I was browsing a publisher’s catalogue the other day when I stumbled on a truly curious title: Adventurous Vents: A journey through the ventilation shafts of Britain. Proof, if ever we needed it, that there really is a book for everything. According to the publisher, ‘At the heart of the modern world lie ventilation shafts. We may not notice them, but wherever there are tunnels, sewers, mines, car parks, and energy stations under our feet, vents are hard at work keeping them cool and fume-free.’ The book promises to celebrate vents both as individual curiosities and as a lens through which to view Britain’s industrial history.

Vents aren’t something most of us ever think about, but our landscape is dotted with them, quietly doing their job. At least this book documents them for posterity – though I do wonder how many readers will actually rush to buy it. I have to say that the vents peppering my cityscape are not something I want to remember.

Another oddball that surfaced from my memory is Manifold Destiny: The one! The only! Guide to cooking on your car engine! Believe it or not, this is the updated edition, which means there must be more than a few adventurous engine chefs out there. With diagrams, recipes, and step-by-step instructions, the book cheerfully invites you to ‘slap a ham steak under the hood of your car, hit the gas, and drive until you reach delicious.’ I would dearly love to know if anyone has tried this.

Then there’s Old Tractors and the Men Who Love Them: How to keep your tractors happy and your family running. As an old bookseller, I know tractor books, like train books, inspire devoted followings. The blurb still makes me giggle: ‘Filled with light-hearted tips for saving your marriage from ruin while cleaning your tractor parts in the dishwasher, and other clever restoration techniques.’

Of course, I can’t skip The Stray Shopping Carts of Eastern North America: A guide to field identification. Artist Julian Montague apparently created an entire taxonomy of abandoned carts, spanning 33 categories from ‘plaza drift’ to ‘bus stop discard’. His work, we’re told, helps us see both the man-made and natural world anew. It seems stray shopping trolleys are an international problem.

Equally niche is How to Sharpen Pencils: A practical and theoretical treatise on the artisanal craft of pencil sharpening. Evidently, there are more pencil purists out there than one might suspect. My mum might like this. She always preferred a pencil over a pen and kept a pencil case on her desk with a sharpener.

And then there’s How to Land a Top-Paying Pierogi Maker’s Job – a title that practically demands you look it up. I’ll save you the trouble, because I had to! Turns out, a pierogi is a small, filled dumpling that’s first boiled and then often pan-fried to achieve a delightfully crispy exterior. So I presume this book is for aspiring dumpling cooks. How about Goblinproofing One’s Chicken Coop, which asks, ‘Is your hen cottage plagued by foul goblins?’ Tongue in cheek I think!

I chuckled, though rather nervously, at The Pop-Up Book of Phobias. ‘Fear of heights, fear of spiders, fear of flying, fear of death – everyone is afraid of something,’ says the blurb, before promising paper pop-ups that plunge you from skyscrapers, drop you into dental chairs, or tilt your plane dangerously sideways. Sounds terrifyingly fun.

For the many dog lovers, there’s Knitting with Dog Hair: Better a sweater from a dog you know and love than from a sheep you’ll never meet. It offers guidance on spinning, knitting, and storing yarn made from your pooch’s coat. Perhaps a project for a rainy weekend?

And of course, there are the classics: Oliver Sacks’s The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat or the children’s bestseller The Day My Bum Went Psycho.

Quirky titles like these remind us just how delightfully eccentric the world of publishing can be. There really is a book for everything, even British vents. •

Rowena