With fiction you’re able to seamlessly blend reality and imagination to produce some kind of truth without the reader knowing quite how much of the actual you they’ve encountered. With memoir, so we assume, everything is as close to truth as it can be.

This month was a delightful one for reading. I found myself constantly engrossed in a one book or another and ended the month with my nose still in about three different novels!

I assume I must have snapped up Anna Wilson’s A Place For Everything on Netgalley as soon as I saw that it was a memoir about her mother’s late-diagnosis of autism but I have no memory of doing so. However, when I came across it one evening recently I was absolutely hooked within the first few lines.

Right. It may have felt like it lasted forever but January is finally over! It has been…okay!

I’ve been given this book multiple times. By my friend Becca as a speedy read on the train home from visiting her in Canterbury (I still have your copy by the way Becca).