Book Review: The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

 

★★★★★ - Five Stars

I knew how this book ended before I started it.

I mean, it's Achilles.

We've had a couple of thousand years to prepare ourselves.

So I went into The Song of Achilles feeling reasonably confident that knowing what was coming would protect me from becoming too emotionally involved.

This was optimistic.

By the end I was sitting there thinking:

Well, that was devastating.

Thanks very much, Madeline Miller.

The Song of Achilles retells part of the story of the Iliad, but instead of placing the famous Greek warrior at the centre of the narration, Miller gives the story to Patroclus.

Patroclus is an awkward young prince who, after a terrible incident, is exiled from his father's kingdom and sent to live at the court of King Peleus.

There he meets Peleus's son.

Achilles.

Beautiful, talented, confident Achilles, who seems destined for greatness before either of them is old enough to understand exactly what greatness might cost.

Their friendship gradually becomes something much deeper, and when the Greeks sail for Troy, Patroclus follows Achilles into a war that prophecy has already warned may destroy him.

I expected epic battles.

Gods.

Heroes.

Trojan horses.

Men standing around looking magnificent while somebody dramatically announced a prophecy.

And all of that world is there.

But this is really a love story.

And it is such a beautifully written one.

Patroclus Completely Won Me Over

At first, I wasn't sure about him.

He's nothing like Achilles.

He isn't a great warrior. He isn't particularly brave. He isn't the sort of man anyone is going to compose heroic songs about.

He's simply Patroclus.

And that's exactly why he works.

We're looking at Achilles through the eyes of somebody who doesn't see a legend.

He sees the boy.

The friend.

The man he loves.

It means that when everyone else starts talking about Achilles's destiny and glory, Patroclus understands what those grand words actually mean.

They mean danger.

They mean war.

And eventually, they mean loss.

That's what I found so powerful about the book.

We already know Achilles is supposed to become one of the greatest warriors in Greek mythology.

Patroclus would rather have Achilles.

And Then There's Achilles

Oh, Achilles.

There were moments when I adored him.

There were moments when I wanted to throw something at him.

He's charismatic and extraordinary, but Miller doesn't make him perfect.

Far from it.

Achilles knows he's exceptional.

Everyone has been telling him so since childhood.

His mother is a goddess. He has a prophecy hanging over him. He is destined to become famous.

That's probably not an ideal recipe for modesty.

As the novel moves towards Troy, you begin to see how dangerous his pride can become.

And this is where I started shouting at the book.

"Achilles, don't."

Achilles does.

"ACHILLES."

Achilles continues doing it.

Greek mythology would have been considerably shorter if these people had occasionally listened to sensible advice.

I Loved the Mythology

I think one of the reasons this book has become so popular is that you don't need to know much about Greek mythology before reading it.

If you've read the Iliad, you'll recognise an enormous amount.

If your entire knowledge of Troy comes from vaguely remembering Brad Pitt running around without many clothes on, you'll still be fine.

Miller makes the mythology accessible without making it feel silly.

The gods are real.

Prophecies matter.

Centaur teachers exist.

A goddess can emerge from the sea and make everybody extremely uncomfortable.

But none of it feels strange within the world of the novel.

Thetis, Achilles's immortal mother, is particularly memorable.

I was frightened of her and she wasn't even angry with me.

It Is Quite a Slow Book

This won't work for everybody.

The first half takes its time.

We spend a lot of pages with Patroclus and Achilles growing up, training and gradually becoming closer.

Even when they reach Troy, this isn't suddenly transformed into an action novel.

There are battles, certainly, but Miller is far more interested in the people involved than in giving us page after page of swords going through various unfortunate Trojans.

I liked that.

But if you're expecting Gladiator: Ancient Greece Edition, you may wonder when everyone is going to get on with it.

For me, the slower beginning is what makes the ending work.

You've spent so much time with these two.

You know them.

And because you know them, you care what happens.

Which is unfortunate.

Because...

Well.

Achilles.

Knowing the Ending Makes It Worse

This was the surprise.

I thought knowing the mythology would reduce the tension.

Instead, it created it.

You know something terrible is waiting.

Every happy moment has this little shadow behind it.

Every decision matters because you know where the road eventually leads.

There were several moments when I desperately wanted Miller to rewrite the myth.

Just this once.

Let everybody pack up and go home.

Helen can sort herself out.

Troy will be fine.

Achilles and Patroclus can get a little cottage somewhere.

Perhaps grow olives.

Unfortunately, Madeline Miller did not consult me.

And That Ending...

No spoilers.

Although I'm not entirely sure something can count as a spoiler when Homer got there first.

Still.

I'm saying nothing.

What I will say is that the final pages were beautiful.

Not flashy.

Not overdone.

Just quietly, horribly effective.

The Song of Achilles has become one of those books that seems to have found an entirely new audience years after it was first published, particularly through online reading communities. It has accumulated more than two million Goodreads ratings, with readers frequently praising Miller's prose and the emotional relationship between Achilles and Patroclus.

And yes.

This time I agree with the hype.

Completely.

I finished it, put it down and decided I needed something cheerful next.

Preferably involving absolutely no prophecies.

No wars.

No Greek heroes.

And definitely nobody called Achilles.

Blind Date with a Book: Brilliant Idea or a Very Expensive Way to Buy Something You Hate?

 I keep seeing Blind Date with a Book parcels everywhere.

Bookshops have them. Etsy is full of them. They appear on Instagram looking ridiculously pretty, usually wrapped in brown paper with string, little clues written on the front and perhaps a bookmark or a teabag tucked inside.

And I have to admit...

I love the idea.

But I also have questions.

Because apparently I'm supposed to hand over money for a book while agreeing not to know which book I'm buying.

This goes against every instinct I possess.

I read the blurb.

I look at the cover.

I check the genre.

Sometimes I read reviews.

Sometimes I put it down, pick it back up, wander around the shop for twenty minutes and then buy something completely different.

A Blind Date with a Book takes all of that away.

And that's rather the point.

What Exactly Is a Blind Date with a Book?

The basic idea is wonderfully simple.

A bookseller takes a book and wraps it so you can't see the title, author or cover. Instead, you're given a few clues.

Something like:

Enemies to lovers • grumpy hero • Scottish castle • family secrets • slow burn

You decide whether those clues tempt you enough to take the risk.

Then you buy it.

And you don't discover what you've actually bought until you unwrap it.

The idea appears to have originated with Elizabeth's Bookshops in Australia, where booksellers began wrapping recommendations in brown paper and writing clues on the outside to encourage customers to try books they might otherwise overlook.

It's essentially a bookseller saying:

Trust me.

Which is either charming or terrifying depending upon how particular you are about books.

Why Do I Like the Idea So Much?

Because covers influence me.

There.

I'm shallow.

We all say you shouldn't judge a book by its cover while standing in bookshops doing precisely that.

I've undoubtedly missed some wonderful books because the cover didn't appeal to me.

I've also bought some absolute rubbish because the cover was gorgeous.

Blind Date with a Book removes that problem.

You aren't choosing the pretty one.

You're choosing the story.

I really like that.

It also brings back something we've lost slightly through online shopping: surprise.

Amazon knows what I've bought.

My Kindle knows what I've read.

Algorithms know what people who bought this also bought.

Everything is constantly trying to predict what I'll like next.

Sometimes I don't want to be predicted.

Give me the mysterious brown parcel.

But There Is a Problem

What happens if I already own it?

This would be my biggest concern.

Imagine spending £15 or £20, getting ridiculously excited, unwrapping your mystery parcel and discovering...

Oh.

I've got that.

Some of the better Blind Date companies have obviously realised this.

For example, Bookish Blindside allows customers to share their Goodreads information and says it tracks books previously sent to avoid duplicates. It also chooses according to favourite genres, previous reads and preferred tropes rather than simply pulling a random novel off a shelf.

That's much more appealing to me.

If you're going to choose a book for me, I want you to know something about what I actually read.

Otherwise it's less Blind Date with a Book and more Lucky Dip from the Stockroom.

So Who Does Good Ones in the UK?

I had a nose around because there are loads of companies doing them now, and they're definitely not all offering the same thing.

One of the more interesting options I found was Book-ish. Their Blind Date with a Book currently costs £12 and is properly old-school: brown paper, no title or cover, and handwritten clues. You choose a category and take your chances.

That appeals to me if you want the actual blind date experience rather than something heavily personalised.

Then there's The Book Box, which currently offers Blind Dates from £10.99. This one gives you a surprisingly broad choice of genres, including cosy mystery, true crime, fantasy, romance, contemporary fiction, classics, sci-fi and even philosophy. The books are brand new and you choose from teaser descriptions before ordering.

I quite like that compromise.

You still don't know what you're getting.

But you're not going in completely blind.

Dryad Books is another interesting one, particularly for fantasy readers. You choose paperback or hardback and a genre, and they'll also accept your Goodreads or StoryGraph information to help avoid sending something you've already read. Their mystery books currently start at £9.99.

And if you want the whole treat myself because apparently surviving Tuesday deserves a present experience, there are companies that add extras.

GIGI & Co., for example, includes a new mystery book alongside a bookmark, reading tracker, drink, stickers and other bookish bits. You can also send them your Goodreads or details of books you've already read.

Tea.

Book.

Surprises.

I can see how this becomes a problem.

What About Subscriptions?

This is where things become even more dangerous.

Because apparently buying one mystery book isn't enough.

You can arrange for somebody to send you one every month.

The Blind Date Bookshop has monthly subscriptions starting at £10 including postage, with larger boxes containing multiple books and bookish extras. You give them your reading preferences beforehand, although their subscriptions have a minimum three-month term.

Tea Leaves & Reads also offers both a book-only Blind Date subscription and a larger book-box version. They use a questionnaire to find out about your reading preferences, which I think is a particularly good idea.

And The Mysterious Bookcase lets you provide your Goodreads account or a list of books you've already read. Their mystery books are gently used rather than new, which could be a nice option if you like the idea of giving preloved books another home.

New or Preloved?

This is something I'd definitely check before ordering.

Not every Blind Date with a Book contains a brand-new book.

And personally, I don't think there's anything wrong with that.

In fact, I rather like the idea of a preloved version if the price reflects it.

Goomoo, for example, currently offers a preloved mystery book from £4, with a teabag and bookmark included.

Four pounds?

Now we're talking.

At that price, I'd happily take a chance on something I'd never normally choose.

But if I'm paying £15–£20, I'd want to know whether I'm getting a new book, a used book or a whole box of extras before ordering.

Mystery book?

Yes.

Mystery regarding what I've actually paid for?

No.

Would I Buy One?

Yes.

But I'd choose carefully.

I think I'd want enough control to specify genres I absolutely don't want, and I'd favour a company that lets me provide my Goodreads or reading history.

Because there is surprise...

And then there is somebody sending me Book Four of a seventeen-book fantasy series involving shape-shifting dragons when I've never read Books One to Three.

I have limits.

As a gift, though, I think they're brilliant.

There's something much more exciting about receiving a beautifully wrapped mystery book than simply being handed a paperback you've already seen.

And for somebody who reads a lot, it might push them towards a book they'd never have chosen for themselves.

Which is really the whole point.

We spend so much time deciding what we like that perhaps occasionally it wouldn't hurt to let somebody else choose.

Worst-case scenario?

You hate it.

Best-case scenario?

You unwrap a book you've never heard of, start reading...

...and accidentally find a new favourite.

I think that's worth risking one bad date.

Book Review: Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens

 

★★★★☆ - Four Stars

I avoided this book for ages.

Not because I thought I wouldn't like it.

Because everybody else seemed to love it.

There comes a point with massively hyped books when I become slightly suspicious. You see them in every bookshop. Everyone in your reading group has read them. Your neighbour has read them. Somebody you haven't spoken to since 2009 suddenly appears on Facebook to announce they've read them.

Eventually, curiosity wins.

So I finally met the Marsh Girl.

And yes.

I understand what all the fuss was about.

Where the Crawdads Sing takes us to the marshlands of North Carolina, where Kya Clark grows up almost entirely alone. One by one, the members of her family leave until the marsh becomes both her home and her teacher. The people in nearby Barkley Cove know about Kya, but they don't really know her. To them, she's simply the strange, barefoot ‘Marsh Girl’ who lives beyond respectable society.

Then, in 1969, local golden boy Chase Andrews is found dead.

And everyone knows exactly who they want to blame.

What surprised me was how slowly this book unfolds.

I had somehow got it into my head that Where the Crawdads Sing was primarily a murder mystery.

It isn't.

There is a murder mystery, and it becomes increasingly important, but much of the novel is Kya's story: a lonely little girl growing into a fiercely independent young woman while surrounded by people who have already decided what sort of person she is.

Some readers have found that pace frustrating, particularly the long passages devoted to the marsh and its wildlife. That's one of the recurring criticisms amongst the otherwise enormously positive reader response.

I can understand it.

There is a lot of nature.

Birds.

Feathers.

Shells.

Insects.

Water.

Mud.

More birds.

If you're waiting impatiently for someone to get on with solving the murder, you may occasionally find yourself wondering why you're learning quite so much about marsh ecology.

But I rather liked it.

The marsh doesn't feel like scenery that's been placed behind the characters. It feels alive. Sometimes beautiful, sometimes dangerous and frequently indifferent to whatever the humans happen to be doing.

It is also the one thing that never abandons Kya.

And Kya is what made the book work for me.

Her childhood is heartbreaking, although there were moments when I had to stretch my belief rather further than I would normally like. A very young child surviving virtually alone for years, earning money, feeding herself and somehow avoiding the authorities requires a fairly generous suspension of disbelief.

I gave it.

Mostly.

Because emotionally, I believed in her.

Every time Kya allows somebody a little closer, you know how much it costs her. She desperately wants human connection but has learnt from childhood that people leave.

So when Tate enters her life and begins teaching her to read, it matters.

When Chase takes an interest in her, that matters too.

And when people hurt her...

Well.

I became rather protective of the Marsh Girl.

The romance elements were actually less interesting to me than Kya herself. What I loved was watching this supposedly uneducated and worthless girl reveal just how intelligent and observant she really is.

Everyone has underestimated her.

Repeatedly.

That was tremendously satisfying.

Then the murder investigation starts tightening around her.

The second half moved much faster for me, particularly once the courtroom scenes began. Suddenly all those quieter chapters about Kya's isolation matter because we understand precisely how the town sees her.

Is she being judged on the evidence?

Or because she is the Marsh Girl?

I had opinions.

Quite loud ones.

The novel has certainly connected with readers. It currently has a Goodreads average of around 4.37 stars from more than 3.7 million ratings, although the reviews also show a sizeable minority who found the story implausible or the descriptive prose too slow.

And I think that's fair.

There are things here that don't bear too much examination. There were coincidences I questioned and moments when Kya's abilities seemed almost too convenient.

But then I'd find myself back in the marsh with her and stop caring quite so much.

And the ending?

I'm saying nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

I will merely say that I closed the book, stared at it for several seconds and then went:

"Oh."

Followed shortly afterwards by:

"OH."

Which is always preferable to finishing a mystery and thinking, Well, that was obvious.

Was Where the Crawdads Sing perfect?

No.

Did I believe every single thing that happened?

Also no.

But did I become completely invested in this strange, lonely girl living amongst the gulls and grasses of the North Carolina marsh?

Absolutely.

Perhaps I should stop avoiding books just because everybody else loves them.

Although I'm making no promises.

Book Review: The Midnight Library by Matt Haig

 

★★★★☆ - Four Stars

I have a weakness for books about books.

Put a library on the cover and I'm already halfway to the till.

Tell me it's a magical library containing an infinite number of books representing all the different lives you could have lived?

Fine.

Take my money.

The Midnight Library follows Nora Seed, a woman overwhelmed by regret and convinced that her life has amounted to very little. When she reaches her lowest point, she finds herself somewhere between life and death in a mysterious library.

But these aren't ordinary books.

Each one contains another version of Nora's life.

What if she'd made a different decision?

What if she'd stayed with someone?

What if she'd pursued a different career?

What if she'd said yes instead of no?

Nora is given the extraordinary opportunity to find out.

I loved the idea immediately.

Because who hasn't wondered?

I can lose twenty minutes wondering what would have happened if I'd ordered something different for lunch, so give me the opportunity to investigate every major decision I've ever made and I'm going to need considerably longer than one night.

The clever thing is that Nora initially thinks she knows which decisions ruined her life.

She has a mental catalogue of regrets.

If only she'd done this.

If only she hadn't done that.

If only she'd been braver, more successful, more committed.

But actually experiencing those alternative lives proves rather different from imagining them.

And that was the part I enjoyed most.

We have an irritating tendency to imagine the road not taken as though it would inevitably have been the better one. We picture all the good things that might have happened without considering the completely different collection of disasters that could have been waiting around the corner.

The boyfriend you regret leaving might have made you miserable.

The dream career might not have felt like a dream once you were living it.

Getting the thing you desperately wanted might have meant losing something you didn't realise mattered.

Nora gets to discover that first-hand.

I also liked that the alternative lives aren't simply tiny variations on the same existence. Haig gets to have fun with the premise, sending Nora into wildly different versions of herself and allowing the book to hop between possibilities without becoming bogged down in any one of them.

It makes for a very easy read.

Perhaps a little too easy at times.

This is where I can understand some of the criticism the book has received. There were moments when I felt as though the message was being explained to me rather more clearly than necessary.

I got it.

Regret is complicated.

The apparently perfect life might not be perfect.

Happiness isn't necessarily waiting in the life you didn't choose.

You don't have to tell me again.

And again.

Occasionally the novel wanders rather close to self-help territory, which has divided readers. Some have found its message deeply moving and hopeful, while others have thought it overly sentimental or too obvious. That split is certainly visible in the enormous number of reader reviews the book has accumulated.

I landed somewhere in the middle.

I didn't find it life-changing.

But I did find it touching.

There were several moments that made me stop and think about the way we judge our own lives, particularly how easy it is to measure ourselves against things that never actually happened.

We're remarkably good at mourning imaginary versions of ourselves.

The successful one.

The richer one.

The thinner one.

The one who took that opportunity.

The one who didn't make that mistake.

Meanwhile, the real version of us is sitting here wondering why she can't possibly measure up to a person who doesn't even exist.

That's quite a thought.

The library itself was probably my favourite part of the novel. Endless shelves stretching away, each book containing another possible life.

Although knowing me, I'd completely forget about the existential crisis and start checking whether they had a crime section.

Priorities.

The Midnight Library won the Goodreads Choice Award for Fiction in 2020, and with millions of reader ratings since, it clearly struck a nerve.

I can see why.

It's accessible, imaginative, emotional and very easy to disappear into for a few hours.

Did I occasionally want it to trust me a little more to understand what it was saying?

Yes.

Did I still close the book feeling rather differently about the words what if?

Also yes.

And perhaps that's enough.

Book Review: The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides

 

★★★★☆ - Four Stars

I made a mistake before reading The Silent Patient.

I read the words:

“You won't see the twist coming.”

I hate being told that.

Because from that moment onwards, instead of behaving like a normal reader and enjoying the book, I become an amateur detective.

Was that important?

Why did he say that?

She's suspicious.

He's definitely suspicious.

Perhaps everybody is suspicious.

It's exhausting.

Fortunately, The Silent Patient still managed to keep me thoroughly entertained.

Alicia Berenson appears to have a perfect life. She's a successful painter, married to a well-known fashion photographer, and the couple live in a beautiful house in London.

Then one evening her husband, Gabriel, comes home.

Alicia shoots him five times in the face.

And never speaks another word.

Not to the police.

Not during her trial.

Not to the doctors treating her.

Nothing.

Years later, Alicia is being held at a secure psychiatric facility called the Grove, and psychotherapist Theo Faber becomes determined to work with her. He doesn't simply want to treat Alicia.

He wants to understand why she killed her husband.

That premise had me immediately.

There is something wonderfully unsettling about a character who refuses to speak. Everybody else gets to tell us who Alicia is — the doctors, the police, her relatives, the newspapers — but Alicia herself isn't explaining anything.

And, of course, that means I immediately wanted to know what she wasn't saying.

Theo narrates much of the story, and I liked him at first.

Then I wasn't sure about him.

Then I didn't trust anybody.

This is the problem with psychological thrillers.

They turn perfectly reasonable readers into paranoid lunatics.

The chapters are generally short, which makes this one incredibly easy to race through. I kept telling myself I'd read one more chapter and then discovered I'd somehow read another six.

Michaelides also uses extracts from Alicia's diary, giving us glimpses of her life before Gabriel's murder. I particularly liked these sections because they allow Alicia to have a voice without undermining the central mystery surrounding her silence.

The book isn't particularly action-packed.

Most of the tension comes from conversations, memories, observations and Theo gradually digging into Alicia's past. He begins talking to people who knew her and, inevitably, discovers that the apparently perfect life presented to the outside world wasn't quite as perfect as it looked.

Everyone seems to have something they're not saying.

Which brings us to the twist.

No.

I'm not telling you.

I will say that I had theories.

Lots of theories.

Some were sensible.

Some were increasingly ridiculous.

At one point I think I suspected somebody who barely appeared in the book.

Did I work it out?

Not completely.

I spotted part of what was happening, but Michaelides still managed to pull the rug out from underneath me when everything finally came together.

And I thoroughly enjoyed being wrong.

The ending seems to be the part that divides readers most. The Silent Patient has attracted millions of ratings across reader platforms and won the Goodreads Choice Award for Mystery & Thriller in 2019, but you'll also find plenty of readers who thought the twist was brilliant sitting alongside others who felt the psychology or plotting didn't stand up to closer examination. (goodreads.com)

I can understand both reactions.

If I sit here afterwards and start examining every detail with a magnifying glass, there are things I could question.

But while I was actually reading it?

I couldn't put it down.

And sometimes that's exactly what I want from a thriller.

I don't need every book to change my life.

Sometimes I just want something that makes me ignore the washing, forget what time it is and mutter:

"Oh, you sneaky sod."

The Silent Patient managed that beautifully.

Where Can You Get Free Books? And I Mean Actually Free - Not Pirated!

 Books are expensive.

There, I've said it.

I love buying books, I love bookshops, and I'm very much in favour of authors being paid for their work. Unfortunately, my bank account doesn't share my enthusiasm for acquiring books at the speed I would ideally like.

But before anyone goes sailing off across the internet with an eyepatch looking for questionable downloads, there are actually loads of ways to get books completely free and completely legally.

Free as in £0.00.

Free as in nobody has nicked it.

Free as in the author isn't going to hunt you down and demand their royalties.

So, where are all these mythical free books hiding?

1. Your Local Library

Let's start with the obvious one.

Join your library.

I know I keep banging on about libraries, but honestly, if you love books and aren't a member of your local library, you're missing out.

Membership is free, and you can borrow physical books without paying a penny. Most libraries also allow you to search their catalogue online, reserve books and then collect them when they're ready.

You don't even necessarily have to wander hopefully around the shelves looking for what you want.

Although I recommend doing that occasionally because you nearly always come home with something you weren't looking for.

And there's another very good reason to get that little library card...

2. BorrowBox

I've already written about how much I like BorrowBox, but it absolutely belongs on this list.

If your local library uses BorrowBox, your library card can give you access to ebooks and audiobooks from home.

Download the BorrowBox app, find your library service and sign in using your library membership details. You can then browse the books available through your particular library, borrow what's available and reserve books that somebody else has got their digital hands on first.

Different libraries have different catalogues and borrowing limits, so what you can access will depend on where you live.

The important bit?

It doesn't cost you anything.

This is particularly brilliant for audiobooks because they can be expensive to buy individually. If you listen regularly, it's well worth seeing what your library offers through BorrowBox.

The only slight problem is discovering a book you desperately want and finding yourself number 47 in the queue.

Still.

Free is free.

I'll wait.

3. BookBub

Now we're entering dangerous territory.

BookBub is one of those websites you join thinking:

I'll just have a little look.

Three weeks later, you're wondering why there are another 47 books on your Kindle.

BookBub is free to join and alerts readers to ebook deals. You choose the genres you're interested in and the retailers you use, and it shows you books that have been discounted.

A lot of them aren't completely free. You'll find plenty at 99p, £1.99 and other reduced prices.

But there are also genuinely free books.

When you find one you fancy, BookBub sends you to the retailer offering it, such as Amazon, where you can download it.

There is one very important thing to remember:

Check the price before you click Buy.

A free promotion might only last for a day or two. If you've opened an old BookBub email, the book may have returned to its normal price.

If it says £0.00, wonderful.

If it says £4.99, back away from the button unless you actually want to buy it.

BookBub is particularly good if you don't want to spend your life searching Amazon for offers because the offers come looking for you instead.

Which is convenient.

And terrible for the TBR.

4. Amazon's Free #Kindle Books

This is one that quite a few people don't seem to realise exists.

You do not need #KindleUnlimited to get free #Kindle books from Amazon.

Some #Kindle ebooks are simply priced at:

£0.00

Authors and publishers sometimes make books free temporarily as a promotion. It's particularly common with the first book in a series.

They give you Book One for nothing.

You read it.

You love it.

You discover there are another eleven books.

The author cackles somewhere in the distance.

It is a surprisingly effective strategy.

How Do You Find Them?

Go to Amazon and search for:

Free #Kindle books

Or be more specific:

Free #Kindle romance

Free #Kindle crime books

Free #Kindle fantasy

Free #Kindle historical fiction

Free #Kindle thrillers

You can also browse around the #Kindle Store and keep an eye on the bestseller charts and categories.

But there is an important distinction to watch for.

You want the actual #Kindle price to say:

£0.00

Don't confuse that with a book that says something along the lines of Read for £0.00 with #KindleUnlimited.

That's not actually a free book. You need a paid #KindleUnlimited subscription to read it.

If the #Kindle purchase price itself is £0.00, that's different.

You've effectively bought the book for nothing.

It's yours.

5. Project Gutenberg

If you like classics, you could probably stop buying books altogether and spend the rest of your natural life working your way through Project Gutenberg.

It offers thousands of older books that are in the public domain and can therefore legally be downloaded for free.

No subscription.

No monthly payment.

No dodgy download website.

And no handing over your credit card details.

You'll find authors including Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, the Brontës, Mary Shelley, Arthur Conan Doyle, Oscar Wilde and H. G. Wells.

You can download books in different formats or simply read them online.

Granted, you're probably not going to find last Tuesday's bestseller on there.

But if you've been telling yourself for seventeen years that you're finally going to read Pride and Prejudice, there really is no excuse left.

6. Authors' Newsletters

This one is very easy to overlook.

If there's an author you enjoy, join their mailing list.

Authors frequently offer readers a free story for subscribing to their newsletter.

It might be a short story.

A novella.

A prequel.

A bonus story featuring characters from one of their series.

Sometimes they'll even give away an entire novel.

It's also worth staying subscribed because authors often tell their newsletter readers when one of their books is going to be temporarily free.

Which means you don't have to keep checking.

They'll tell you.

Very considerate of them.

7. Follow Authors on Social Media

This works in much the same way.

Authors frequently announce promotions on Facebook, Instagram, Bluesky and other social platforms.

You might suddenly see:

FREE THIS WEEKEND!

And that is your cue.

Click.

Check that it really is £0.00.

Download.

Feel smug.

I've discovered authors this way that I probably wouldn't have risked buying when I'd never read anything by them before.

Which is exactly why authors offer books for free in the first place.

You try one.

You enjoy it.

Then you go looking for their other books.

Everybody wins.

8. Don't Assume Free Means Rubbish

I think this is worth saying.

There's sometimes an assumption that if a book is being given away, it can't be very good.

That's nonsense.

Yes, there are some questionable free books out there.

There are also some questionable books I've paid £9.99 for.

A free promotion is often simply marketing.

An author might be launching the next book in a series. They might want to introduce new readers to their work. A publisher might temporarily discount an older title. An indie author might make the first book in a series permanently free because they know readers who enjoy it are likely to continue with the series.

I've downloaded free books and abandoned them after twenty pages.

I've also downloaded free books and subsequently bought everything else the author had written.

Which, presumably, was their cunning plan all along.

So, Where Would I Start?

If you want to read as much as possible without spending a fortune, I'd start with:

Your local library.

Then check whether it gives you access to BorrowBox.

Sign up for BookBub so the free offers come to you.

Keep an occasional eye on Amazon's £0.00 Kindle books.

And if you enjoy classics, bookmark Project Gutenberg.

Between those, you can acquire a frankly ridiculous number of books without pirating a single one.

And that last bit matters.

Authors deserve to be paid for their work. Downloading a pirated copy because somebody has uploaded it illegally isn't the same thing as downloading a book an author or publisher has deliberately made free.

There are already more legal free books available than most of us could possibly read.

So there's really no need to put on the eyepatch.

Besides, I've seen my TBR.

I don't need to steal any more books.

I need to stop downloading the free ones.