There’s no doubt that Hugh Howey can really write. Anyone who breaks through from the clamour of the self-publication sector, as Howey famously did with the novellas that eventually made up his dystopic Woo l, arguably has to be a better storyteller than those boasting the might of a publisher behind them.

Certainly, his new standalone volume Sand , which true to form has already been published digitally in five instalments, is a fantastic yarn. As the title suggests, it’s set in arid environs, on a world where skyscrapers have been lost beneath vast dunes.

In this gritty wilderness, sand-divers retrieve artifacts from deep below the desert floor. It’s a precarious and dangerous way to make a living, but divers such as Palmer, the nominal male head of the fractured family whose fortunes Sand follows, dream of making a big score by finding a lost city, Danvar.

So as not to give away spoilers, let’s just say that the rest of the plot is a case of “be careful what you wish for” – and viewed purely as a plot-driven adventure-thriller, Sand works brilliantly. The diving scenes, which are horribly claustrophobic, also impress.

Nevertheless, you’re left with the nagging sensation that Howey hasn’t done enough to explain the backstory here – Danvar, Denver, yes, no? – while Palmer’s family, with the exception of deep-diving big sister Vic, the book’s calm centre, are rather sketchily drawn.

Jonathan Wright twitter.com/Jonathanw101

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An alternative Hundred Years War set in a world where God takes a direct interest in his creation, Son Of The Morning is a smart, gripping historical fantasy. Here angels dwell in cathedrals and fight for their kings. But Mark Alder’s is not a kindly God, but an unforgiving, Old Testament smiter who relishes sacrifice and casts people into Hell for the least of sins.

Alder (actually Mark Barrowcliffe, AKA MD Lachlan, author of the historical fantasy series Wolfsangel) has taken the Luciferian heresy as the starting point: God usurped Lucifer, the true creator, and imprisoned him and his followers in Hell. Lucifer came to Earth as Jesus, and God took all the credit. God then did a savage PR job on the fallen angel, and the rest, as they say, is history. Lucifer and his demons have taken control of part of Hell, throwing back Satan’s devils. This war spills onto Earth with the advent of the “antichrist”.

Despite first appearances, the book is not a Christian-bashing polemic, but a sharp attack on inequality as applicable to the wild inequities of today’s super-capitalism as it is to Feudalism’s self-justification through Christianity. If that sounds a bit heavy, trust us, it isn’t. There’s a good deal of humour, well-observed characters, glorious occult and historical detail, plenty of intrigue, and some great battles. Alder’s depiction of the crucial one at Crécy, with both sides supported by angels and devils, is particularly enjoyable.

Guy Haley twitter.com/GuyHaley

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Usually, the scariest thing about a circus is the clowns. Not in Adam Christopher’s world. There, the scariest thing about the circus is the vintage carousel, where kids ride on bizarre and hideous monsters – closely followed by the pagan dance troupe, and then maybe the mysterious masked acrobat who won’t reveal his identity to anyone, not even the ringmaster.

Beyond the circus, though, even scarier things are happening. Following a meteorite shower in the early 1800s, an extra-terrestrial evil has landed in America, and it’s determined to team up with a pre-existing nasty lurking below the earth’s crust. If the tentacle-faced carousel mounts didn’t tip you off to the novel’s Lovecraftian leanings, the inclusion of a giant slumbering horror rising from the depths ought to do it, but Christopher also throws in Korean mythology, Chinese magic, Celtic deities, and Hawaiian devils. Oh, and there’s a serial killer stalking the streets, using steel wire to string up his victims, but given everything else that’s going on, it’s easy to forget about him.

The sheer volume of ideas is dizzying, and though that makes for an enjoyably fast-paced read, it also makes it hard to engage with the characters. There are too many twists, too many kinds of magic, and that comes at the expense of any real heart. Still, unlike that carousel, it’s a fun ride.

Sarah Dobbs twitter.com/SarahDobbs

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Peter F Hamilton is the father of two children, Sophie and Felix, aged nine and seven at the time of writing. Statistically speaking, this means Peter F Hamilton is likely to be permanently on the edge of sleep deprivation, that he spends unfeasible amounts of time worrying about his anklebiters’ education, and that he’s constantly amazed by the sheer amount of time he spends shuttling his children to parties and activities.

But despite their wholesale and unreasonable disruption of his life, Peter F Hamilton loves his kids to bits – of course he does! Which is why his new novel finds him dropping the “F” and, rather than the space opera that’s made his name, crafting a fantasy-adventure tale aimed at children, a book that his kids can actually read.

This isn’t such a big leap as it might at first appear. After all, much of his Void sequence is set in what’s essentially a fantasy realm, while there’s something distinctly faerie-like about the Silfen, who appear in the Commonwealth books.

For The Queen of Dreams , Hamilton goes further, with a novel that’s rooted firmly in an English pastoral tradition of children’s literature. We find young sisters Taggie and Jemima heading off for a holiday on their father’s farm. Orchard Cottage, where the children will stay, is a place that’s yet to make it to the 21st century. “Only four rooms had electricity, and they were all on the ground floor,” writes Hamilton, “the iron kitchen range burned coal, and there certainly wasn’t any TV or broadband.”

Sounds idyllic. Except this won’t be a holiday like any other, as becomes clear from the moment a bespectacled white squirrel shows up. Shortly after this curious happening, things get curiouser still as the girls’ hitherto dull old pops is kidnapped and taken off into the First Realm, the land of Faerie. Heading down a metaphorical rabbit hole (actually a well), Taggie and Jemima go on a rescue mission to free their father from captivity at the hands of the dastardly King of Night.

What follows is never less than great fun, as the girls learn they are both princesses and, what’s more, both possessed of magical powers too. For the expansive Taggie, this means a similarly expansive ability to conjure up extravagant spells; while Jemima’s gift of divining the future is quieter but no less powerful in its way.

If these facets of the book draw heavily on the children’s literature of, say, Lewis Carroll or JM Barrie, at other times Hamilton takes delight in subverting his (older) readers’ expectations. Without giving too much away, there’s something distinctly vampiric about the light-fearing bad guys here, for example, while the appearance of stoner surfer-dude Elves is certainly a novelty.

Mostly, this works fine, as the sheer vim of Hamilton’s writing carries the story forward. However, the appearance of one Elizabeth Windsor at a crucial moment is arguably a playful contrivance too far. There’s also an episodic quality to the book that occasionally grates, as you’re whisked from one setpiece to the next.

Then again, there’s a lot to get through here. The Realms series will extend to a trilogy at least, and there’s a sense of Hamilton setting out his stall, getting Taggie and Jemima plus other key characters into place for future adventures, and even perhaps finding his meter for children’s fiction as he writes.

More importantly, at least from the perspective of an adult reader, this is a novel that, despite those worries over that episodic structure, makes you want to read just one more chapter before putting it down – and that in itself is a magical quality.

Jonathan Wright twitter.com/Jonathanw101

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If you’ve read James Goss and Steve Tribe’s excellent A History Of The Universe in 100 Objects , or 2012’s aptly-named Doctor Who: The Brilliant Book , you’ll have a fair idea what to expect from The Doctor: His Lives And Times .

It takes a two-pronged approach, recounting each Doctor’s on-screen adventures through mocked-up documents and ephemera – press cuttings, posters, adverts – then addressing the behind-the-scenes story via an oral history, painstakingly stitched together from hundreds of (mostly old) interview quotes with cast and crew.

Diary entries, memoirs or letters by the likes of companions Susan, Sarah Jane and Tegan give an overview of the adventures, with the authors nailing the voice of the characters very well and dropping in some delightfully geeky in-jokes. Some of the “documents” are great, like a Tom Baker-themed spin on Da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man drawing; others feel a little tenuous (how would an invitation to the Doctor and Cameca’s wedding ever exist?). The interview quotes are well-chosen and assembled, although there is a little evidence of sanitising – not so much as a word on ‘80s script editor Eric Saward’s acrimonious resignation, for example.

But the real treats are the 33 boxouts dotted throughout the book, in which familiar names discuss aspects of the series. So, for example, we have Tim Berners-Lee (inventor of the worldwide web) discussing evil computer WOTAN; Sontaran actor Dan Starkey reviewing “The Two Doctors”; and new series scribe Tom MacRae confessing to crying at the death of a puppet rat watching 1988’s “The Happiness Patrol”. The only disappointment is that these contributions are all so short.

The most fascinating ones are those which see people from the old series commenting on the new. Seeing ‘60s script editor Donald Tosh fulsomely gushing about “The End Of The World” is strangely moving, and underlines what a uniquely rich heritage this show possesses.

Ian Berriman twitter.com/ianberriman

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Unlike the movie it documents, the last of the lavish original Star Wars trilogy “Making Of”s is every bit as good as its predecessors – even at 40 quid it’s an essential purchase for any disciple of that galaxy far, far away.

The level of access is remarkable as, given the keys to the extensive Lucasfilm archives, author JW Rinzler assembles the definitive story of Return Of The Jedi . It’s a rich, lovingly assembled book with enough treats to keep you occupied through a stay in the Sarlacc’s belly. Just flicking through it makes you feel warm inside.

Indeed, it’s so packed with rare behind-the-scenes photos and gorgeous concept art that it would be worth buying for the visuals alone – little things like Han Solo in glasses or designs for the ultimately unvisited world of Had Abbadon.

But it’s in the words that the real treasure lies. While Rinzler’s text occasionally errs on the dry side, the depth is astonishing – even the most obsessive Star Wars fan will learn something here. As well as conducting new interviews with key players, he’s unearthed a previously unseen conversation with the film’s late director Richard Marquand. And through various script drafts and incredibly revealing transcripts of story meetings, you get to see the Jedi you know forming before your eyes. Whatever happened to the Emperor’s lava-filled volcano lair?

Richard Edwards twitter.com/RichDEdwards

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Ever since poor Duane Jones accidentally caught a bullet at the end of Night Of The Living Dead , the zombie story has felt like the natural home for mixing up social commentary with action. So it goes with David Towsey’s debut novel (the first in a trilogy), an undead western about fear and religious persecution.

Towsey’s future looks a lot like the past. It’s 2917, and Earth has retreated into a pre-industrial way of life. Technology and culture is treated with suspicion and the Bible with unthinking reverence. There’s one big difference though – the existence of the zombies.

Thomas is one of these “Walkin’”. They don’t want to eat your flesh, but exist as a despised underclass. Burnt and horribly disfigured, Thomas is afraid of seeing his family again, but naturally, circumstances reunite him with his daughter…

Despite sitting in two genres, Your Brother’s Blood manages to largely avoid relying on recycled tropes. There’s little in the way of gun-totting, zombie-blasting carnage here. Instead, this is a sparse, elegantly written novel about family ties. The influence of Cormac McCarthy and especially The Road is keenly felt, and Thomas and Mary’s relationship is moving without being overly sentimental.

Some may find it a little on the slow side, but the deft world-building and focus on small-scale human tragedy make for an absorbing alternative to World War Z -style epics.

Will Salmon twitter.com/evilrobotbill

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This book actually makes things noticeably easier by talking about the process of designing the movie’s worlds and, crucially, one man’s role within that. Syd Mead is one of the greatest designers in modern movie history, a man whose work has been featured in everything from Star Trek: The Motion Picture to Blade Runner and mecha design. Mead’s insight and style has been stamped all over both the fictional future and the actual present. His work is astonishing, and some of the book’s most interesting sections concern his recruitment onto Elysium. Blomkamp’s astonishment that he could now legitimately recruit one of his idols is very sweet and it’s a credit to Mead, now in his ’70s that he not only keeps up with the industry but knew and was impressed by Blomkamp’s work.

His work here, largely on the Stanford Torus-design of Elysium itself is amazing, filled with the clean lines and elegance he’s justifiably known for. There’s some interesting insights into the station’s internal design, too.

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The book really highlights the way the two worlds of the movie collide. Elysium is vast, squeaky clean, beautiful and just a little tacky (after all, just because you’re a billionaire who can afford to live off Earth that doesn’t mean you have taste). In contrast, Earth is a barren favela; a wasteland crammed full of people, tattoos, gang tags and repurposed decades-old cars and weapons. The class war element of the movie is encoded into it on a near cellular level and that’s there on every single page. The book walks you through the design of Max, the robots that run his world, his work place, his exo frame, the horrifying surgery he undergoes and the weapons and vehicles he uses to get to Elysium. Each is dirty, old, battered and the best possible option. If Elysium is heaven, then Earth is clearly hell.

Seeing the two design philosophies and locations collide in the movie is heady enough on the page. It’s like cyberpunk and Kubrickian futurism got blind drunk and did frantic, sweaty things to each other on the set of the latest Mad Max movie. If a tenth of the feverish energy involved in designing the movie is on screen, then we should be in for a very fun experience. As it stands, the book is a beautifully designed look at the fractious world behind the movie and how it was built. Blomkamp, Mead and the other designers have created the most beautiful ugly world I’ve seen in a long time. Hopefully the movie set there will be as much fun as the world clearly was to design.

Alasdair Stuart

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No, this isn’t a novel based on the card game that’s a bit like Scrabble. In fact, it’s a bit of a dull title. The premise doesn’t sound amazing either. It’s about an organisation of people with the skill to use words – ordinary, everyday words and secret, powerful words… yes, magic words, essentially – to influence and control people.

But this scenario is brilliantly realised. Max Barry builds up the idea of “magic words” so rigorously, and draws in so many concepts from psychology and how we use language, that it seems like a new idea, rather than one of the oldest fantasy concepts there is. By matching it to the information age it seems strikingly relevant – we really are at risk of being manipulated due to the amount people know about us.

But all this stuff, fascinating though it is, merely adds depth to a compelling thriller. There are two threads: one in the recent past, following street hustler Emily Ruff as she’s brought into the organisation; the other in the present, as a man named Wil Parke is abruptly drawn into this dangerous world, and forced to return to the scene of a disaster he doesn’t even remember experiencing.

Emily in particular is a complex character, sympathetic but sometimes frustrating: it’s the way that her journey as a character meshes with the unfolding of the plot that makes Lexicon such a resounding success.

Eddie Robson twitter.com/EddieRobson

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Puffin’s 50th Anniversary ebook range by “big-name writers” is turning out to be a series of underwhelming vignettes by YA authors you’ve probably never have heard of.

This story starts promisingly, as the Third Doctor and Jo come up against machine gun-toting museum guards, but goes a tad trad once they head to the second century to take a second crack at pinching the titular magical MacGuffin, this time from the Vikings.

Marcus Sedgwick nails Pertwee’s patrician speech patterns (it’s all “My dear” and “Old boy”), but other continuity points are obvious or unwelcome. You won’t need to know your Norse to guess the identity of a mystery antagonist, and the fact that a TARDIS function not mentioned until the Davison era ultimately saves the day feels oddly anachronistic.

Calvin Baxter

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