Each week we bring you a sample of the books we’re reading, the films we’re watching, the television shows we’re hooked on or the music we’re loving.

Mark Rubbo is reading This House of Grief: The Story of a Murder Trial by Helen Garner

I’ve almost finished This House of Grief: The Story of a Murder Trial – what a roller coaster of a book! It has to be Helen’s best book yet and so readable; I’m pretty sure Farquarson is guilty but I’d hate to have been on that jury.

Also, I’ve been wondering why we’ve been getting all these orders for Janet Malcolm’s Journalist and the Murderer and now I see that Helen’s refers glowingly to it in the book.

Emily Gale is reading The Riders by Tim Winton

I’d never read Tim Winton until last weekend. Plenty of times I’d said to myself that I must, and I’d asked people which one I should start with but kept getting different answers. (Thanks a lot, everyone…) The universe finally intervened when I moved into a new building and discovered a well-stocked Book Exchange next to the lift, on which shelves I found a much-loved copy of The Riders.

Although the prose got under my skin from the start, and I quickly warmed to the gentle giant Scully as the Australian abroad, it wasn’t until several chapters when I turned to my family and announced that I was going into my cave until the book was done with me. Suddenly, it had ramped up a gear – from ‘down-to-earth bloke fixes up crappy cottage in rural Ireland’ to ‘breath-taking mystery featuring one of the most wonderful child characters I’ve ever read in adult fiction’. Indeed, as Scully searches for his missing wife, accompanied by the seven-year-old Billie, it was the child that I held on to most tightly.

To my mind, Scully’s behaviour became so pitiful that by Amsterdam, I was almost through with him. Don’t get me wrong, my growing dismay merely added to my enjoyment of this intense book and it made me question what personal experiences of mine I was bringing to the story. I knew, for example, that had I read The Riders in my teens or 20s I’d have been with Scully all the way and felt his desperation in my bones. Older and more cynical however, and my maternal instinct made me impatient with Scully’s self-destruction. My concern for Jennifer had turned into bland curiosity with a bit of go-to-hell thrown in; all I wanted was for Billie to be okay.

There is more to being satisfied with a story than a neat ending. This book doesn’t have one, but it’s a fantastic journey. Whether it’s the right Winton to start with or not, I don’t know, but The Riders won’t be my last.

Nina Kenwood is reading The Paying Guests by Sarah Waters

The Paying Guests is a slow book, but this is not a criticism. Sarah Waters is a master of building atmosphere and tension and this novel is very deliberately paced. In the beginning of the story (set in London in 1922), a lot of time is spent getting to know Frances and her widowed mother, understanding their life and establishing their past tragedies and everyday routines. Due to their economic circumstances, Frances and her mother are forced to rent some of the upstairs rooms of their home to a married couple, who are the ‘paying guests’ of the title.

The slowly changing dynamic between Frances and the couple is built delicately. The slightest change in feelings and behaviour feels like a big reveal, and the claustrophobic nature of the house helps to amplify this. I’m about a third of the way through the novel and feel so deeply absorbed in the narrative that I’m dying to know what’s coming (I suspect a few big events are just ahead of me).

I think it can sometimes be easy to overlook new work from an established author who has written a lot of novels (‘oh, another Sarah Waters’ is what I thought when I first saw the book) but Waters is popular and beloved for a reason: she’s terrific. One of the things I love most about her work is the way she digs deeply into the lives of women at the time, capturing the drudgery of endless housework and exploring their vast inner lives, their sexuality and their desires. If you are looking for a big, literary, juicy, all-consuming novel, look no further than this one.

Bronte Coates is reading Lila by Marilynne Robinson

Marilynne Robinson is one of those author I haven’t read before but have always suspected I would love if I gave her a chance. And now, I’ve finally been prompted into action by this excellent profile of Robinson by the New York Times. I read the piece last night and then purchased a copy of Lila first thing this morning. Reviewers have used words like gentle, haunting, evocative, nuanced to describe Robinson’s work which usually means hers are the kind of book you want to settle into, rather than read on the go. Luckily, I’m visiting family up North this weekend which basically translates into four flights in three days – a perfect excuse for some settling in.

(It’s worth noting that Lila was also just selected as a finalist for the 2014 National Book Awards.)