21 brilliant, bizarre and downright bad beach books

BOOKS SO SHORT YOU’LL SOON BE BACK ON YOUR PHONE

Shunt’s Law states that the internet is better than books because there are more things on it, including recipes, dogs and naked people. And it’s hard to argue with that. Here’s a collection of brief reads that will provide the satisfaction of actually finishing a book, without keeping you from pointless Instagram doomscrolling.

Perfection by Vincenzo Latronico, translated by Sophie Hughes (2025)

So many of this summer’s hot books are chunky beyond belief (Atmosphere by Taylor Jenkins Reid, 322 pages, Dream Count by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, 416 pages). But thankfully at a dinky 120 pages, this acclaimed novel, shortlisted for this year’s International Booker Prize, will impress any passing intelligentsia while getting you back on Wordle in no time.

The English Understand Wool by Helen Dewitt (2022)

Not only is this fun, funny and a delight to read but also… 64 pages. 64 pages! Old Stephen King hasn’t even got the first axing in after 64 pages. He could learn a lot from Helen DeWitt.

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens (1843)

The great thing about this one is not only is it very short (about 100 pages), but you already know the story. It’s practically identical to The Muppet Christmas Carol, so it’s instantly recognisable (ghosts, urchins etc) and subsequently you don’t really need to concentrate very much. Just remember, if you’re trying to impress people with your knowledge of Dickens, the book doesn’t include a puppet frog singing a song about festive joy.

The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle (1969)

Yes, you may garner a few confused glances if you have this propped on your chest next to the swimming pool with no obvious toddler in sight. But compare this judgement with the fact that the book is 24 pages long and most of those are filled with pictures of caterpillars eating. Even if you take your time, you’ll be done in about 5 minutes. Cha-ching!

BOOKS YOU’LL HURL ACROSS THE FLOOR IN HORROR AND DISGUST

If, like me, you’re always looking for an excuse to abandon a book, this selection provides ample opportunity to confect an opprobrium, soliciting immediate literary extinction. 

Careless People by Sarah Wynn-Williams (2025)

It’s always nice to have your prejudices confirmed, and sure enough, this recent blockbuster exposed how the upper echelons of Meta/Facebook were just as venal and grim as we all imagined. The further you delve, the more you’ll ask, “WHY? WHY BE LIKE THAT?” You’ll require a shower after every chapter.

Cows by Mathew Stokoe (1998)

Described as a “phantasmagoria of extreme violence, death, sex, bestiality, self-surgery, and torture”, this novel is potentially too horrific to make it into the horror section. A young man is trapped in a bleakly squalid existence with a violently overbearing mother and a damaged dog. Then he starts working at the slaughterhouse. A good one to foist on your worst enemy.

‘70s Dinner Party by Anna Pallai (2016)

It’s so fascinating that food that was once considered delicious, nutritious and the height of sophistication now looks like primary coloured puke on tasteless cookware. Four words: ham and banana hollandaise.

Suggested Reading

If you only read one book this year, make it one of these

BOOKS WHERE YOU’LL HAVE TO REREAD THE FIRST PAGE AT LEAST 14 TIMES BEFORE GIVING UP

If disgust isn’t available to provoke literary abandonment, then unintelligibility will work just as well. These books made me cry.

Why Nobody Understands Quantum Physics: And Everyone Needs to Know Something About It by Frank Verstraete and Céline Broeckaert (2025)

This recent bestseller has been rightfully acclaimed as the perfect, clear-eyed introduction to a remarkably complex subject. But it still felt like my brain was being turned inside out. This is my fault.

The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman by Laurence Sterne (1759)

If anyone ever tells you that this is their favourite book, instantly run in the opposite direction throwing things behind you. It’s not their favourite book. They just want you to think it’s their favourite book. This is no one’s favourite book. I doubt that even Laurence Stern had it in his top ten. And there were only about 12 books written by the time this one popped up in 1759. 

The Recognitions by William Gaddis (1955)

Incredibly, I have read all 992 pages of this AND listened to all 47 hours and 55 minutes of the audiobook and I still missed the fact that one of the main characters castrates himself on the New York subway. I mean, how did I miss that? Twice? You’d think it would stick in the memory. This is not a slam on Mr Gaddis, it’s just to confirm that I’m an idiot.

The Waves by Virginia Woolf (1931)

In researching people’s reactions to this book, I did learn a new word: belabour. Someone suggested not belabouring over the content, but just let the words wash over you. What a lovely word, I thought. I then realised it’s not belabour (as in ‘bella-bore’) but be-labour (as in ‘be-labour’) and I did actually know that word and, again, my stupidity has been exposed and highlighted. Which may explain why I struggled with The Waves by Virginia Woolf.

BOOKS THAT ARE INSTANT RED FLAGS, MEANING PEOPLE PROBABLY WON’T BOTHER YOU

If you want to be left alone, and who doesn’t in this cesspool of a world, then holding a book that instantly tells those approaching that you’re almost certainly someone you don’t want to bother with, saves a considerable amount of time and effort. You don’t even have to read the books. In fact, I’d strongly advocate not doing that. Just using them as a diversionary prop is more than enough.

Original Sin: President Biden’s Decline, Its Cover-up, and His Disastrous Choice to Run Again by Jake Tapper and Alex Thompson (2025)

Remember, tears and sunblock are a lethal combination. Any recent books concerning politics, society, the environment or walking long distances on coastal paths for success and profit are sure to bring about strong feelings of anguish and involuntary caterwauling. Don’t do this to yourself. Not on holiday.

On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft, 25th Anniversary Classic Edition by Stephen King (2000/2025)

No, it’s too late. Put the pen down and hurl the notebook aside. Don’t even think about jotting down all the hilarious things that happened to you at the office or pouring your thoughts and feelings about your general emotional state into a Substack. No one cares and there’s too many of us doing that already. We don’t need another piranha in the tank.

Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace (1996)

This feels a lazy choice, but it’s now universally understood that if you promote, rhapsodise or are even seen reading Infinite Jest, then you’re simply someone that talking to would quickly become a baffling, pointless ordeal. 

Love, Lipstick and Lies by Katie Price (2013)

The fifth of Katie Price/Jordan’s autobiographies. I mean, reading this would suggest you’ve already read the first four and were happy to move onto number five, or else you’ve decided to start on number five, for inexplicable reasons. (Just to be clear, this isn’t a series like Proust’s À la recherche du temps perdu, but mainly the same story again, with a bit added on the end containing the stuff she’s done recently, rather like singing a round). Her latest autobiography, number eight, was called This is Me. Which begs the question, WHO WERE ALL THE OTHER ONES ABOUT THEN?

Anything by Michel Houellebecq/Ayn Rand

If you meet someone that can correctly pronounce the name of either of these authors with full confidence, then look around for the nearest National Express coach heading anywhere. That said, approaching the hotel breakfast buffet with a copy of The Fountainhead under your arm would probably provide unfettered access to the bacon salver.

BOOKS THAT ARE SO NICHE PEOPLE WILL JUST THINK THERE’S SOMETHING GENUINELY WRONG WITH YOU

The literary equivalent of juggling on a unicycle. You see it, you register it, you don’t want anything to do with it.

Everything Is Tuberculosis: The History and Persistence of Our Deadliest Infection by John Green (2025)

Just read this intently in a public space while coughing violently into a handkerchief and ensure yourself a person-free afternoon.

A Year in a Ditch by JC Jeremy Hobson (2016)

Not just a year in a ditch, but the entire history of ditches from medieval times to the present day. Their construction, environmental importance and influence on literature are all exposed in intimate detail. Also contains some nice photos of ditches.

Talks with Trees: A Plant Psychic’s Interviews with Vegetables, Flowers and Trees by Leslie Cabarga (2020)

Our current monarch is known for talking to his plant pals. But what would happen if the plants suddenly started psychically responding? This is exactly what happened to Leslie Cabarga. And what do these tulips, onions, redwoods and heads of lettuce impart? Turns out they’re mainly moaning about the difficulties associated with being a plant or vegetable. Which is disappointing.

Pounded In the Butt By My Book “Pounded In the Butt By My Own Butt” by Chuck Tingle (2015)

If you’re already familiar with the books (or more likely the titles of the books) of Chuck Tingle, sorry for bothering you. If not, welcome to the merry world of Chuck Tingle! Tingle started by self-publishing mainly dinosaur-based erotic fiction with titles like My Billionaire Triceratops Craves Gay Ass. Then things started to get really weird. He moved onto the sexual adventures of anthropomorphized inanimate objects (donuts, library cards), then a sort of fevered satire (Domald Tromp’s Ass is Haunted by the Handsome Ghost of His Incriminating Tax Returns) and then a deranged self-referral loop (Pounded In The Butt By My Constantly Changing Thoughts On The Ongoing Mystery Of Chuck Tingle’s Real Identity). Read any Tingles openly on the beach and you may be asked to leave the beach.