Grief manifests differently for everyone. Some people internalize their feelings, taking a long time to process them. Others express them straightaway. Some seek escape, some validation. All of us find relief in our own ways. Here are some books that have helped me: some have nothing to do with grieving, others hold it deep in their hearts. Whatever your circumstances, whatever your grief, I hope you find something here to enjoy.

Becky Chambers: A PSALM FOR THE WILD-BUILT. The first of Chambers’ joyous MONK AND ROBOT duology, this novella is short enough to deal with the reduced attention-span of grieving. It deals with the unlikely, emerging friendship between a wandering tea monk and a wild-built robot, both seeking the answer to the question of what humans need…

Mary Lawson: SOLACE IN WINTER: A man grieving the death of his wife finds his quiet life upturned, first by his rescue of an injured dog, and then by the arrival of a young man, homeless after fleeing the draft, and injured in a car accident. A lovely, insightful story, filled with hope and compassion.

Joan Didion: THE YEAR OF MAGICAL THINKING. A keen and honest insight into the psychology of the author’s grief following the death of her husband, as well as an insight into how we process feelings, dreams and memory.

Arundhati Roy: MOTHER MARY COMES TO ME. Moving, loving, incredibly tough, and filled with life and colour, this memoir explores Roy’s often troubled, often uncomfortable relationship with her mother, whose profound influence – both for good and for ill – has marked both her work, and her life.

Ursula le Guin: NO TIME TO SPARE. Sometimes grief causes a kind of reader’s block, in which it becomes difficult to follow a lengthy plot. These essays are wonderful to dip into when this happens; filled with wisdom and humour, reminding us that time is short, and that life is for living.

Brian Vaughan and Niko Henrichon: PRIDE OF BAGHDAD. I often turn to graphic novels at times when I need a different perspective. This story is based on a historical event; the liberation into the wild of several groups of lions from Baghdad zoo after the bombing of the city in 2003. I always cry at Brian Vaughan’s books: this one is both heart-wrenching and wise.

A.A. Milne: THE HOUSE AT POOH CORNER. Sometimes self-care comes to us as a return to a sunnier, simpler time: and these stories, with their perennial message of kindness and friendship, work very well as an antidote to grief, or an escape from depression.

10 MINUTES 38 SECONDS IN THIS STRANGE WORLD: Elif Shafak. Scientists believe that the brain remains active for a number of minutes after a person’s heart stops. Written from the perspective of a young murder victim, this book deals with her life journey and recounts her final memories as she faces the countdown towards the end of consciousness.

Georgette Heyer: COTILLION. Heyer has been my comfort author for years, in good times and in bad. Her world is always vibrant; her historical details convincing; her plots satisfying; her heroines appealing. This is one of her liveliest, most subversive Regency romances: always good for a few hours’ escape from whatever problems real life happens to deliver.

Matt Haig: THE COMFORT BOOK. With its unstructured layout of simple quotes and short paragraphs, this warm hug of a book is easy to dip into at a time when reading may be a challenge. It reminds us, very gently, and without preaching, that hope exists, change happens, and love can make a difference.

Ray Bradbury: TAKE ME HOME. This one’s not a book, but an essay, first published in the New Yorker’s sci-fi edition of 2012, about childhood, and writing, and dreaming, and grief, and letting go of beautiful things. It’s Bradbury’s last published work, published just a couple of days before his death, but I’m including it here because it’s a perfect illustration of the zest for life that he retained right until the end of his life, and reminds me of how lucky we are, in this infinite universe, to have known the people we love, even if only for a short time.

Naomi Alderman: THE STRANGERS. A dazzling piece of metafiction which works both as a personal catharsis, a powerful metaphor for grief and a terrific, quiet and original sci-fi story all in one. One of the best books I’ve read all year…