The sequel nobody wants. After a decade of the Tories, could it get any worse? Spoiler – it does. Towards the end of 2021, Britain had been frogmarched into an escalating series of surreal calamities. Brexit was a disaster, the NHS was in crisis, the government was bathed head-to-toe in impropriety, senior Tories were still acting as though the public purse was their personal feed-trough, and the air crackled with anger about PartyGate. All of which led to an inglorious start to 2022: the year the UK saw two monarchs, three prime ministers and four chancellors. From Boris Johnson, who trashed our international reputation and handed billions to his mates so they could ineptly fight a pandemic while he stayed at home, shagging and acting as a super-spreader; to Liz Truss, a drive-by prime minister who managed to kill off the queen and crash the economy in a single week. And now we’re led by Rishi Sunak, who doesn’t know how to use a credit card, drives a pretend car, and grinningly promises even more poverty. Four Chancellors and a Funeral delivers more of Russell Jones’s signature scathing wit, combining a detailed historical record of 2021 and 2022, with acerbic commentary, all of it leavened by jokes at the seemingly endless maelstrom of failures, nincompoops and hypocrisies.

In 2020 the United Kingdom reached a bewildering milestone: ten successive years of Conservative rule. In that decade there were three prime ministers, each in turn described as the worst leader we ever had; ministerial resignations by the hundred; and an unrelenting stream of ineffectual, divisive bum-slurry oozing from 10 Downing Street. The Decade in Tory is an inglorious, rollicking and entirely true account of ten years of demonstrable lies, relentless incompetence, epic waste, serial corruption, official police investigations, anti-democratic practices, abuse of power, dereliction of duty and hundreds of thousands of avoidable deaths. With his signature scathing wit, Russell Jones breaks down the government’s interminable failures year by year, covering everything from David Cameron’s pledge to tackle inequality – which reduced UK life expectancy for the first time since 1841 – through the bewildering storm of lies and betrayals that led to Brexit, devastating education cuts, serial mismanagement of the NHS and Boris Johnson’s calamitous response to the Covid-19 pandemic. It will leave you gasping and wondering: can things possibly get any worse?

Tom has decided he doesn't want to live. Adam wishes he had a choice. Tom's lost his job and now he's been labelled 'spermless'. He doesn't exactly feel like a modern man, although his double life helps. Yet when his secret identity threatens to unravel, he starts to lose the plot and comes perilously close to the edge. All the while Adam has his own duplicity, albeit for very different reasons, reasons which will blow the family's future out of the water. If they can't be honest with themselves, and everyone else, then things are going to get a whole lot more complicated.

Swim out into the Pacific and look back to the shore. To the couple kissing in the hot afternoon, and the young girl rollerskating along the front, and the family setting up camp on the soft, warm sand. To the blues and yellows and pinks of fierce, determined revelry. Santa Monica, where the wooden pier juts out into the Pacific Ocean, marks the end of Route 66. The great American journey west culminates here, and it is on this short stretch of coast that Sarah Lee began shooting her photographic series in 2015. In West of West Sarah Lee and Laura Barton explore the idea of the West in shaping American identity, with its idealism and notions of the frontier, and what the American West means in an age of political turbulence, when the East is the rising global force and the frontier is shifting once more.

"A work that is as disturbing as it is empathetic, as beautiful as it is riveting." —Eimear McBride, New Statesman In the aftermath of the Norman Invasion of 1066, William the Conqueror was uncompromising and brutal. English society was broken apart, its systems turned on their head. What is little known is that a fractured network of guerrilla fighters took up arms against the French occupiers. In The Wake, a postapocalyptic novel set a thousand years in the past, Paul Kingsnorth brings this dire scenario back to us through the eyes of the unforgettable Buccmaster, a proud landowner bearing witness to the end of his world. Accompanied by a band of like-minded men, Buccmaster is determined to seek revenge on the invaders. But as the men travel across the scorched English landscape, Buccmaster becomes increasingly unhinged by the immensity of his loss, and their path forward becomes increasingly unclear. Written in what the author describes as "a shadow tongue"—a version of Old English updated so as to be understandable to the modern reader—The Wake renders the inner life of an Anglo-Saxon man with an accuracy and immediacy rare in historical fiction. To enter Buccmaster's world is to feel powerfully the sheer strangeness of the past. A tale of lost gods and haunted visions, The Wake is both a sensational, gripping story and a major literary achievement.

'Superb, moving, beautiful' Joanna Cannon, author of The Trouble with Goats and Sheep He will be allowed to visit his mother soon. His mother who is terminally ill, his mother who he has been barred from seeing as he recovers from his own bout of pneumonia. Until then, with the help of his physiotherapist Freya, he must navigate his increasingly empty and isolated existence: his father, who finds solace in the bottom of a glass; his Nana Q, whose betting-slip confetti litters her handbag; his friends, who simply wouldn’t understand. Time passes with the promise of soon, but one hundred and fifty-two days later the boy will come face to face with his grief, and move beyond to a world full of possibility, hope and love.