Daisy Jones & The Six (Amazon)

The rise and demise of a rock band in the 70s is documented in this 10-part series based on the novel by Taylor Jenkins Reid. The Six is formed by the Dunne brothers and their mates in small town USA. They recruit keyboard player Karen and move to LA, where super producer Teddy Price hooks them up with aspiring singer-songwriter Daisy Jones and the band hits the big time. But band dynamics amid the sex, drugs and rock’n’roll of the era brings it all to an abrupt end. The show is framed through interviews with the various band members and entourage many years later, with extended flashbacks showing how it all happened. There are strong Fleetwood Mac vibes with the music, personas and sexual politics but this is not their story fictionalised. The soundtrack and performances are great – who knew Sam Claflin could sing? - and there are satisfying subplots that delve into disco and the club scene, sexuality and record label hierarchy.

Three Reasons for Revenge, by Dervla McTiernan

Melbourne detective Judith Lee takes a report of a sexual assault that echoes one from 10 years earlier. Determined to do better investigating this time, she finds herself plunged into a murder plot of revenge and generational trauma with a personal twist. This is the Irish-Australian writer’s first novel set in this country and she is keen to demonstrate her knowledge of local geography and policing. Judith is a maverick with a dark past and it’s difficult to believe she was accepted into the police force in the first place, let alone survived within it. The fast-paced plot grows increasingly improbable, but it’s an easy read despite its very dark subject matter.

Legends & Lattes, by Travis Baldree

Viv is tired of her life on the road as a sword for hire and after one last quest to retrieve a significant magical object, the orc is retiring to open a coffee shop in a new town. She has done loads of research since discovering the wonderful brew but how do you run a successful café in a place where the beverage is unknown? Luckily there is a local succubus with mad marketing skills ready to assist, a handy builder able to fit out the old stables Viv acquires and a budding pastry chef willing to boost the menu. But Viv’s new life is not all caffeine and sweet treats; there is the local protection mob to navigate and old comrades with their own agendas. This is a fun read; an undemanding tale of friendship and finding your niche. There are a few too many adjectives and the romance is superfluous, but fine. The moral of the story is make your own magic.

Flashlight, by Susan Choi

Louisa is 10 when her father Serk disappears, presumed drowned, off the coast of Japan, where the family was visiting for a year on a University exchange from the US. The story jumps back to Louisa’s parents’ origins – Serk a Korean in Japan and Anne in small town America - and how they got together. Then it moves on to the aftermath of his loss before jumping ahead to the longer-term consequences for both Anne and Louisa. This is a complex and thoughtful tale that encompasses almost incomprehensible geopolitical events and their effects on the lives and relationships of ordinary people. The characters are often unlikeable and their behaviour sometimes difficult to understand or excuse, especially in the first half of the book. But they are always interesting and the story develops into an empathetic and moving exposition of injustice and resilience.

The Bookshop of Buried Pasts, by Sarah Clutton

Phyllida Banks has owned and run an antiquarian bookshop in a small town in the New South Wales southern highlands since the 1970s. In planning to leave the world, she sets her beloved granddaughter Lottie on a quest to find a mysterious figure from her past. This is an ambitious book that doesn’t succeed in any of the many things it tries to achieve. It touches on domestic violence; mother-child relationships; herbal lore and wise women; genealogy and DNA; and much more, doing none of the topics justice. The story is bookended by the voice of a bookshop, which is bizarre. The meat of it is told from multiple points of view; the most accessible that of Lottie in the present day. Unfortunately this is all too often interrupted by dips into the past – the 50s, 60s, 70s and 90s – overexplaining the secrets of Phyllida’s past with a plot that becomes increasingly ludicrous. Never mind, it’s all tied up neatly with a sickly pink bow at the end.

Hamnet (2025), directed by Chloe Zhao

Based on an acclaimed novel, this film offers a different take on William Shakespeare from the point of view of his wife. It starts with their courtship and moves through to a year after the death of their 11-year-old son, Hamnet. Agnes is portrayed as a woman of nature and an herbalist, which is why she and their three children never moved to London. Will had to go there for his career but she needed to stay in the country, so they were apart for much of their marriage but their love never wavered despite a rocky patch after losing their son. Jessie Buckley embodies forest woman Agnes and deserves all the accolades she won for this film. Paul Mescal has almost a peripheral role as Will, but his understated performance has been underrated. The film has been described as grief porn, which is a wild exaggeration, but it is a little slow in places and could effectively be 10 minutes shorter. Emily Watson and Joe Alwyn provide solid support and the child actors are very good.

Winifred Peters is not Sorry for her Loss, by Louise Jensen Duffy

Newly widowed Winifred Peters can’t wait to start a new, low-stress life with a modicum of independence in her small outback town of Bittamilla. Discovering she has not been provided for in her husband’s will is a bitter blow, but an unexpected windfall changes her fortune and puts her at odds with her awful adult children. In rescuing a neighbour from domestic violence, Winnie almost accidentally runs away to the big smoke and finds a new way to live. Set in the 1930s, Jensen clearly depicts the grinding poverty and limited options for women in Depression-era Australia and the huge gulf between city and country. There is an issue with tone, particularly at the start of the story, with an uneasy balance between tragedy and farce and the children depicted as too monstrously unsympathetic as an obvious device to facilitate the heroine’s escape. Some plot holes are too deep to fill and a dark twist at the end sits a little uneasily, but Winnie is an engaging character and her navigation of new wealth, false and fair friends and city life is a fun read.

The Paradise Heights Craft Store Stitch-Up, by Kate Solly

Felicity ‘Fleck’ Parker loves solving puzzles; crosswords, wordplays, sudoku, acrostics – all types keep her brain alive while caring for her three small children. When fellow school mum Trixie is accused of stealing from the charity craft shop where she volunteers, Fleck puts her brain to solving the mystery of who is really responsible and clearing Trixie’s name. The initial chapters of this novel were so ‘mumsy’ it was tempting to just chuck it. For sure having three kids under five would be exhausting and mind-numbing but it’s really not interesting to read about. Fortunately things improve as the action gets underway. The plot, involving people trafficking and money laundering, is patently absurd, but for the most part this is an entertaining and undemanding read as Fleck and Trixie solve everyone's problems along the way. Cosy crafting crime.

Song Sung Blue (2025), directed by Craig Brewer

A Vietnam veteran and reformed alcoholic, musician Mike Sardina’s stage name is Lightning and he wants to perform as himself, rather than as an impersonator. When he meets Patsy Cline interpreter Claire, they develop a Neil Diamond tribute act as Lightning and Thunder and start to do more than just scratch out a living. As success beckons fate intervenes, threatening to derail them and when they overcome a huge issue for Claire it’s then Mike’s turn. This is a story of people with talent struggling to make ends meet doing what they love; State’s Fairs, theatre restaurants and karaoke nights, small gigs and the occasional bigger break. Most in their community will never make it to the top, or anywhere near it, but they all keep trying. Hugh Jackman and Kate Hudson bring warmth to the lead roles, allowing wrinkles and love handles to make their imperfect characters real and relatable. It’s a great showcase of Neil Diamond songs and there is strong support from the band and a great performance from Ella Anderson as Claire’s daughter. It’s an unexpectedly small film, moving and well done.

When Lemons Give You Life, by Anna Johnson

Griff Barlow was a Michelin-star chef who is now in the dementia ward of an aged care facility. His sad decline has been precipitated by the death of his husband and the end of his career following a food poisoning scandal. But Griff has a secret and the neglectful care and dreadful nutrition at the facility may just lead to its discovery. Regular flashbacks to Griff’s past, including his childhood, give an insight into the flawed adult he has become and the damaged relationship he has with his much younger half-sister. The plot elements that enable Griff to keep his secret for so long are ludicrously unlikely, but the deep heart and strong characterisation of the story make this easy to overlook. The ending has a bit too much exposition – the very important points about the need for dignity and respect in aged care have already been well and truly made. Ultimately the very clever title says it all.

Platform Decay, by Martha Wells

The latest Murderbot tale sees the trusty SecUnit on yet another rescue mission. Members of Mensah’s family have been kidnapped by the vengeful Barish-Estranza Corporation and the SecUnit must work out if an old enemy could be an ally, while wrangling human children, a grumpy elder and a worried spouse. Add some more rogue SecUnits to the mix and it makes for a tricky extraction exercise, complicated by Murderbot’s new imperative to check in on its emotional state. Fast-paced and wryly funny, Murderbot can always be relied on for an entertaining story. There is a hint that future tales may involve the exponential spread of SecUnits that have been given the tools to overcome their Governor modules. Bring ‘em on.

Practical Magic 2 (2026), directed by Susanne Bier

Owens sisters Sally and Gillian are revisited 20-odd years later, with Sally having locked down her magic and forbidden her two daughters to be told of or trained in their witch legacy. Twice widowed by the ancient family curse, she believes this is the best way to keep Antonia and Kylie safe. But now Kylie has found love and her ignorance of her powers puts her at great risk. Can she find a way to break the curse and save her love? There are some really nice things about this sequel, which celebrates female power and the bond between sisters. It’s great to see Diane Wiest and Stockard Channing back as the wise aunts; Nicole Kidman and Sandra Bullock effortlessly re-create their sister act; Maisie Williams and Joey King are fine as the new generation, although Williams is not given much to do; and there are some fun nods to the first film, especially with the soundtrack. But the plot is ridiculous and the script is woeful; most of the humour and charm of the original is lost although you can see everyone trying very hard. Star power alone cannot carry a movie and Sandra Bullock playing Miss Congeniality yet again is just not that interesting.

Based on a True Story, by Sarah Vaughan

Renowned children’s author Dame Eleanor Kingman is planning a huge party to celebrate her 70th and at the same time is cooperating with an arts documentary on her life and work. But can she keep the murkier elements of her past from coming to light? Her three daughters have their own secrets to conceal. The eldest, her devoted PA Gilly, wants her own life, while accountant Rachel has marital woes and money trouble her mother won’t help with. The youngest, recovering addict turned wellness influencer Delia, has issues with her mother mining her childhood for her books. And they are not the only people who have complicated relationships with Eleanor. Disgruntled editorial assistants, a philandering ex-husband, abandoned siblings – all have reason to unmask the woman who left behind her humble origins for literary fame and fortune. Is Eleanor a monster, or a strong woman who overcame the odds to succeed? Maybe both. As the party approaches and threats multiply it becomes increasing hard to care whether any of these unappealing characters will get their comeuppance.

Strange Beasts, by Susan J Morris

The daughter of Dracula conquerors Mina and Jonathan Harker teams up with the daughter of Sherlock Holmes’ enemy Dr Moriarty to solve the case of a mysteriously murderous beast in Paris, hampered by the son of Van Helsing. All three work for the Royal Society for the Study of Abnormal Phenomena, although Samantha Harker is a researcher, while Helena Moriarty and Jakob Van Helsing are field agents – she a maverick and he a hero. Appropriating the works of others, especially classics, is often problematic. This book at least makes it more interesting by using Stoker and Conan Doyle’s creations as a jumping off point for the next generation. But, as exemplified by the opening paragraph of this review, there is just too much going on. As well as the central mystery, the story touches on the role of women, othering difference and parent-child relationships. The setting, fin-de-ciecle Paris, has clearly been thoroughly researched and is well evoked. The tale ends with a teaser for the next novel, with the two women off an adventure in Ireland. Whether it is worth joining them there? – dunno, probs not.

Staged, by John M Green

A gruesome death on stage at the Sydney Opera House provides an opportunity for a disgraced journalist to redeem his career. To do so he must re-establish a working relationship with the cop whose major case he undermined. Corruption, murder, Hollywood gossip, quirky characters, unlikely coincidences and an overabundance of adjectives make this contemporary whodunnit more of a farce than a genuine mystery. The humour is heavy handed and the multitude of characters are faintly amusing sketches rather than fully developed people. A short, brown female DI Harry Stiles – really? With three contemporary plots and an historic interlude that provides a twist at the end there is a lot going on, little of it credible. There are clever and funny elements but style dominates over substance.

In the Midst of Winter, by Isabel Allende

An unlikely friendship forms between three very different people in the depths of a New York winter. Exuberant Chilean writer Luisa Maraz has lived in the Brooklyn basement flat of her boss, stitched up academic Richard Bowmaster, for several months but he has resisted her friendly overtures. A minor bingle and a dreadful storm sees them holed up in the house with a young Guatemalan woman, Evelyn Ortega, who is undocumented and living in fear. As they share their stories and slowly build a connection the three embark on a road trip in the snow to try to secure Evelyn’s future. The somewhat ludicrous road trip is a vehicle for exposure of the two women’s traumatic pasts. Both have been refugees but Luisa received more support in her escape from 70s political violence than Evelyn’s 2008 flight from a country overrun by gang violence. This novel is set in 2016 and one can only shudder at their likely experiences now. Richard’s history of more emotional turbulence is rather tacked on later in the book. His character is less well-rounded and less credible than the two women, making the romance that develops towards the end of the tale even less likely.

We Live in Time (2024), directed by John Crowley

Almut and Tobias are a young couple facing a significant health challenge. Their love story is told over three timelines, flashing back to how they first met and got together, how they cemented their relationship and how they each deal very differently with an uncertain future. This is confusing at first as it is sometimes difficult to distinguish between the timelines, until some radical changes in Almut’s appearance make it unmistakeable. Florence Pugh shines as Almut and there is sufficient chemistry between her and Andrew Garfield to believe they are soulmates. Their story is tender and often funny, with the ending more subtle than it could have been, but somehow the emotional punch doesn’t quite land.

Heart the Lover, by Lily King

A nameless narrator recounts her last year of college, with its academic challenges, rising level of debt and complicated romances. This chapter of her life ends in heartbreak. Fast forward a couple of decades, now a successful writer, she is married with two young boys. Her university days’ lover resurfaces unexpectedly, stirring up complicated feelings, guilt and secrets. A nickname from those early days persists and her true name is not revealed until the very last paragraph. This possibly signals a long awaited reckoning with her past and an acceptance of the decisions that have led to the life she now lives. Starting with an awkward relationship and ending with a sad goodbye and a note of hope, this is an emotional tale of growth through choices made and paths not taken. Perhaps giving up a love that doesn’t quite fit allows space for one that fits better.

The General Hospital, by Anne Buist & Graeme Simsion

Trainee psychiatrist Hannah Wright is back on the wards of the general hospital in this third novel following her life and career in psychiatry at the Menzies Hospital in Melbourne. It follows the same path as the first two, presenting case studies of mental illness and its treatment alongside Hannah’s personal and professional life. This is again done with warmth and heart, clearly showing the difficulties of working in the health system, particularly in the ‘poor relation’ that is mental health. There are successes as well as challenges and joy amidst the tragedy, as Hannah treats new and recurring patients and navigates her own family and relationship issues. Anne Buist is a psychiatrist and the case studies ring true, as does the hospital politics and resource and funding issues. But the examination is far more than clinical, leaving a sense of cautious optimism about the level of care that is possible.

Phosphorescence, by Julia Baird

The strapline of this title is - On awe, wonder and things that sustain you when the world goes dark. The book reads as a philosophy-come-memoir and is all about building resilience. Baird blends research with case studies and anecdotes to argue the case for maintaining love, friendship, faith and connection to the natural world to endure and thrive in a difficult world. She writes with clarity and conviction, dipping into her childhood and adolescence, early career, experience of motherhood and bouts of severe illness to illustrate her points. It comes across as honest and giving, promoting the worth of positivity and determination in living a good life.