Soft Evidence, January

Little things, big feelings: my wannabe magazine spread.

January Deets

Okay, friends, buckle up: January has been nothing but reading, watching, and surviving. Bank account: empty. Car: broken (different car from last month). Tonsillitis: ping-ponging between Paddy and me like the cruellest pickleball match ever. Not a euphemism. We were truly, spectacularly sick. Can someone, anyone, please remind me to finish my antibiotics this time?

My favourite book this month was actually a re-read: All My Mothers by Joanna Glenn. And I’m glad I turned to it again because the rest of the month’s reading was a bit meh. At the start of the year, I shared a roundup on Instagram of all the books I read in 2025, and someone asked which I loved most. I decided to put my favourites to the test, and after a re-read, All My Mothers is still Top 3.

Eva Martinez-Green is an only child with a thousand questions about where she came from—and no one to answer them. Her mother is emotionally distant, her father is physically absent, and both dodge anything about her early years. Why are there no baby pictures? Why do they refuse to talk about her beginnings? When her parents’ relationship falls apart, Eva sets out to find the answers herself. What starts as a search for her origins becomes a journey across decades and continents, where she encounters women who challenge everything she thought a mother could be—and who leave their mark on her life forever.

I ADORED my 2025 reading year. Forever shaped by/at the mercy of Libraries NI, eBay and charity shops, gorgeous loans from friends with top-tier personal libraries, and of course, my wee mum, who usually sends a new book in the post when she thinks I need a treat. Harry Potter slowed things down over the summer, but I wouldn’t change a thing. Did you read any of these? My faves were Nesting, The Names, It’s A Love Story, Long Distance, and Snowflake (which isn’t on this roundup for some reason), and The God of the Woods (although my mum, a lifelong fervent reader of thrillers, said it didn’t do much for her, so take my review with a pinch of salt). Maybe I will go into more detail about these in another post because I could harp on for days.

The rest of January, I read Liars by Sarah Mungaso, Intermezzo by Sally Rooney (finally!), and Ordinary Saints by Niamh Ni Mhaoileoin: a fascinating plot idea where a lapsed Irish Catholic living in London, finds out that her deceased priest brother is being canonised as a Saint. I hated it and loved it in equal measure, lol.

And as for Sally Rooney: Intermezzo was my favourite of hers so far, but my friend Megan just read her first book from our Sally (God bless the Normal People era of 2020 lockdown), and I was trying to untangle my feelings about her books. Her writing is mesmerising, undeniably brilliant, but do I actually enjoy it? Not always. I keep reading because there’s usually something captivating about her characters, and I get why she’s hailed as the literary voice of a generation, but also, do I just lack the brainpower to “get” it? Probably. At the very least, I adored Ivan in Intermezzo—he was crafted with such tenderness.

I’m still finishing Cleopatra & Frankenstein by Coco Mellors: A whirlwind marriage between a young artist and an older advertising executive unravels into a raw, messy exploration of love, loneliness, and addiction. I am enjoying it, but not as much as her other novel, The Blue Sisters: three sisters reunite after a devastating loss, navigating grief, desire, and self-destruction as they try to find their way back to themselves and to each other.

Also, as a lifelong Rage Monster, this Substack essay To The Angry Ones by one of my favourite writers, Sonya Spillmann, was *chef’s kiss*.

“We all get angry. Getting angry is normal.

But I’m talking to the ones with anger in their bones.

You know who you are. You know what I’m talking about.

Because you hold it, so precariously, in the space behind your heart. Or in that hollowed-out place within your gut. Or in the back of your throat. Or in your tender hands. You’re the one who knows how to breathe fire, whose fingers burn, whose mouth needs but open to unleash the flames within.”

Now, on to film & TV:

Can I just say one more thing about Hamnet? I didn’t absolutely love the book, but I went to see the movie by myself at the cinema, and I have thought about it every single day since. In case you aren’t familiar, it is a haunting, tender story about Shakespeare and his wife, Agnes, and the life they build together in 16th‑century England. When their son Hamnet dies, the grief is raw and consuming, reshaping their love, their world, and even the stories Shakespeare tells. It’s less about history and more about how loss lives in the heart. And how art can grow from that ache. The scene at the end with the hands took my breath away.

I want you to go see it (in the cinema, because this movie needs to be EXPERIENCED) and then picture me SOBBING into a bag of popcorn. I have warned a few friends that it might not be the one for them if their current grief feels particularly close to the surface, but if you can brave it, the ending is the most healing thing I have seen onscreen in a very long time. Jessie Buckley deserves every single award. And also, does anyone remember her on BBC 1’s reality show, I’d Do Anything? I remember it so vividly. Make sure you watch this AFTER the movie to help you recover from the trauma.

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Other movies I loved this month: Goodbye June (a Kate Winslet creation: need I say more?) and Steve (Cillian Murphy as the headteacher of a last-chance reform school. Raw, manic storytelling in a cinematography style similar to Adolescence. 10/10).

Wake Up Dead Man was a WILD RIDE, but the scene where Father Jud stops in the middle of the murder theatrics to pray for receptionist, Louise, on the phone genuinely moved me. There was such a disarming, overt tenderness and warmth towards Jesus(!).

I was sceptical of Netflix thriller series Black Doves and assumed it would be a bit 2D like Runaway (sorry Jimmy Nesbitt—cringe and drawn out) BUT, Kiera Knightly was brilliant and the whole thing was full of the best twisty turns and hearty characters and dry humour. Excited for season 2.

Binge-watched both Emily in Paris and This Way Up while I was sick, and genuinely think Little Women (2019) healed me more than the antibiotics.

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Honourable Mentions

Everyone must be doing big clearouts in January because my local charity shops are full of treasure. Check out these jackets I found for Paddy. We went with the green bomber one. And two adorable dressing gowns for the younger boys!

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Look, I am already a hormonally out-of-whack girlie (thank you, PCOS), but since I stopped breastfeeding in October, things have been a whole new level of *imbalanced*. My adult acne is back for revenge, and I have had to do a total overhaul of everything I put on my face. This Purito Moisturiser is my best find. It has a really simple ingredients list, dries quickly, and leaves you with that glass-skin look under your makeup.

On that note: if anyone has an acne-friendly SPF to recommend, I’m all ears. And if any local friends are in need of skincare for less dramatic/more resilient skin than mine, I have a mountain of products looking for a new home because they just didn’t work for me :(

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The gift that keeps on giving:

In December, my mum gave me a huge cardboard box full of household cleaning, toiletries, and laundry supplies. Not as a Christmas present, but as a ‘I remember how hard January was when my kids were young’ present, and I already know I want to do it for my children when they grow up <3

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Nothing gets you out of the house on a soggy Thursday in January quite like one of your girls getting engaged. Here we are, completely drenched, stuffing our faces and clinking our glasses <3

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In case you missed it, I published this essay featuring (but not limited to) Play-Doh families, shark facts, Winnie-the-Pooh, and the mercy of motion:

It is a somewhat melancholy essay for a melancholy January. 🥴 I really did work hard to find the thread of hope, though. Blink, and you’ll miss it, but I PROMISE it’s there. <3

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Shoving chocolate into other chocolate. This is where my creative energy is at. Parent points for having edible eyes on hand, surely?

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Want to remember this day forever <3

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To finish, here are some wholesome corners of the internet that made me smile:

Confetti Community.
January Mood.
Don’t you dare shrink your softness.
Another January Mood.
Dublin Airport in December <3
Author Nesting (who I’ve seen in real life!!) winning all the awards.
Rihanna hyping up a Magherafelt boy (creative director at Dior).
And his proud mama.
My life with a 12-year-old boy.
You must always send me your whale videos.

Okay, I'd better stop there.

Lots of love,

Reb x