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Explore Essays and memoir

Finished With Engines

Ian Jack

‘My father wrote a kind of autobiography in the years before he died.’

First Catch Your Puffin

Sean French

‘A man is rescued after years stranded on a desert island with two companions, one of whom died.’

First Sentence: Eliza Griswold

Eliza Griswold

‘This, of course, was years before anyone knew or cared who Boko Haram was.’

First Story

William Fiennes

‘We talked a lot about voice – the idea that everyone has a voice, their own voice, and this is something to be valued and celebrated.’

Flowers Appear on the Earth

Samantha Harvey

‘In their deepest sorrow the islanders buried the ashes of their forty-six dead’

Footplacers, London Transport, Owls, Wincer-Boise

Russell Hoban

‘All those footsteps have been gathered up into the footplacer, all those goings are gone.’

Foreign Bodies

Peregrine Hodson

‘We'd reached the end of the journey: a day and a night and then home. Perhaps that was our first mistake. We forgot where we were.’

Foreigners

Daniel Gascón

‘It would’ve been a magical moment if my neighbours hadn’t started fucking at that very second.’

Forklift Truck Driver Wins Literary Prize!

Adam Foulds

‘There are two options for the young writer and employment. There is the proper job, whatever it might be – law, advertising, medicine or the default choice for many, academia. Or there’s the menial, rent-paying job.’

Four Corners

Amitav Ghosh

‘Never had a wilderness seemed so utterly vanquished.’

Fragments of a Lament for Thelonious Monk

Russell Hoban

‘Always the slant rhyme with Thelonious, that was his Thelonious assault on the grey and civil devils of the ordinary. Walk tall and slanty, Thelonious; you live.’

Fugee

Hawa Jande Golakai

‘Now we’ve fizzled into a ridiculous unsaid, a flaccid tale of love, or lack thereof, in the time of Ebola.’

Full Disclosure

Zoë Heller

‘The speech he gave was bellicose. It was time, he told the people in the conference room, for them to pull their socks up.’

Getting Lost

Heidi Julavits

‘We continued to ski. The bon vivantedness of our exchanges became increasingly coded with a double-edged worry. Would we have to spend the night in the woods?’