“The Marriage Plot”: Literary Wives Gets an Update
I’ve been part of the Literary Wives online book club for just over four years now. We recently decided to give the group a revamp, including a new name and feature image. The name was Becky’s idea and we all liked it for the literary reference. Part of our reasoning was to make things more inclusive, because future reads will cover same-sex marriages and we also want to think more broadly about love and roles in any long-term partnership. I’ve made a project page for it based on Kay’s.

Our current members are:
Becky of Aidanvale
Kate of Books Are My Favourite and Best
Kay of What? Me Read?
Marianne of Let’s Read!
Rebecca of Bookish Beck
Here’s our schedule for the next couple of years. Anyone is welcome to read along with us! We post reviews quarterly, on the first Monday of the month.

September 2026 – Family Family by Laurie Frankel
December 2026 – The Eden Test by Adam Sternbergh*
March 2027 – Wedded Wife by Rachael E. Lennon
June 2027 – Liars by Sarah Manguso
September 2027 – Brick Lane by Monica Ali
December 2027 – Parallel Lives: Five Victorian Marriages by Phyllis Rose
March 2028 – The Course of Love by Alain de Botton
June 2028 – My Husband by Maud Ventura

(*I’m going to have to skip December’s read because I couldn’t find a way to acquire it affordably and I don’t think it will be to my taste anyway.)
20 Books of Summer 2026 Plan
It’s my ninth year participating in the 20 Books of Summer challenge, hosted this year by Annabel. #20BOS26 starts on 1 June and runs through 31 August.

Some years I have chosen a theme (colours, foodie, flora or fauna) or other criterion (all hardbacks by women), but the danger in limiting my options, let alone pre-selecting particular books, is that I tend to lose interest as soon as I list them. Most times I only read 7–10 of the 20 books I earmark, so what’s the point! My only firm rule this year is that all 20 books must be from my own shelves. Beyond that? I’d love to make progress towards various low-key goals:
- My long-neglected Four in a Row and Journey through the Day projects
- Review catch-up books or part-read books, many dating back to 2022 or earlier
- My ongoing quest to read books published in my birth year of 1983
- Chipping away at the list of authors I own two or more (Michael Crummey, Sigrid Nunez, Jeet Thayil) or even three or more (Jenny Diski, Wendy Perriam, Jane Urquhart) unread books by
I also like to achieve a good balance between new acquisitions and long-term shelf sitters; doorstoppers and slim volumes (novellas or poetry collections). Ideally at least 5 of my choices would be by BIPOC. Overlapping with other summer challenges such as June’s Reading the Meow, Paris in July and August’s Women in Translation, would be handy.

And then there’s this year’s Bingo card to consider. I’m pondering the 4-book diagonal consisting of:
- Summer in the title
- A classic you’ve been meaning to read
- Features a family holiday
- Published in summer (any year)
Or column 4, which is:
- With a vacation setting
- With a journey by air/sea/rail
- Features ice cream or cocktails
- Published in summer (any year)
I tend to skew towards fiction in the summers, so I’m guessing I’ll manage 15 works of fiction (one short story collection would be good), a few memoirs or other nonfiction, and a couple of poetry collections.

Unread poetry books from my bedside table
Here are a few specific books I currently have my eye on…
Ongoing project:
Blonde by Joyce Carol Oates – Marcie (Buried in Print) and I are doing a mini Oates buddy reading project and I made the mistake of starting with Blonde, which is over 700 pages, all of them crammed full of tiny type. So it may well take me the entire summer.
Review copies:
Homework by Geoff Dyer – The paperback has just arrived for me and I’m eager to get stuck in, having sampled it on my Kindle earlier in the year. Dyer is an annoyingly versatile author whose writing always feels effortless. This is his memoir of growing up in typical English suburbia in the 1960s and 70s.
George by Frieda Hughes – Having recently read a novel about Sylvia Plath (the excellent The Daffodil Days by Helen Bain), I fancy picking up this memoir by her daughter about raising a fledgling magpie as a pet.
The Great Believers by Rebecca Makkai – This is a proof copy from (gulp) 2018! I only got about 60 pages into it at that time, but I love Makkai and would like to try again. It’s the story of a group of arty friends in Chicago at the start of the AIDS crisis.
Recent acquisitions:


(Elkin for Paris in July; Powers for 1983 challenge)
The new Emily St. John Mandel novel coming out in September, Exit Party, is a sequel of sorts to The Singer’s Gun, I’ve heard, so I will definitely read it ahead.
Tying into other challenges:

Reading the Meow; Paris in July; Women in Translation options
The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov would be for Reading the Meow but would also cross off “A classic you’ve been meaning to read.”
Left over from last year:
I fancy a reread of Prodigal Summer by Barbara Kingsolver – “From her outpost in an isolated mountain cabin, Deanna Wolfe, a reclusive wildlife biologist, watches a den of coyotes that have recently migrated into the region. She is caught off-guard by a young hunter who invades her most private spaces and confounds her self-assured, solitary life.”
How I Won a Nobel Prize by Julius Taranto – I believe it was Susan’s review that put this on my radar, though the title and the fact that it’s an academic satire would have been enough to get it onto my TBR.
Just because…
What Belongs to You by Garth Greenwell – Small Rain was my book of 2024, and I keep meaning to read something else by him. It’s his debut’s 10th anniversary, so why not now?
Miracle Creek by Angie Kim – I got this from my wish list for Christmas. I loved her second novel, Happiness Falls, and this one looks right up my street, too, with its theme of experimental treatment for autistic children and gentle thriller plot.
All Over Creation by Ruth Ozeki – Her only novel I’ve not yet read. An environmentalist novel set in the northwestern USA sounds like a good follow-up to our latest book club read, the so-so The Mighty Red by Louise Erdrich.
I’m not committing to a particular set of 20, but you can see from this and my recent library reorganization photos that I have plenty on the shelves to choose from!
See anything here that I should prioritize?
#NovNov25 Begins! & My Year in Novellas
Welcome to Novellas in November! The link-up is open (see my pinned post). At the start of the month, we’re inviting you to tell us about any novellas you’ve read since last November.

I have a designated shelf of short books that I keep adding to throughout the year. Whenever I’m at secondhand bookshops, charity shops, the Little Free Library, or the public library volunteering, I’m always eyeing up thin volumes and thinking about my piles for November.
But I read novellas other times of year, too. Forty-five of them between December 2024 and now, according to my Goodreads shelves (last year the figure was 44 and the year before it was 46, so that’s my natural average). I often choose to review books of novella length for BookBrowse, Foreword and Shelf Awareness, so that helps to account for the number. I’ve read a real mixture, but predominantly literature in translation and autobiographical works.
My four favourites are ones I’ve already covered on the blog (links to my reviews): The Most by Jessica Anthony, Pale Shadows by Dominique Fortier and Three Days in June by Anne Tyler; and, in nonfiction, Mornings without Mii by Mayumi Inaba. Two works of historical fiction, one contemporary story; and a memoir of life with a cat.
What are some of your recent favourite novellas?
#NovNov25 and Other November Reading Plans
Not much more than two weeks now before Novellas in November (#NovNov25) begins! Cathy and I are getting geared up and making plans for what we’re going to read. I have a handful of novellas out from the library, but mostly I gathered potential reads from my own shelves. I’m hoping to coincide with several of November’s other challenges, too.

Although we’re not using the below as themes this year, I’ve grouped my options into categories:
Short Classics (pre-1980)

Just Quicksand to read from the Larsen volume; the Wilder would be a reread.
Contemporary Novellas

(Just Blow Your House Down; and the last two of the three novellas in the Hynes.)
Also, on my e-readers: Sea, Poison by Caren Beilin, Likeness by Samsun Knight, Eradication: A Fable by Jonathan Miles (a 2026 release, to review early for Shelf Awareness)
*Margaret Atwood Reading Month is hosted by Marcie of Buried in Print. I’ve just read The Penelopiad for book club, so I’ll start off with a review of that. I might also reread Bluebeard’s Egg, and I’ll be eagerly awaiting her memoir from the library.
[*Science Fiction Month: Beautyland by Marie-Helene Bertino, Archive of Unknown Universes by Ruben Reyes Jr., and The Afterlife Project (all catch-up review books) are options, plus I recently started reading The Martian by Andy Weir.]
Short Nonfiction
Including our buddy read, Sister Outsider by Audre Lorde. (A shame about that cover!)
Also, on my e-readers: The Serviceberry by Robin Wall Kimmerer, No Straight Road Takes You There by Rebecca Solnit, Because We Must by Tracy Youngblom. And, even though it doesn’t come out until February, I started reading The Irish Goodbye: Micro-Memoirs by Beth Ann Fennelly via Edelweiss.

For Nonfiction November, I also have plenty of longer nonfiction on the go, a mixture of review books to catch up on and books from the library:

I also have one nonfiction November release, Joyride by Susan Orlean, to review.
Novellas in Translation
At left are all the novella-length options, with four German books on top.
The Chevillard and Modiano are review copies to catch up on.

Also on the stack, from the library: Super-Frog Saves Tokyo by Haruki Murakami
On my e-readers: The Old Fire by Elisa Shua Dusapin, The Old Man by the Sea by Domenico Starnone, Our Precious Wars by Perrine Tripier
*German Literature Month: Our recent trip to Berlin and Lübeck whetted my appetite to read more German/German-language fiction. I’ll try to coincide with the Thomas Mann week as I was already planning to reread Death in Venice. I have some longer German books on the right-hand side as well. I started Kairos but found it hard going so might switch to audiobook. I also have Demian by Hermann Hesse on my Nook, downloaded from Project Gutenberg.
Spy any favourites or a particularly appealing title in my piles?
The link-up is now open for you to share your planning post!
Any novellas lined up to read next month?
Novellas in November 2025 Link-Up (#NovNov25)

Novellas in November 2025 was a roaring success: In total, we had 50 bloggers contributing 216 posts covering at least 207 books! The buddy read(s) had 14 participants. It was our best year yet – thank you.
*For the curious, our most reviewed book was The Wax Child by Olga Ravn (4 reviews), followed by The Most by Jessica Anthony (3). Authors covered three times: Franz Kafka and Christian Kracht. Authors with work(s) reviewed twice: Margaret Atwood, Nora Ephron, Hermann Hesse, Claire Keegan, Irmgard Keun, Thomas Mann, Patrick Modiano, Edna O’Brien, Clare O’Dea, Max Porter, Brigitte Reimann, Ivana Sajko, Georges Simenon, Colm Tóibín and Stefan Zweig.*
Check out all the posts here:
Get Ready for Novellas in November!
Novellas: “all killer, no filler”
~Joe Hill

Hard to believe, but it’s nearly that time again. Autumn is drawing in. For the SIXTH year in a row, Cathy of 746 Books and I are co-hosting Novellas in November as a month-long blogging and social media challenge celebrating the art of the short book. A novella technically contains 20,000 to 40,000 words, but to keep things simple we will define it as any work of under 200 pages.
This year we have two buddy reads, a 2025 fiction release and an older work of nonfiction:

Seascraper by Benjamin Wood is set in the early 1960s and features a young man who lives with his mother in northwest England and carries on the family tradition of fishing for shrimp. He longs for a bigger and more creative life, which he hopes he might achieve through his folk music hobby – or his chance encounter with an American filmmaker. On one pivotal day, his fortunes might just change. Check out this interview with Wood to whet your appetite. Last year our buddy read, Orbital, won the Booker Prize, auguring good things for novellas in the public sphere. Seascraper is on the longlist! In this Q&A on the Booker Prize website, Wood talks about the unusual situation in which he wrote it. (160 pages)

Sister Outsider by Audre Lorde is a 1984 collection of short pieces by the late Black lesbian feminist. I’ve only read Lorde’s The Cancer Journals, so I’m looking forward to this. From the Penguin website: “The revolutionary writings of Audre Lorde gave voice to those ‘outside the circle of this society’s definition of acceptable women’. Uncompromising, angry and yet full of hope, this collection of her essential prose – essays, speeches, letters, interviews – explores race, sexuality, poetry, friendship, the erotic and the need for female solidarity, and includes her landmark piece ‘The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House’.” A great opportunity to tie into Nonfiction November. (190 pages)
Please join us in reading one or both books any time between now and the end of November!
You might like to start off the month with a My Year in Novellas retrospective looking at any novellas you have read since last year’s NovNov, and then finish with a New to My TBR list based on what short books others have tempted you with.
It’s always a busy month in the blogging world with Nonfiction November, German Literature Month, Margaret Atwood Reading Month and SciFi Month. Why not search your shelves and/or local library for novellas that could count towards multiple challenges?
From early October a link-up post will be pinned to my site so you can add your planning posts or reviews. Keep in touch via Bluesky (@bookishbeck.bsky.social / @cathybrown746.bsky.social) and Instagram (@bookishbeck / @cathy_746books) and feel free to use the terrific feature images Cathy has made plus our new hashtag, #NovNov25.




Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s performance as a father appears in one poem of Family Lines (ed. Armitage and Bower) and one essay of Frog by Anne Fadiman.













Remarking on how quiet/noisy a French dishwasher is in Paris to the Moon by Adam Gopnik/L’Appart by David Lebovitz and a mention of one’s good fortune in getting a store to accept a returned appliance.






The smell of vetiver: a cologne in Year of the Drought by Roland Buti and fabric softener in Brother, I’m Dying by Edwidge Danticat.
An insistence that the soles of a woman’s feet not be shown in A Rough Guide to the Heart by Pam Houston (etiquette in Bhutan) and Blonde by Joyce Carol Oates (when Norma Jeane Baker, aka Marilyn Monroe, is having early nude photos taken).



This debut novel dropped through my door as a total surprise: not only was it unsolicited, but I’d not heard about it. In this modern take on the traditional haunted house story, Ellen is a ghostwriter sent from London to Elver House, Northumberland, to work on the memoirs of its octogenarian owner, Catherine Carey. Ellen will stay in the remote manor house for a week and record 20 hours of audio interviews – enough to flesh out an autobiography. Miss Carey isn’t a forthcoming subject, but Ellen manages to learn that her father drowned in the nearby brook and that all Miss Carey did afterwards was meant to please her grieving mother and the strictures of the time. But as strange happenings in the house interfere with her task, Ellen begins to doubt she’ll come away with usable material. I was reminded of
I’m sure I read all of Dahl’s major works when I was a child, though I had no specific memory of this one. After his parents’ death in a car accident, a boy lives in his family home in England with his Norwegian grandmother. She tells him stories from Norway and schools him in how to recognize and avoid witches. They wear wigs and special shoes to hide their baldness and square feet, and with their wide nostrils they sniff out children to turn them into hated creatures like slugs. When Grandmamma falls ill with pneumonia, she and the boy travel to a Bournemouth hotel for her recovery only to stumble upon a convention of witches under the guise of the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children. The Grand High Witch (Anjelica Huston, if you know the movie) has a new concoction that will transform children into mice at enough of a delay to occur the following morning at school. It’s up to the boy and his grandmother to save the day. I really enjoyed this caper, which I interpreted as being – like Tove Jansson’s
Somehow I’ve read this entire series even though none of the subsequent books lived up to
The third in the “Sworn Soldier” series, after
A very different sort of vampire novel. Twenty-three-year-old Lydia is half Japanese and half Malaysian; half human and half vampire. She’s trying to follow in her late father’s footsteps as an artist through an internship at a Battersea gallery, which comes with studio space where she’ll sleep to save money. But she can only drink blood like her mother, who turned her when she was a baby. Mostly she subsists on pig blood – which she can order dried if she can’t buy it fresh from a butcher – though, in one disturbing sequence, she brings home a duck carcass. When she falls for Ben, one of her studio-mates, she imagines what it would be like to be fully human: to make art together, to explore Asian cuisine, to bond over losing their mothers (his is dying of cancer; hers is in a care home with violence-tinged dementia). But Ben is already seeing someone, the internship is predictably dull, and a first attempt at consuming regular food goes badly wrong. There are a lot of promising threads in this debut. It’s fascinating how Lydia can intuit a creature’s whole life story by drinking their blood. She becomes obsessed with the Baba Yaga folk tale (and also mentions Malay vampire legends) and there’s a neat little bit of #MeToo revenge. But overall, it’s half-baked. Really, it’s just a disaster-woman book in disguise. The way Lydia’s identity determines her attitudes towards food and sex feels like a symbol of body dysmorphia. I’ll look out to see if Kohda does something more distinctive in future. (Secondhand – Awesomebooks.com)
This is the middle of a trio of stories about Maya. They’re not in a row and I read the book over quite a number of months, so I was in danger of forgetting that we’d met this set of characters before. In the first, the title story, Maya has been with Rhodes for five years but is thinking of leaving him – and not just because she’s crushing on her boss. A health crisis with her dog leads her to rethink. In “Grendel’s Mother,” Maya is pregnant and hoping that she and her partner are on the same page.
I’ve had a mixed experience with Mackay, but the one novel of hers I got on well with, The Orchard on Fire, also dwells on the shattered innocence of childhood. By contrast, most of the stories in this collection are grimy ones about lonely older people – especially elderly women – reminding me of Barbara Comyns or Barbara Pym at her darkest. “Where the Carpet Ends,” about the long-term residents of a shabby hotel, recalls
Of course, I also loved “The Cat,” which Eleanor mentioned when she read my review of Matt Haig’s