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.

Indie Authors vs Traditionally Published Authors: Does It Actually Matter to Readers?

  I have a confession to make.

For years, I didn't really think about who published the books I was reading.

I'd pick up a book because I liked the cover, somebody recommended it, I'd read another book by the author, or — let's be truthful — it was sitting temptingly on the supermarket shelf while I was supposed to be buying bread.

Publisher?

No idea.

Then I started reading more indie books and realised there is a whole conversation going on about indie authors versus traditionally published authors.

And sometimes it gets surprisingly heated.

What Is an Indie Author Anyway?

Usually, when people talk about an indie author, they mean an author who publishes independently rather than having their book published by one of the traditional publishing houses. The term can get a little fuzzy around small independent presses, but self-published authors increasingly began describing themselves as ‘indie’ during the growth of digital self-publishing.

The big difference is control.

A traditionally published author has a publishing company behind the book. The publisher normally handles things such as editing, cover design, production and distribution, although authors are still expected to play their part in promotion.

An indie author is effectively running a tiny publishing company.

They write the book.

Then somebody has to edit it.

Somebody has to format it.

Somebody has to create the cover.

Somebody has to upload it, price it, advertise it and convince complete strangers on the internet that they should read it.

And quite often that somebody is the author.

Frankly, I'm exhausted just thinking about it.

Professional indie authors increasingly hire editors, cover designers, publicists and other specialists, so the finished process can look remarkably similar to what happens inside a publishing house.

But Aren't Traditionally Published Books Better?

This is where people start throwing things.

There is still an assumption in some quarters that traditionally published automatically means good, while self-published means not good enough to get a publishing deal.

Research into readers' attitudes has found that this perception hasn't entirely disappeared. Some readers still regard traditional publishing as a kind of quality-control stamp and want stronger recommendations before taking a chance on a self-published title.

I understand where that comes from.

The uncomfortable truth is that anybody can self-publish a book.

And I mean anybody.

There is nothing stopping somebody from finishing their first draft at breakfast and publishing it before lunch.

No editor. No proofreader. Homemade cover featuring a photograph of their neighbour's cat for reasons that become increasingly unclear.

Those books exist.

I've encountered some.

But here's the other uncomfortable truth.

I've read traditionally published books that I thought were dreadful.

I've found typos in them. I've encountered plots that made absolutely no sense. I've finished hugely hyped bestsellers and stared at the cover wondering whether I'd accidentally read a different book from everybody else.

A publishing contract is not a magical certificate declaring:

THIS BOOK IS BRILLIANT.

It means a publisher decided to publish it.

Those are not quite the same thing.

Indie Books Can Be Fantastic

Some of the best books I've stumbled across have been independently published.

And I think stumbled across is important.

Because finding them is often the problem.

Traditionally published books can appear in Waterstones, supermarkets, newspapers, magazines and all over social media. They might have publicity teams, advance campaigns and hundreds of review copies circulating before publication day.

An indie author can be sitting at home thinking:

"Mum bought one."

That's rather a different starting point.

Online bookselling changed things enormously because digital shelves don't have the physical space restrictions of a bookshop. That helped independent authors reach readers directly and, eventually, put self-published books onto major bestseller lists.

But having the opportunity to sell a book isn't the same as getting anybody to notice it.

There are so many books.

That's where reviews, bloggers, BookTok, Bookstagram and good old-fashioned word of mouth become incredibly important.

Indie Authors Can Take Risks

This is probably what I find most interesting.

A big publisher needs books to sell.

Obviously an indie author would quite like their book to sell too — food and electricity remain annoyingly expensive — but they have more freedom to decide exactly what they're going to publish.

That can mean unusual genres, strange combinations of genres, enormous books, tiny books, unconventional protagonists or stories that somebody in a publishing meeting might decide are too difficult to market.

Creative control is one of the reasons authors themselves give for choosing independent publishing.

Sometimes those risks don't work.

But sometimes you discover something wonderfully different.

And I'd rather have a few strange books in the world than every novel being designed by committee to resemble the last bestseller.

Traditional Publishing Has Advantages Too

Of course it does.

I'm not joining Team Indie and preparing to throw tomatoes at Penguin Random House.

Traditional publishing can give authors professional editorial support, production expertise and, importantly, much greater access to physical bookshops and traditional distribution.

There is also something reassuring about knowing that several people have been involved before the book reaches you.

Does that guarantee I'll enjoy it?

Absolutely not.

But there is normally a professional production process behind it.

So Which Is Better?

Neither.

There. I've solved the internet.

I don't think indie versus traditional is particularly useful when deciding whether a book deserves to be read.

There are brilliant indie books.

There are terrible indie books.

There are brilliant traditionally published books.

And there are traditionally published books I've finished only because abandoning them felt like admitting defeat.

What matters to me is whether the story is good.

Has the book been properly edited?

Does it make me care about the characters?

Am I still thinking about it the following morning?

Did I stay up until 1 a.m. saying, one more chapter, despite knowing perfectly well that I had to get up the next day?

If the answer is yes, I really couldn't care less whose logo is printed on the copyright page.

Perhaps that's the nicest thing about being a reader.

We don't actually have to choose a side.

We can have both.

And given the current state of my bookshelf, apparently I intend to.

Book Review: Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus

 

★★★★★ - Five Stars

I wasn't sure I was going to like this book.

There. I've said it.

I'd seen Lessons in Chemistry absolutely everywhere, and sometimes when a book has been hyped quite this much, I become strangely reluctant to read it. Everyone tells you it's wonderful, expectations become ridiculous, and you almost feel as though you're doing something wrong if you don't love it.

Then I met Elizabeth Zott.

And that was that.

Set in California in the 1950s and early 1960s, Lessons in Chemistry follows Elizabeth, a brilliant chemist trying to build a career in a world where far too many men think the words ‘woman’ and ‘scientist’ simply don't belong in the same sentence. Her life takes an unexpected turn and eventually sees her become the reluctant presenter of a television cooking programme called Supper at Six.

Except Elizabeth doesn't really believe in simply teaching women how to cook.

She's teaching chemistry.

And, without entirely intending to, she's teaching them that perhaps they don't have to accept the lives other people have decided they should lead.

I loved her.

Elizabeth is clever, literal, stubborn and completely unwilling to make herself smaller simply to make other people more comfortable. This causes her an extraordinary amount of trouble.

There were moments when I wanted to cheer for her and others when I wanted to reach into the book and say, ‘Elizabeth, perhaps don't say that particular thing out loud.’

She would have ignored me.

Obviously.

What I hadn't expected was how dark the novel could be. The bright cover and all the talk about the funny bits had somehow convinced me I was getting a fairly light read about a female scientist who ends up on television.

It isn't.

There is grief here. There is sexism, discrimination, abuse and the casual cruelty of people who have power over somebody they consider less important than themselves. Some of it made me genuinely angry.

And yet the book is also very funny.

That's quite a balancing act, and for the most part I thought Garmus pulled it off beautifully. One minute something awful is happening and a few pages later I was laughing again.

Then there is Six-Thirty.

Six-Thirty is the dog.

Six-Thirty is magnificent.

I am not accepting arguments on this matter.

The supporting characters were actually one of my favourite parts of the novel. Elizabeth may sit at its centre, but gradually this little collection of people forms around her, and some of the friendships were every bit as important to me as the romantic relationship.

The novel has clearly struck a chord with an enormous number of readers. It currently sits at around 4.28 stars from well over a million Goodreads ratings and won the Goodreads Choice Award for Best Debut Novel in 2022.

That doesn't mean everybody loves it.

One criticism I can understand is that Elizabeth occasionally feels almost too modern for the period. There were moments when I became very aware that I was reading a twenty-first-century novel about the 1950s and 60s rather than feeling completely immersed in that era. Some readers have also found the chemistry references heavy-handed or the story less subtle than they expected.

I can see where those criticisms come from.

They just didn't stop me enjoying it.

I also suspect your reaction to Elizabeth herself will determine how you feel about the book. If her bluntness irritates you in the first fifty pages, you're probably in for a very long 400 pages.

I found her refreshing.

What stayed with me most, though, wasn't the television programme or even the chemistry. It was the idea of how exhausting it must be to know you're good at something and constantly have people insist that you can't possibly be good at it because you're the wrong sex.

Elizabeth doesn't want special treatment.

She wants to be allowed to do her work.

Apparently, that's revolutionary.

By the time I finished, I understood why this book had been sitting on bestseller tables for so long. It made me laugh, made me furious and, unexpectedly, made me cry.

So once again, the enormously hyped book has won.

I'm beginning to find this annoying.

#KindleUnlimited: Is It Actually Worth Paying For?

 I have a slightly dangerous relationship with #KindleUnlimited.

I subscribe.

I download far too many books.

I look at my bank statement and wonder whether I really need another monthly subscription.

I contemplate cancelling it.

Then I find three books I want to read and decide I'll keep it for another month.

Repeat indefinitely.

But if you've never tried #KindleUnlimited, what actually is it? And more importantly, is it worth £9.49 a month?

So, What Is #KindleUnlimited?

The easiest way to describe #KindleUnlimited is as a subscription library for ebooks.

You pay a monthly fee and can borrow books from Amazon's #KindleUnlimited catalogue rather than buying each book individually. In the UK, it currently costs £9.49 per month. Despite the name, you don't actually need a #Kindle either; you can read through the free #Kindle app on a phone, tablet or computer.

You can have up to 20 titles borrowed at once, and there are no due dates. Once you've reached twenty, you simply return something before borrowing another.

And no, you don't get to keep the books forever.

Think library rather than Netflix download.

If you cancel your membership, you can carry on reading your borrowed books until the end of the current billing period. After that, you lose access to them.

But Are ALL #Kindle Books Included?

No.

And I think this is probably the biggest misunderstanding about #KindleUnlimited.

The word Unlimited makes it sound as though you can wander into the #Kindle Store, point at anything you fancy and say, "I'll have that."

You can't.

Only books included in the #KindleUnlimited catalogue are available as part of your subscription, and titles can enter and leave that catalogue.

This means you might search for the latest bestseller everybody is talking about and discover that it isn't included.

Which is mildly irritating when you're already paying £9.49 a month.

On the other hand, there are millions of titles available, and this is where Kindle Unlimited becomes interesting.

It's Brilliant for Discovering Authors

This might actually be the best thing about it.

When I'm buying an ebook outright, even if it's only £3.99 or £4.99, I'll usually look at the reviews and think about whether I really want it.

With #KindleUnlimited?

"That looks interesting."

Click.

And suddenly I'm reading it.

If I don't like it, I return it.

No money wasted.

That makes me much more adventurous with my reading. I'll try an author I've never heard of, pick up something with only a handful of reviews or wander into a genre I wouldn't normally spend money on.

Sometimes they're terrible.

Sometimes I find an author and immediately read their entire backlist.

That's half the fun.

When Does It Become Good Value?

This is where I think you have to look at how much you actually read.

At £9.49 per month, you're paying £113.88 a year if you keep the subscription continuously.

If you normally read one £3.99 ebook every month, #KindleUnlimited probably isn't saving you anything.

Two £4.99 books?

You're roughly breaking even.

Three, four, five or more books every month?

Now it starts looking considerably more attractive.

And if you're the sort of person who can disappear into a ten-book series and emerge three weeks later looking slightly bewildered, #KindleUnlimited can be excellent value.

What About Audiobooks?

This is a nice extra.

Some #KindleUnlimited books include audio narration, although certainly not every book does. Amazon says thousands of audiobooks are available through the service; you need to look for the narration/headphones indicator on eligible titles.

So I wouldn't subscribe purely as an alternative to #Audible.

But if you already want #KindleUnlimited for ebooks, the included audiobooks are a lovely bonus.

#KindleUnlimited or BorrowBox?

This is where things get interesting.

Because after my enthusiastic ramble about BorrowBox, there is an obvious question:

Why pay Amazon £9.49 every month when the library lets you borrow ebooks for free?

And the answer is... you might not need to.

If BorrowBox has the books you want and you're happy waiting for popular titles, use your library. Seriously. Free wins.

But the two services feel quite different.

BorrowBox is a proper library system. A digital copy can be unavailable because somebody else has borrowed it, so you reserve it and wait.

#KindleUnlimited doesn't have waiting lists for titles currently in its catalogue. If a #KU book is available, you can borrow it straight away.

For impatient readers — hello — that's rather appealing.

So, Is #KindleUnlimited Worth It?

For some readers, absolutely.

I'd say it's worth considering if you read several books every month, enjoy discovering new or independent authors, devour long series, or regularly find books you want in the #KU catalogue.

If you only read one or two books a month, mostly want the big new releases, or already get everything you need through your library, I'd save the £9.49.

There's also nothing stopping you from dipping in and out. Amazon allows you to cancel at any time, and currently even offers the option of pausing a monthly membership for one month in eligible circumstances.

And that's probably the sensible approach.

Subscribe when you've spotted a pile of books you want.

Read them.

Cancel.

Walk away feeling financially responsible.

Then accidentally resubscribe three months later because you've found a twelve-book series and the first one has a dragon on the cover.

You know how it goes.