Five novels and a thin volume of essays. Listed in the order they happened, which is not the order I would have chosen.
A small book about being seen by no-one in particular. Three hundred pages of weather, mostly.
Read the opening. →Twenty-three short pieces about places I would rather not have visited and people I would rather not have met.
Read the opening. →A widow, a piano tuner, and a season of unusually heavy rain. Reissued, against my better judgment, with a new afterword.
Read the opening. →A man returns to a Yorkshire town that has, in his absence, decided to forget him. Shortlisted for things I didn’t attend.
Read the opening. →My first, and the one I will, if asked at parties, claim was a youthful indiscretion. It is also, I confess, my favourite.
Read the opening. →— that is, regrettably, all of them.