The Lie of the Land, Amanda Craig’s seventh novel, doesn’t fit a particular genre. A mix of black comedy, whip-smart social satire and psychological suspense, this tale of a highly dysfunctional family is enthralling, insightful and immensely readable. Quentin and Lottie Bredin are in an all too familiar bind. They’ve both lost their jobs, their marriage is in tatters and they can’t afford to divorce. They can’t sell their north London house either, which ...keep reading
My family owns so many books that every time we move (which is pretty often, I admit), the removal men take one look at our shelves and immediately start tripling the number of boxes they’ll need. The book collecting gene goes back a long way. In fact my father has probably got even more books than me, including an ancient set of Encyclopaedia Britannica volumes that I always used for my ...keep reading
It’s exactly two months since we moved to Dorset and the chaos continues. There are still boxes to unpack, change of address cards to send, curtains to make (not by me – I’m the most cack-handed person ever) and pictures to hang. I’m slightly worried that if I don’t crack it all by Christmas then I never will. I’ll be so used to clambering over boxes, wearing clothes that have ...keep reading
I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve moved house. My father was in the RAF when I was little and we moved all over the shop. Thetford, Ely, Halton, Epsom, I’ve forgotten the names of half the places where we lived and a few of the schools too. I didn’t plan it this way but the pattern has continued for my own children. Before we pitched up in ...keep reading
A Saturday round-up of the week at House With No Name House With No Name Book Review: William Fiennes’s The Music Room House With No Name Film Review: The Help House With No Name Glamour: The party to celebrate the 2011 Cosmo Blog Awards House With No Name Goes to the Dogs: The dreaded dog debate rears its fluffy head House With No Name Lifestyle: Country or City? The best ...keep reading
I’ve got a serious moving house habit. One that dates back to my childhood, when my father was in the RAF and we moved houses (sometimes countries) every year. I was always the new girl at school – the Billy No Mates who didn’t have a clue who to give my dinner money to or where to hang my PE bag. It’s a habit that’s stuck. We’ve moved house an ...keep reading