43 The First Act of Summer, Joanna Glen
This has been compared to The Paper Palace but is set on the Dorset coast not far from me. Hester and Elias spend their summers joined at the hip, best friends until hormones hit and things get complicated. One day Hester does something unforgivable after which things will never be the same again.
I almost gave up on this 1/3 of the way in as it felt predictable and the writing was clunky. But I liked the humour and the honesty - it really did take me back to those teenage friendships, with all their awkwardness and inconvenient feelings.
44 Retirement Rebel, Siobhan Daniels
Real life memoir of a woman who sold everything on retirement and bought a motorhome. I really wanted to like Daniels as I admire what she has done. And she's right about making the most of life and not writing yourself off as you age. But this book seriously needed an editor - way too many pointless anecdotes, like being stuck with a rambling and tipsy auntie at a wedding.
45 The Two Roberts, Damian Barr
Picked this up at the library after @MaterMoribund 's excellent review. Loved the first half, where the two boys arrive at the Glasgow School of Art and fall in love: with art, with life and (dangerously) with each other. It's 1933 and their feelings for each other could bring ostracism, violence or prison. There's a beautiful slow burn romance full of longing for everything they've never thought they could have - their discovery of art mixed with their discovery of one another.
Unfortunately, though, I really disliked the second half. Things fall apart as the two artists find success and decline into alcoholism and vicious arguments. This could have been really affecting as a personal story, but Barr chooses to concentrate more on name-dropping the famous crowd that they were mixing with, and a self-consciously camp Soho bohemianism, which for me crowded out the more interesting stories of the couple's declining relationship and artistic fortunes.
I also feel really uncomfortable with made-up stories about real people, especially ones who have lived relatively recently. Barr says in his Afterword, "I've tried not to let the truth get in the way of a good story". And I know that he has written this as a tribute, trying to fill in parts of their story which were deliberately suppressed or lost as the men had to hide things about themselves. But it doesn't sit right with me - making up not just their words and actions but their thoughts and feelings, including in their most intimate moments.
Someone I loved very much (who is now dead) ended up as a character in a book (after having spent a short time in close proximity with some Famous Artsy People) and it was horrible to see how wrong the author got them, when they are no longer here to speak for themselves. It's certainly left me uncomfortable with these kind of books.