Gridlock Nation by Kwasi Kwarteng & Jonathan Dupont (Biteback, £9.99)
Are you tired of traffic jams and poor train services? The answer is more privatisation and deregulation of transport, at least according to this book. The authors (an MP and a parliamentary researcher) appeal to "common sense", invite us to abandon "myths" that they fail to demonstrate are not true (for example, that more road capacity leads to more car use), and express throughout an unyielding hatred of "planners" and "bureaucrats" ("Stalinist" or at least "quasi-Marxist"), along with a touching faith in the magic panacea of "markets", while pretending strenuously that this is not a "political" position.
The ideal reader of this bloated pamphlet would have the attention span of a goldfish, since the authors regularly contradict themselves within the space of a few pages. (British Rail was "one of the most efficient railways in the world" in the 1980s, yet "government monopolies" in transport are always "inefficient".) We are invited to abandon our "over-obsession with safety", while swallowing the notion that a simple carbon tax will stop global warming. The logic of the book as a whole is that of the paranoiac conspiracy theorist: anything that looks like counter-evidence is just absorbed into the idée fixe.
One for Sorrow... by Chloe Rhodes (Michael O'Mara, £9.99)
This is one of those books on the origins of proverbs and sayings, distinguished by particularly good design (old wood engravings and sumptuous typesetting), and the author's uncommon thoughtfulness and scholarly endeavour. It is striking how many proverbs there are about forecasting the weather, or animals, or using the latter for the former purpose (Rhodes tells you when they are scientifically reliable, which is surprisingly often). You notice, too, the interesting category of proverbs that reverse their meaning over time: "A rolling stone gathers no moss" once meant that you should stay put; now it is used to justify incessant gallivanting.
Any reader is bound to find unfamiliar sayings, too. I was not aware of "All cats are grey in the dark", of which Rhodes has unearthed the following employment by none other than Benjamin Franklin: "And as in the dark all Cats are grey, the Pleasure of corporal Enjoyment with an old Woman is at least equal, and frequently superior."
How to Be a Writer by Sally O'Reilly (Piatkus, £11.99)
The usual one-word pieces of advice on this topic – "Why?", "Don't", or "Write" – are not sufficient to fill a book, so this sensible manual covers topics such as "time management" (I wish), choosing a degree course (if you think you need one), dealing with publishers and contracts, "networking", having a day job, writing online, and so on. O'Reilly provides illuminating capsule interviews with authors, publishers and agents, and has a nice line in preemptively deflating the starry-eyed reader's expectations: "One of the unspoken truths about getting published is that nothing happens at all [...] The indifference of humanity will be inexplicable, but crushing."
Being a writer, it says here, is not really a "career"; it almost certainly won't make you rich; and it doesn't give you licence to act like a primadonna ("Authors who are not already famous must behave themselves"). There will be downs as well as ups (O'Reilly is frank about the complications involved in her own two-novel deal), and you probably won't be able to afford monthly gym fees or "your profligate approach to caffeine". At this, my fingers seized up into haunted claws above the keyboard, until a double espresso sorted things out.