Reading a new book is always a step into the unknown. You read the blurbs, check the reviews, think you know what to expect, but still it’s a surprise.

Often those surprises are good, and sometimes they’re not so good. August was great, but in September, for some reason, I didn’t enjoy my reading. I even started to blame myself, wondering if I wasn’t concentrating enough to appreciate what the books had to offer. That might be part of it—I was quite busy and distracted. But anyway, here’s what I read in September.

Quiet Flows the Una by Faruk Sehic

I liked the idea of a story about a man trying to overcome the trauma caused by the war in Bosnia and Herzegovina. Some of the writing was quite beautiful, but there was no story at all, as far as I could tell: just a series of disconnected anecdotes, riffs, childhood remembrances and observations. I felt lost and just wanted it to end.

Borderline Fiction by Derek Owosu

This novel alternates between two parallel narratives covering the same character at ages 19 and 25, navigating love and relationships while apparently suffering from borderline personality disorder. It was interesting to see this perspective, and again some of the writing was beautiful, but I didn’t particularly enjoy being in this character’s head at either age.

Inspector Imanishi Investigates by Seicho Matsumoto

I don’t often read crime fiction, but I had this on my Kindle from a previous sale or something, and after those two experiences, I craved something simpler and more plot-driven. This book delivered. It wasn’t particularly memorable, but at least it made sense.

Indignity by Lea Ypi

The best book I read this month, although it’s a low bar. I enjoyed parts of this part-memoir, part-fiction reimagining of the author’s grandmother’s life in Salonika and then Albania in the early twentieth century. It brought in some interesting history and showed how the big sweep of history affects individual lives. Still, the balance felt off: a mass of detail on minor aspects of the story, while skipping over others that seemed more important.

In Progress: Underworld by Don DeLillo

I’m not sure why I thought it was a good idea to continue my disappointing reading month by embarking on an 827-page colossus involving yet more disconnected narratives. I think it’s been on my “to read” list for so long that I just wanted to jump in and read it, and also I didn’t quite realise how long it was.

The prologue, a wide-ranging, God-like narrative about a baseball game, was one of the best things I’ve read in a long time. The rest has left me wondering whether his editor took a sabbatical while this was being published—there are so many parts crying out to be cut.

Anyway, September is over now, and I’m hoping for better reading luck in October. How was your reading month? Better than mine, I hope!