The Bullet that Missed by Richard Osman is the latest in the very popular ‘Thursday Murder Club’ series, featuring the elderly residents of Coopers Chase. It’s tremendously good fun. Mostly cosy crime with a few mobsters and murders thrown in. This latest is probably a little more far-fetched than its predecessors, but the series is pure escapism so I try not to think too much about the feasibility of 70 or 80-somethings gadding about after armed and well-connected criminals.
I ADORED The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman, released in 2020. I loved the comfort and familiarity of his characters and writing.
The Man Who Died Twice is the second in the series but it doesn’t matter if you’ve not read the first. Other than having met the characters before, there’s no backstory really required to pick things up with the residents of Coopers Chase community known as the Thursday Murder Club… a quartet that revisits cold cases from the comfort of the restaurant of their retirement village, usually with a few bottles of wine to lubricate their minds.
The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman came as a huge surprise. I’d requested it thinking it sounded a bit quirky but at the same time unsure I wanted to hang with a bunch of old people talking murders.
But it’s addictive. It’s cleverly-written, extremely funny and offers up some delightful characters. It reminded me of Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine, Britt-Marie was Here and The Single Ladies of Jacaranda Retirement Village. With a side or two of murder thrown in for good measure.
The blurb of The Spill by Imbi Neeme talks about the relationship between two sisters who remember their childhoods quite differently.
I was intrigued by that as I often have very specific memories of events from my childhood or teenage years which my mother debunks. They feel real or true to me and yet mum is like… “That didn’t happen.” It’s weird, to misremember things. I ponder how those memories were planted in my head. Were they things I wanted or thought at the time, or have they replaced the real events with the advantage of hindsight or wistfulness years later.
Anyone who follows my social media accounts (or reads the non-bookish posts on my blog) will know my journey down the tiny house-loving slippery slope began with an innocent little #vanlife instagram obsession. I poured over picture after picture of campervans, minibuses, RVs, ‘skoolies’ and so forth – renovated into something sleek and sophisticated or bohemian and trippy.
I knew little about this book going into it. I knew of Melina Marchetta’s young adult fiction – although I haven’t read Saving Francesca, On the Jellicoe Road or Looking for Alibrandi – I’ve certainly heard of them and seen the popular Australian movie based on the latter.
But Tell the Truth, Shame the Devil sounded very different to her past work. It’s targeted at adults, for a start. But it’s also more ‘my’ sort of book if that makes sense: a mystery to be solved; secrets to be uncovered. And it didn’t disappoint on either count.