by Isabelle Marie Flynn || The first thing I learn is that she wears handmade clothes. The second is that she’s a fucking Capricorn. You spit the words at me between a swig of beer and a mouthful of garlic bread, shaking your head across the chequered tablecloth.
Reviewed by Juliano Zaffino || “This is a female text.” A clear declaration of feminine literary intent, the mapping of body onto text, text onto body, begins and ends in Doireann Ní Ghríofa’s genre-defying prose debut A Ghost In The Throat.
Reviewed by Laura McDonagh || Too elitist, too close to Wall Street, too much of a feminist for some Americans’ tastes and not enough for others. Except ‘feminist’ might be the wrong descriptor altogether ... How do you solve a problem like Hillary?
by Rebecca Clark || There is a woman sat next to me, in the middle seat.
by Annabel Banks || I was fifteen when he first turned up, some flashy guy in a leather coat with starlight in his eyes.
by Gráinne O’Hare || Blanche and Orla don’t notice Laoise crying at first; they are engaged in lively debate about how much vodka a tampon can hold.
Reviewed by Terri-Jane Dow || Boy Parts - our book club pick for September - is the most deliciously grim book I've read for a while.
by Laura McDonagh || narcissus cannot see herself
Reviewed by Terri-Jane Dow || This time last year, I was in Seoul, mesmerised by streets upon winding streets of bustling beauty stores in Myeong-dong.
by Fionna Cumming || March hits like a fist, these Ides the first we've truly had to be wary of since Caesar bled, and we didn't heed the warnings.