I’ve rediscovered Ann Cleeves this past couple months. Her characters are many-layered and complex, and their stories are both gripping and grounded. I get pulled in and come to care about her characters (Vera Stanhope being a favourite currently). Cleeves’s story-telling has the power to pull my mind from the billion things I need to let go of, to fall into sleep.

Reading’s been harder, through the pandemic. I give up on as many books as I finish. Some stories are just too dark, and others seem too trivial. Sometimes it seems as if I just can’t focus. When I can, it feels like a gift and reading becomes even more vital.

After so much screen time, the physicality of the books seems so right. They’re solid, with such a simple and yet beautiful design. I find myself noticing the binding and the texture of the pages.