By Max Porter
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There’s a village sixty miles outside London.
This village belongs to the people who live in it and to the people who lived in it hundreds of years ago. But it also belongs to Dead Papa Toothwort, a figure schoolchildren used to draw green and leafy, choked by tendrils growing out of his mouth.
Dead Papa Toothwort is awake.Tweet
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Absolutely loved this joyously different, poetic merge of middle England, myth and rural stereotypes through the delightfully unselfconscious Lanny, a child who invokes love, liking and unintentional pain in the people around him. It's beautifully written and was a pleasure to read