Cirrus@Austlit

'When do you stop starting over? The sparkling new novel from the author of No Hard Feelings.

'Getting over someone is not that difficult. All you have to do is focus on every negative thing about them for the rest of your life until you forget to stop actively hoping for their slow and painful death, then get a haircut ...

'Serial monogamist Marnie is running late to her own identity crisis. After a decade of twisting herself into different versions of the ideal girlfriend, she's swearing off relationships for good. Forever. Done. No more, no thank you.

'Pretty inconvenient time to meet Isaac: certified dreamboat and the only man who has ever truly got her. It's cool, though, they're just friends, he's got someone else, and she has more important things to worry about. Like who she is, what she wants, and what the hell she ever saw in the love(s) of her life in the first place.

'Flanked by overwhelmed new mum Nicola, terminally single Claud, and eternal pessimist Kit, Marnie reckons with the question: who are we when we're on our own?' (Publication summary)

'Hungover, underpaid and overwhelmed, this isn't where Penny expected to be as she reached her late twenties. A sharp, smart and witty look at adulting - Fleabag meets Sorrow and Bliss.

'I exist on validation from emotionally unavailable men, biscuits, and cheap wine, and it's easier to get off with Max than a Tiny Teddy.

'Penny can't help but compare herself to her friends. Annie is about to be a senior associate at her law firm, Bec has just got engaged, Leo is dating everyone this side of the Yarra, and Penny is just ... waiting. Waiting for Max, her on-again, off-again boyfriend, to allow her to spend the night, waiting for the promotion she was promised, waiting for her Valium to kick in. Waiting for her real life to start.

'Out of excuses and sick of falling behind, Penny challenges herself to turn things around. She's going to make it work with Max, impress her tyrannical boss, quit seeing her useless therapist, remember to water her plants, and stop having panic attacks in the work toilets.

'But soon she's back to doomscrolling on Instagram, necking bottles of Aldi's finest sauvignon blanc, and criticising herself with renewed vigour and loathing. When her goals seem further away than ever, she has to wonder: when bad habits feel so good, how do you trust what's good for you?' (Publication summary)