It’s all quiet, and I am having a much-deserved night in.
So here, to save me from tidying the flat, is a plug for the latest book I read, one of those whose title and cover caught my eyes abruptly the other day, as books often do. It’s called What Was Lost, and is set in and around the Green Oaks shopping centre in Birmingham across two decades.
The story, written in a gripping, tense and yet at the same time strangely gentle way, is part character piece, part murder mystery. But more than that, it’s a poignant examination of the depersonalised existence of modern urban life, a concept I have loved in books like this and this.
Not the sort of book, based on its front and back cover, that I expected to make me laugh out loud in the bookstore on the very first page, but that’s exactly what what happened, and I was hooked from there.
I have a satisfyingly high “to read” pile, and hope that I’ll have plenty time over the summer to get stuck into it.