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{{newreview
|author=Helen Phillips
|title=Some Possible Solutions
|rating=4
|genre=Short Stories
|summary=Picture a world where you, a new mother, move to a town where you slowly start to realise that every other woman seems a replica of you – dressing and doing as you do. Consider a place where you have a perfect other half – most literally – but it's only to be found on an alien planet. Or how about the woman who suddenly finds she can see everything and everyone else alive as having no skin, just organs, tissue and bone as if everyone was having a Gunther von Hagens plastination job? A lot of these stories are hard to summarise without dropping into the voice of the ''Twilight Zone'' narration, but they're not specifically genre works – they're just further examples of this author's unsettling look at the bizarre elements of life.
|amazonuk=<amazonuk>1782273425</amazonuk>
}}
{{newreview
|author= K S Merbeth
|summary=''Equus'', ''Waiting for Godot'' and ''A Mid-summer Night's Dream'' – three very distinctive plays, and my favourite three, out of which you won't often get me choosing just one. But were I to do so, it might actually be the last, for the simple reason I would delight in playing any and all characters from it. Yes, I know Hermia and Helena look a bit implausible now – but I put it to you stranger things happen on stage… Some of the strangest things involve a player himself, a lowly actor who gets given an ass's head and is forced to be the enamoured of a fairy queen. It's this section of the play that this book concentrates on, in quite stunning form.
|amazonuk=<amazonuk>184365329X</amazonuk>
}}
{{newreview
|author=Matt Haig
|title=How to Stop Time
|rating=4.5
|genre=General Fiction
|summary=Tom is an albatross. That's not to say he has a freakish wingspan, or anything, but it means he's not a mayfly. In contrast to all us regular humans with our temperamental bodies living out short lifespans, he ages at a speed roughly one-fifteenth of that at which we do, and barely gets touched by any disease. It means he will live for several more centuries than the ones he has witnessed so far, but ever since his mother was drowned as a witch due to his teenaged self never ageing, he has known the best thing for him – and others – is to regularly move on. Solitude has been tempered since the late Victorian era, when other people even older than him press-ganged him into their society of albatrosses, but the fact of the matter is that falling in love really is a no-no. But that's not to say it never happened, and that's not to say that he can't feel things for the albatross daughter he's not seen for centuries. It might be the only thing he has to live for…
|amazonuk=<amazonuk>1782118616</amazonuk>
}}