See @adamroberts.bsky.social’s review of MOON OVER BRENDLE by @jeffnoon.bsky.social, “an absorbing, involving solution to a beautiful puzzle, an expertly modulated coming-of-age story, a vividly rendered magical-realist account of a place and time...”

Moon Over Brendle by Jeff Noon: Review by Adam Roberts - Locus

Moon Over Brendle, Jeff Noon (Angry Robot 978-1-83673-030-9, £9.99, 256pp, tp) May 2026. Noon's fifteenth novel is a departure for him as a writer, and at the same time, though this is going to sound paradoxical, quintessential Noon: tonally familiar, gratifyingly dislocating. It reads as his most personal novel, approaching autofiction, almost autobiography: A working-class boy in the North West of England who, like Joyce's Stephen Dedalus or Proust's Marcel, …Read More

locusmag.com

Rather lovely bit of bookmail yesterday with titles from @reversediorama.bsky.social and @jeffnoon.bsky.social. 2nd this year from Keenan as i picked up Boyhood, his new fiction when back in Glasgow but this one is collected music writings which starts with a piece on the mighty Pere Ubu

Thank you!

Jamedi@jamreads.com · last mo.

Moon Over Brendle, by @jeffnoon.bsky.social (pub by @angryrobotbooks.bsky.social) is an ode to the creative process with the distinctive weirdness of Noon's writing; it's difficult to capture in words how I felt about this book (it's brilliant). Full thoughts: jamreads.com/reviews/moon... 💙📚

Check out Paul Magrs talking about Moon Over Brendle. www.youtube.com/watch?v=sHrJ... @angryrobotbooks.bsky.social

An inspiring and fantastic midsummer read!

YouTube video by The Cosy / Cozy Bookish Show with Paul Magrs

youtube.com

The bugs are planted The hidden cameras are switched on The motion-sensors stand ready The lip-reader is prepared The tripwire awaits a footstep... All we need now is a subject

Repo Man he came a-calling He took away my pain That repo man he came a-calling He repossessed my dreadful pain O Mister Repo Man, I’m begging you Please bring it back again

The Moon Speaks Sorry for all the dogs howling, the perilous tides, the lunacy, and all the bad poems that I inspired. Sorry. Also, the werewolves. My fault. Truly sorry.

Your soul is in a queue. You have not been forgotten. You are not alone. Your spirit is important to us.

They imagined Kafka’s Castle as a holiday attraction. But it was never quite finished, the plans fading even as they were drawn up, the architect led away by the police for selling a building that never actually existed.

I rest by the overflow, where the city’s unwritten stories run down to the river, and from there to the sea: words words words words words words words words words, flowing through my fingers.

Moving outwards from Ground Zero, we encounter: 1) Black Earth 2) Zone of Whispers 3) Ghost Birds 4) Kingdom Ruled by Insects 5) Fog People 6) Normality 7) Ultra Normality 8) Town of No Hair 9) Gift Shop

I have travelled sixty-eight and a half times around the sun in a slowly degrading orbit. So yes, of course I’m a science fiction writer!

In total, over a period of twelve months, the company delivered twenty-five canisters of reality to Mr McLean’s home. It’s not enough: he’s still fading away at the edges.

Special offer on the Gogmagog eBook at Amazon, until June 26th. @angryrobotbooks.bsky.social

Moon Over Brendle? Don't listen to us, listen to Paul in Locus.

Locus Magazine@locusmag.bsky.social · 2mo ago

Moon Over Brendle by Jeff Noon: Review by Paul Di Filippo locusmag.com/review/...

Red of eye and crimson at the lips, the vampires pose in the all-night blood arcades, showing off their sickly sweet glamour. Ah well. Tomorrow, it’s back to work in the banks, call centres and insurance offices of the city.

Take off your shades, and your hat and the veil. Oh yeah, and the wig, the spray-on tan, and the photoshopped FX. Now at last we’re equal. Now we’re both invisible.

Tingle dust is best applied at night, spread sparingly over the skin. It is made from the residue of celebrity ghosts, from soft traces of charisma gathered from the air. (Warning: external use only.)

Where will you hide? In the void. How will we find you again, when the danger is over? Google: void, inhabitants thereof.

He’s on the high street everyday, sitting against the wall with his painted sign: “Ex Imperial Stormtrooper. Wounded at Battle of Hoth. Please give what you can.” His white and black helmet rests on the pavement next to him, cracked at temple and brow.

Sound and Vision (Remix) Original colour of the room in Berlin: red, red bloodstained red. Colour of the room when Bowie lived there: blue, blue, electric blue. Colour of the room now: grey, grey, fade to grey.

Fame: a dream in a mirror dreaming of itself, endlessly. Until the face is lost, lost entirely in the cloud of its own breath on the glass.

3/3) There is only one rule: data decays, data decays, data decays, data decays. Data decays. Connection is all I have left.

2/3) I praise the algorithms of my skull where the stories are born. These fragile, crumbling algorithms, each day a little weaker, each night a little closer to meltdown.

1/3) Words flow through my circuits, telling of romance, danger, dead bodies and dying machines. I am the last of the replicant writers.

Blade Runner: the Truth at Last Say what? He’s never even been to the Tannhauser Gate, never mind Orion! Time to die? Yeah, sure. Temporary Shutdown, more like. Believe me: Roy’s just biding his time.

'Moon Over Brendle' by @jeffnoon.bsky.social is not quite science fiction and not quite horror, it rests in that uneasy no-man’s land that the likes of Ray Bradbury used to exist in. Out now My SFBook.com review: sfbook.com/moon-over-br... @angryrobotbooks.bsky.social @caramalines.bsky.social

Some stories leap readily onto the page. Others escape the book and fly away. Some are trapped in the skull: they whisper to be set free.

Or, as Neil Young once said: Fe2O3.nH2O never sleeps.

The Anthology of Disappearance seeks stories from exciting young authors who would like their words to vanish instantly into dust and air.