Though the prolific punk-rock poet has penned a handful of memoirs before, 78-year-old Patti Smith – on the 50th anniversary of her seminal album Horses – still has plenty to say about her absolutely epic life. We learn more about her dirt-poor Irish childhood in Chicago and indoctrination into the Jehovah’s Witnesses in Philadelphia, before her inevitable move to New York, where the wannabe artist slept in subways before upgrading to the Chelsea Hotel. As always with the multitalented Hall of Famer, Smith offers more than an incredible read – gorgeous black-and-white photography punctuates her most intimate work yet as she digs deeper into rumours surrounding her paternity. 

With hardcover collectable Star of the Show, even the most devoted of Dolly fans – who’ve already long enjoyed her wide oeuvre of biographies, novels and children’s books – will be delighted with new insights into the 79-year-old songstress’s fascinating life. More than 300 glossy pages and 500 full-colour rare and personal photos (plus newspaper clippings, postcards, ticket stubs, handwritten letters and full discography) follow the newly widowed icon through seven decades of superstardom – proving she’s still down to earth, hilarious and eternally lovable. 

What would you say to your younger self? In this book’s case, the title is 87-year-old Sir Anthony Hopkins’ message to his three-year-old self. And, of course, the grand life of the knighted two-time-Oscar-winning Welsh actor has been far better than just okay. After a tough childhood, to say the least, Hopkins is a mere tot as WW2 bombs rain down from the sky – a fateful meeting at 15 saw Hopkins in the company of Shakespearean actor Richard Burton, who inspired the aimless student to head straight to the stage. Glamorous cameos abound from the Golden Age of Hollywood (Laurence Olivier, Spencer Tracy, Bing Crosby, “Kate” Hepburn), but Hopkins doesn’t glaze over the not-so-glam parts, namely his alcoholism, from which he’s been in recovery for an impressive 50 years.  

Next month, the 30-something young buck who donned grey hair and a beard to become the villainous old man in Mary Poppins (his words!) himself turns a century old (no prosthetics required). Fun fact: After being cast as Bert the chimney sweep, Dick Van Dyke actually paid Walt Disney $4,000 to play the additional role of the banker – a perfect example of Dyke’s rules #1 and #2: Don’t Act Your Age and Make Your Own Rules. There are 98 more where that came from, loosely chronicling the Missouri-born actor’s steady climb from local radio host to travelling comedian to television actor to Broadway, where Dyke played the lead in Bye Bye Birdie. As promised, he’s an eternal optimist, ever endearing and funny as can be – amongst “Win An Oscar,” for example, is “Don’t Litter.” Both good advice! 

Imagine trying to follow up The Beatles? That was Paul McCartney’s tall test in 1970, when the seismic band breakup left McCartney but a quarter of the Fab Four. He gambled hard with new group Wings, where beloved wife Linda McCartney – a controversial pick to fans, who considered the blond photographer not much more than a very lucky groupie – and guitarist Denny Laine completed the new trio, whose “madcap adventures” are retold in this oral history. Since only McCartney lives on today, Wings uses dozens of hours of interviews and more than 100 photographs, some never seen before, to tell the band’s story from formation to dissolution (in 1981). Helping McCartney weave the tale is award-winning historian and former White House speechwriter Ted Widmer, a lifelong fan.

Rather than the usual autobiography of life behind The Band, Robbie Robertson’s posthumous Insomnia is actually a memoir of his long-term partnership and lifelong friendship with director Martin Scorsese (or as Robertson calls him, “Marty,” and later, “Maestro”). Turns out Maestro was deeply curious about music, while Robbie had always imagined himself as a filmmaker, so when both broke up with their significant others just as they began work on 1976’s The Last Waltz, naturally they … moved in together. It was the beginning of a beautiful cocaine-filled bromance that first almost killed Scorsese (via massive drug binge and near-overdose) then saved him (via an Indigenous medicine man he met while filming Raging Bull). The duo stayed buds – and movie-score and soundtrack partners – until the end. And Robertson handed in his Insomnia manuscript just before he passed away in 2023. Marty, not surprisingly, honoured him with multiple star-studded tributes and a 45-minute eulogy, saying of their connection: “It was a kind of folie à deux – a madness of two. That is, two individuals came together and did something that on their own they wouldn’t have done.”