The more I read and the more I write about books, the less well-read I feel. You'd think it would be the other way round, but so many books coming in from all quarters tends to show up the gaps in my reading. One of today's arrivals is a good example: The Empty Family is a new collection of short stories by Colm Tóibín, someone I've never read despite having had The Master in my sights for some time, and noting the praise for Brooklyn, but here's my chance to put that right.
"Always deeply moving, the stories here - like the surf-washed pebbles on that Wexford beach - will be read for meaning and enjoyed for their shape and sound for ages to come", and "Exquisite ... The chief reason to read these stories is the peculiar power of Colm Tóibín's prose," say the reviewers.
Out in paperback on 30th. June, this collection could be a great introduction for anyone who, like me, has yet to sample the author's longer work, and with nine stories to the 200 or so pages, they could be taken in one go or fitted in around the usual novel-reading.
(Two more new arrivals will be popping up here later in the day).