I’ve just finished a novel and just had a play open so haven’t really looked at any fiction for a while. What I’m really interested in reading is The Private Lives of the Impressionists by Sue Roe which I’ll probably read next because I love Paris. Anything that’s about Paris, I’ll read.

There are about a half-dozen books in the series so far. My favourite is the Encyclopedia of Witches and Witchcraft which actually covers everything from witches to spiritualism to demonology. Look under ‘E’ and you’ll find entries like Anna Ecklund (demonic possession case), egg tree, elf arrow and the evil eye. The level of detail varies from a paragraph to a multi-page article.

Flip through a dozen pages and you’re bound to find something new, an idea that may spark a story. Randomly opening my copy, an entry on nightmares catches my eye. The word ‘mare’ describes a type of demon believed to cause bad dreams. A few pages further my interest is tweaked by ‘power doctors,’ backwoods healers in the American Ozarks.

Neither of these is an original idea in fiction. But in my field, dominated by vampires and other common supernatural elements, they might add a unique touch. I could use the nightmare idea to expand my concept of demons, maybe spark a plot. I could use the power doctor for a new character.

That’s what I use these books for – idea sparkers rather than research guides. I curl up in a chair, and start reading. When I find something interesting, I put in a sticky note. If I decide to use it, I do more extensive research. Many of those ideas will never be used, but there’s a comfort in seeing all those yellow tabs and knowing that, should my creative well ever run dry, there are dozens of ideas there, waiting for me

KELLEY ARMSTRONG is the author of the bestselling ‘Women of the Otherworld’ series. Her eighth book, Personal Demon, is out now. www.KelleyArmstrong.com

It’s a classic tale of trapped characters, and a fairly predictable one at that. When the women barely listen to a safety lecture from the captain about GPS and hand-held VHF radios – ‘not that you’ll ever need them’ – you just know it’s all going to go horribly wrong. And the Dunkirk spirit quickly evaporates in the tropical heat as old rivalries, and long-hidden secrets come to the surface.

Predictable or not, there’s plenty to enjoy here. Mitchard’s prose is page-turning, and almost always sharp: Tracey’s memories, for example, are ‘like a hundred paper cuts.’ And, as the situation on board deteriorates, Mitchard wrings genuine pathos from the contrast between the ladies’ plight and the novel’s idyllic Caribbean setting, as two women who know not if they will live or die, sit with their fingers entwined, ‘watching porpoises frolic in a pod.’ It’s a genuinely gripping, occasionally brutal story.

The novel opens in 2004 California where Sol, a child prodigy with a messiah complex, spends his time surfing the internet for hardcore porn and graphic images from Abu Ghraib. Not for the faint-hearted, his chapter culminates with a family reunion in Germany. Step one generation back and six-year-old Randall – Sol’s father – has emigrated with his parents to Israel. Next up is Randall’s mother, Sadie, who moves to New York to live with her estranged mother, Erra, and her new Jewish husband. Huston threads the four strands together with the unsettling story of Erra’s childhood in Nazi Germany. .

History is ever-present. Sol is obsessed with Iraq, while Randall’s account falls during the Lebanon war. The Kennedy administration forms the backdrop for Sadie’s story, and Erra discovers the painful truth about her ‘family’ when the Allies occupy Germany in 1945. To make sense of their identities, each character must reach back to the past.

Huston, a Paris-based Canadian, skillfully hooks her readers; each section throws light on its predecessor. Yet one cannot help but wonder why she has made her characters so young: with their adult vocabularies and grasp on current affairs, these children are not particularly convincing six-year-olds. But if you can overlook this, you will not be disappointed; Fault Lines is ultimately a compelling and affecting novel.