Where to start, oh where to start… Let’s go with The Man from the Ministry by James JD Mitchell – a novel based very much on Mitchell’s family’s life during the 2nd World War. As one who has written extensively about the war, though born after it, I had no idea that a man from the Ministry could turn up at the door of a journeyman’s farming family and order them to move to a different but designated farm – just like that. But he could because the shortage of farmhands meant that the Government had to intervene in order to provide as much food as possible for the population. This meant targets for farmers, and, of course, workers to make this possible.

The Man from the Ministry tells the story of the lives of an ordinary and large faming family who travelled the south west of England in the service of the many grand estates who owned most of the farms at that time. Written in the first person, and in an honest committed style, this is a book that fascinates and resonates in its portrayal of a large almost itinerent family, the pressures it brings, the sense of the seasons, the countryside, the closeness of siblings.

Let’s stick with nostalgia and Richard Littlejohn’s Littlejohn’s Lost world. Those familiar with Littlejohn’s column in the Mail will expect a delicious and funny turn of phrase when considering serious matters. They are not to be disappointed. Born when wartime rationing was still in force (not to be finished until the mid 50s) a world where children ran about freely with friends in the streets, we accompany Littlejohn into his parents’ past, and are with him as he remembers and revisits his own. He found it changed, gone even. I know the feeling because I tried to find the house where I spent many happy childhood years, including the huge, then, pear tree I would climb. All gone, or so changed I couldn’t recognise anywhere, not even the beck where we fished for minnows with jam jars on strings, ate our jam sandwiches, with a bottle of pop to share. As I read I laughed, remembered, grew thoughtful. It’s a funny poignant read. It is a pleasure.

Finally, one of my favourite Australian authors, Peter Temple writing of one of my favourite characters: Jack Irish, in a thriller called White Dog. What can I say? From the backdrop of the Old Boy Fitzroy supporters in the local, and the horse racing trio, to the action: Jack Irish, ex lawyer, is asked to look into Sarah Longmore’s defence he’s happy to do so, after all, when somone as guilty as Sarah appears, it’s bound to be cut and dried. Oh… Oh… read it and discover that all is not as it seems, and best of all, the crime thriller is delivered in Temple’s crisp funny turn of phrase, which when required has the power to move the heart, crack it even.

All these books are available on Amazon.