hypochondria with Terry Gross herself! It airs live across the US throughout the afternoon, depending on where you are based, and then will be available to listen back after broadcast here and here too.

Here are thirteen more things this Thursday that I wanted to share with you:

  1. A superb video explaining how to use data visualisation techniques to master the timings of any complicated roast meal.
  2. In the past few weeks, I have been looking critically at my media diet. I am keener than ever to understand politics and policy without having to imbibe a constant flow of psychodrama to get it. I get most of my news from radio and podcasts, so these are the switches I'm making.
    • Music rather than talk radio as my everyday background. For me, that means BBC Radio 3, ClassicFM and BBC Radio 6 Music, depending on the time of day. The brief hourly news bulletins let me know which stories are truly cutting through to the wider population and which are not (and can therefore be safely ignored as Westminster/Washington bubble stuff).
    • Podcasts that broaden my horizons rather than narrow them. For ongoing monitoring and consumption, I like:
      • Monocle's daily show The Globalist, which is made from London but covers all countries equally — ie an election in Iceland or a major new law in Australia gets as much airtime as the latest UK government announcement.
      • Podlitical from BBC Sounds, which comes from the BBC Scotland newsroom in Glasgow and covers UK politics with a Holyrood/Cardiff/Stormont bias.
      • Three feeds from BBC Local Radio/Regions that are infrequently updated but always worth the time when they are: Multi Story, In Detail and In Court. All three aggregate often very good local reporting on big stories that rarely gets much air time on bigger channels. Multi Story sadly hasn't been updated since 2021, but I live in hope.
    • Lastly, I like to drop in temporarily on shows made by outlets based in a place I'm currently interested in. At the time of writing, for instance, the Irish general election has almost finished counting, and I'm listening to Election Daily from the Irish Times to get my information about it.
  1. Are your local community spaces online (Facebook groups) totally flooded with Boaver stuff too? This longread about how big data changed the US dairy industry felt timely.
  2. Fancy architecture, but for dogs:
  1. On breaking up with Wordle.
  2. I remember so vividly that morning after an awful night before, when I had taken a big romantic swing and it had not worked out the way I had hoped. A colleague, immediately understanding the nature of my distress and knowing that we could not discuss it properly while at the office, emailed me an extremely appropriate edition of the "Ask Polly" column (then published at The Awl, RIP) on the hour, every hour, until we could leave and go to the pub for a weepy debrief. Heather Havrilesky, the writer of that column, now publishes it independently and occasionally sends out a classic from the archive. This is how I came to read 'Help, I'm The Loneliest Person In The World!' for the first time in a decade and find myself sobbing at my computer screen. I am so different now, and yet I still need the same advice. Maybe you do too.
  3. Sometimes it's good to stick your face into some very mass culture. This is a playlist of the 100 most streamed songs on Spotify, ever.
  4. The modern equivalent of those chalk figures carved into hills? People are making interesting designs with solar farms.
  5. Paul Graham on how the age of AI is going to divide us into the "writes and the write-nots", because there will be no reason for people who don't enjoy writing or aren't good at it to ever do it. This is bad, by the way.
  6. A well-reported piece about coming to terms with the fact that you might not ever "recover" from burnout.
"Burnout asks me whether I really need to claw at the whole world with both hands. And it suggests that what I’m holding is already more than enough. There is a wealth all around. I need only to dwell within it, and witness it, rather than rushing on to the next thing. And I need people, of course, to care for and receive care from, so that I can continue to remain here as long as my body lets me."
  1. WhenPhoto, a game where you are shown a series of photographs and must guess the year in which each was taken.
  2. I am a sucker for a vlogger who documents an interesting-to-me life. This one is an oboe student at Juilliard. As an unsuccessful teenage oboist, I am hooked.
  3. Buying a TV in 2024 is surprisingly hard, if you want it to a) look good b) work with all your other stuff and c) not spy on you too much.

I send a few different types of post as part of this newsletter: personal essays, reading updates and book reviews, reflections on my own writing, and links round-ups like this one. If you would like to receive some but not all of these, you can adjust those settings in your account menu.

I'm writing this in my free time, but if you would like to support my work, you have a few options. Forward this newsletter to a friend and encourage them to sign up. Subscribe to my podcast, Shedunnit, in your app of choice, or if you are already a listener, become a member of the Shedunnit Book Club. Buy my books — The Way to the Sea and A Body Made of Glass — or borrow them from your local library. Purchase a subscription for yourself or a friend to The Browser. Thank you for reading.

Until next time,

Caroline

Filed under: Links, blog, newsletterarchive
4 min read Permalink

A New Chief Scorpion Wrangler Is Sought

Thirteen things this Thursday that I have read, watched, listened to or otherwise found noteworthy.

Dear friends,

Welcome back to my would-be-weekly newsletter, which just took a month's break while I was busy pre-recording all the podcast episodes that will go out while I'm having a break over Christmas.

If you ever want to talk to me, reply to this email. The most popular link last time was the game of Death Roulette, with Hilary Mantel's writing day second.

What I'm up to: White-knuckling it through "Books of the Year" season, honestly. I know these lists are arbitrary, subjective and unimportant in the grand scheme of things, yet it still wounds me a bit every time I see that A Body Made of Glass isn't on one. I'm probably not supposed to admit to that kind of ego-fragility in public, but there we are. It's a very personal book; it often feels like it is me that is under review, not just something I wrote.

The book is out in paperback in both the UK and the US in March, so if you've been holding off until you could have it in a slightly smaller, cheaper package, now's your chance to pre-order. It is otherwise exactly the same book. You can, of course, have the audiobook – read by me — right now.

Enough moping! Here are thirteen more things this Thursday that I wanted to share with you:

  1. L.M. Montgomery's 150th birthday is this Saturday, so there has been some good anniversary-pegged content about her recently. I liked this podcast episode that includes an interview with her granddaughter and a discussion of why Emily of New Moon resonates so much with neurodivergent people today.
  2. Readers of my first book will know that the Isle of Sheppey is the closest thing I have to a point of origin in the UK. Of course, I was delighted to see it make the news for a fun rather than a grim reason: a new “chief scorpion wrangler” is sought to take care of the 200-year-old colony of arachnids that live in the walls of Sheerness Dockyard.
  3. Notes App Epiphanies: I loved this. My favourite screengrabs (everything I write is true):
  1. My favourite post-election take, which is mostly about a recently widowed man losing and then finding a beloved wedding ring.
  2. Some people scroll Instagram reels from sun-drenched islands to find their next holiday destination. I like to get lost in this map that shows everywhere in Europe I could take a night train to. The far north of Sweden? Don't mind if I do.
  3. I recently chanced across the Ephemeral New York blog and have been keeping up with it assiduously since. It has a great combination of current photography of NYC institutions with history. This recent post marking the 200th anniversary of the opening of Fifth Avenue was especially good.
  4. A very stylish man dresses as various fonts.
  5. Thomas Jones in the LRB did a good job of articulating my own views on the Richard Osman crime oeuvre. I love it when critics do that:
"Given what it sets out to do, it’s hard to fault The Thursday Murder Club. It may be the literary equivalent of the ultra-processed snack foods that Chris can’t help gorging himself on, full of ‘empty calories’, but, on their own terms, it’s hard to fault a packet of cheese and onion crisps or a Wispa bar, either."

I also appreciated the mention here of all the guilt expressed in those books around food. Quite jarring to be regularly told about someone's biscuit-based shame when trying to enjoy an uncomplicated mystery.

  1. Fascinating piece of writing about genre snobbery. When is a book allowed to "transcend commercial fiction"? What tricks do authors use to signal that what they are writing is literary fiction rather than "just" science fiction or a spy novel?
  2. The Mushroom Colour Atlas is simply gorgeous and must be perused at length.
  1. I have been reading ferociously this month (as subscribers to my reading updates will shortly find out) and I found some of the tips here on how to maximise your reading time helpful. I have yet to keep a book of poetry by my toilet, but never say never.
  2. Considering texts of condolence as their own form of writing, or perhaps of prophecy. "A friend’s brother dies and on the day of his funeral I text, 'I hope it goes as best as can be today, I am thinning of you.' A few weeks after my first chemo, my hair begins to shed."
  3. Where should you emigrate to? Use this handy quiz to find a country that matches your economic, social and cultural preferences.

I send a few different types of post as part of this newsletter: personal essays, reading updates and book reviews, reflections on my own writing, and links round-ups like this one. If you would like to receive some but not all of these, you can adjust those settings in your account menu.

I'm writing this in my free time, but if you would like to support my work, you have a few options. Forward this newsletter to a friend and encourage them to sign up. Subscribe to my podcast, Shedunnit, in your app of choice, or if you are already a listener, become a member of the Shedunnit Book Club. Buy my books — The Way to the Sea and A Body Made of Glass — or borrow them from your local library. Purchase a subscription for yourself or a friend to The Browser. Thank you for reading.

Until next time,

Caroline

Filed under: Links, blog, newsletterarchive