Novels

Benjamin remembers some of the books he has collected over the years. He recalls ordering books from catalogues - which are essentially the Amazon of the first half of the twentieth century - and waiting eagerly for their arrival.
Education secretary Michael Gove's controversial announcement American fiction is to be sidelined in the new English Literature
"Writing advertising copy, which I learned largely from the great David Ogilvy, taught me not to waffle, and to use facts instead of purple prose when describing something," says Peter Mayle over a glass of red.
We started this. That's what I can't help thinking every time I hear about the latest death and suffering in Syria. When the US and Britain invaded Iraq in 2003, we set off a chain of events that led inexorably to the killing fields of Damascus and Aleppo.
When I was first starting out as a published author, and before my first book was published, a famous writer at an awards
In the process from script to screen sacrifices have to be made. One of the scenes we were all delighted with was a ménage a trois where a woman ends up in bed with one man dressed as the Bristol Rovers pirate and the other as Bristol City's confusingly-named mascot Scrumpy the Robin. Unfortunately neither football club would give us permission to desecrate their poor mascots.
Lights in the sky are one thing, near misses quite another, and as much as the MOD is happy to publicise the dubious (and often humorous) reports from members of the public, they aren't nearly as forthcoming as to remind us that the National Air Traffic Control Services detect around one unidentified flying object every month.
Peter May is a writer who needs no introduction. An award winning journalist at the age of twenty-one, he left newspapers for a career in television and screenwriting, creating three prime-time drama serials, including 1978's The Standard.
At the hospital bedside of Patrick, a 50-year-old professor of American studies, drinker and womaniser, our narrator begins to detail the transformative days that follow shortly after his heart transplant.
It's a good job Forrest Reid didn't write to be famous. Almost seventy years after his death, his novels gather dust in libraries: unthumbed and unadmired. Highly thought of by friends like E.M. Forster and Walter de la Mare during his lifetime, the Ulster writer has since fallen into obscurity. Until now, that is.