Each week we bring you a sample of the books we’re reading, the films and TV shows we’re watching, and the music we’re listening to.

Annie Condon is reading Anything is Possible by Elizabeth Strout

I’ve been putting off reading Anything is Possible by Elizabeth Strout, so that I could really savour it during some ‘downtime’, but I’ve recently come to the realisation that the aforementioned ‘downtime’ is just not going to happen. So I began the book and entered the most gloriously wise headspace of Elizabeth Strout as she follows the interlinked lives of people living in a small impoverished American town.

This book serves as a companion piece to My Name is Lucy Barton – my favourite book of 2015. Lucy reappears in this book, and the reader experiences the impact of her traumatic upbringing as she attempts to return to her hometown of Amgash. Characters from her childhood also make appearances and we see them in fuller, rounder terms as they narrate their own journeys.

If you like books that go deep into character’s psychologies, then this book is for you. Read with or without My Name is Lucy Barton, this is an arresting portrait of a town and its people.

Ellen Cregan is reading Some Tests by Wayne Macauley

I started reading Some Tests this morning on the bus to work. Being on my own ridiculously long bus odyssey as Macauly’s protagonist, Beth, undertakes her own medical one made the experience that bit more immersive.

This novel is so surreal. Beth wakes up one morning feeling a bit off and is sent by a locum to a specialist – who sends her to another specialist, and that one to another, and so on. In the world of Some Tests, GP’s put you up for the night in spare bedrooms. Bus drivers ask to check your medical referrals as you board so they know which practice to let you out at. Everyone is extremely comforting and understanding, but nobody tells you anything about what’s actually wrong with you.

So far, this is a bizarre read, but is also a darkly humourous, satirical take on Western medical practice from the perspective of a very confused and wholly trusting patient.

Bronte Coates is reading Night Sky with Exit Wounds by Ocean Vuong

I recently read Ocean Vuong’s intensely evocative letter to his mother on the New Yorker website. Born in Saigon, Vietnam, Vuong immigrated to the US at the age of two as a child refugee, and he was the first in his immediate family to learn to read. In the letter he examines how this history informs his relationship with his mother. After finishing it, I sought out a copy of his poetry collection, Night Sky with Exit Wounds. This is a haunting book that broke my heart in a million ways. Vuong’s imagery is exquisite, beautifully blending together mythology and memory. While the poems touch on a variety of things, what impacted on me the most is Vuong’s deep dive into the insidious nature of trauma. I think this book will stay with me for a long time.

Chris Gordon is reading First Love by Gwendoline Riley

I’m currently reading First Love, a novel from this year’s tremendous shortlist for the Baileys Women’s Prize for Fiction. I’m not sure I like it, although I do know the writing is very fine. In fact, I believe this novel has been created for this exact affect – to make the reader uncomfortable and for this reason, it’s not for the faint-hearted. The story centres on Neve and her marriage to an older and controlling man, Edwyn. The readers are given access to Neve’s iner thoughts – her fears and memories; her inability to flee and indeed, her devotion to Edwyn; all of her strange and fierce commentary. First Love is an unsettling, powerful read. It is far from being a simple portrait of the sweetness that many associate with ‘first love’.

This past week also saw the start of winter, which has a special meaning for certain people (some in my own family). For these particular crews across Melbourne, the cold season means it’s salami time. Together, they are gathering around their sausage machine and discuss the ‘mix’ over grappa and coffee, crossing their fingers for the best batch ever. Once the sausages are made, they will then be hung up until spring arrives in September.

If this type of activity sounds right up your alley, you’ll find plenty of fantastic books to inspire you. Otto Wolff’s The Wurst! is a beauty, featuring recipes for a variety of sausages and salamis as well as some fun ideas for pickles. (Also, the title is a treat.) Preserving the Italian Way is the actual bible for sausage makers. And Matthew Evans’s For the Love of Meat presents easy-to-follow instructions in a beautiful Australian (well Tasmanian) setting.

Meanwhile, I’ve been flickering through cookbooks to find ideas for creating feasts with the leftover mix. Last night, for example, we had meatball spaghetti paired with a lovely robust glass of red. Delicious. I highly recommend you check out Meatballs: The Ultimate Guide to create your own Melbourne winter glory.