My family is fighting over a book.

During a call with my mother in America, I mentioned I was reading about a bookseller who lives in New Zealand’s deep south. That was all it took. She immediately ordered Ruth Shaw’s first book, The Bookseller at the End of the World. Like Shaw, she’s an avid book lover of a similar age, so I assumed that this shared passion was the book’s draw. But when it arrived, my brother picked it up, read the first few pages, and couldn’t put it down. Now they’re squabbling over who gets to finish it first.

Shaw’s ability to connect with readers across generations and continents is what I’m calling The Ruth Shaw Effect. Her debut book was so popular that it was translated into 12 languages and has even inspired international travellers to plan their New Zealand itineraries around her tiny bookshops in Manapōuri. As Shaw writes, ‘What started as a few visitors soon turned into a torrent.’

In this latest instalment, Three Wee Bookshops at the End of the World, Shaw once again throws herself into situations most would say no to. Yes, she’ll help eradicate rats on Breaksea Island. Yes, she’ll spray-paint her town in the middle of the night as an act of political protest to save trees. Yes, she’ll nurse a black-backed gull, a harrier hawk, an injured bee (which she names Buffy), and even a seal pup found in a public toilet. And yes — against everyone’s better judgement, including her own — she’ll cross the Tasman Sea in a catamaran and barely live to tell the tale.

Like her first book, Three Wee Bookshops weaves together personal stories from Shaw’s life with intimate moments shared with customers in her bookshops — something fans will love. If you’re new to her work, you can comfortably start here, but reading her first book will give you a deeper appreciation of her journey.

One of the most gripping threads in Three Wee Bookshops is her unexpected friendship with a mysterious Russian oligarch named Dimitri. After he charters Shaw and her partner Lance’s boat in Doubtful Sound, he casually invites them to Moscow — an offer that sparks years of return visits to Russia. At first, these trips are full of wonder and extravagance: visiting 190-carat diamonds from the reign of Catherine the Great, spotting bears in Kamchatka’s remote wilderness, and dining on caviar, swordfish, ‘and of course vodka.’

But as Russia’s political landscape shifts, so does the danger, and Shaw’s connection to Dimitri puts her in the crosshairs. During a layover on her way to Moscow, Shaw is detained overnight in Dubai, locked up alongside suspected terrorists and stranded refugees. It’s the beginning of a string of passport and customs troubles that will haunt her for years.

At times, I wished Shaw lingered a little longer in her most vulnerable moments, rather than moving swiftly from one to the next. That’s not to say she shies away from difficult topics — she writes candidly about helping her grandson recover from a P addiction and her own time in a mental health facility after a breakdown. But perhaps her instinct to keep moving forward is part of what makes her such an intrepid force. When reflecting on the warning signs of her impending mental collapse, she admits, ‘My only release was to bury myself in work and push aside what I feared was happening.’

Whether she’s braving rough seas or handpicking the perfect book for curious travellers in her remote corner of New Zealand, Shaw’s storytelling is full of adventure, warmth, and a keen eye for the extraordinary. If my own family’s bookish tug-of-war is anything to go by, The Ruth Shaw Effect is very real — drawing in readers from every corner of the world to the bookshops at the end of it.

Reviewed by Becs Tetley