2024: A year of female voices – a reflection on gender in my reading

As I reviewed my list of books read in 2024, I couldn't help but notice an interesting trend: the majority of books I read were written by female authors. Of the 41 books, 20 were by unique female authors, while only 7 were written by men. 8 of the female authors were also Australian. This wasn’t something I intentionally set out to achieve, but looking back, it feels like a reflection of my desire to support and amplify female voices. It’s also a bit of an anomaly compared to the previous years, where the gender balance of my reading was much more even or tipped in favour of male authors. This shift has made me reflect on the state of female representation in the writing industry.

Female authors face unique challenges when it comes to getting published and having their work recognised. While women make up a significant portion of the literary world, studies consistently show that books written by women are underrepresented, particularly in genres traditionally dominated by male authors. Historically, male authors have tended to be considered for and awarded major literary prizes at higher rates than their female counterparts for example. This disparity is a result of historical biases, societal expectations, and even subtle biases in the publishing process, all of which make it harder for female authors to break through. The gender imbalance in publishing has led to fewer opportunities for female authors to gain the same visibility and recognition as their male counterparts, despite their contributions being just as significant and diverse. 

In response to this imbalance, initiatives like the Stella Prize have emerged. Established in 2013, the Stella Prize is an Australian literary award that celebrates the writing of women and non-binary authors across all genres. Its creation was a direct reaction to the underrepresentation of female writers in major awards, notably the Miles Franklin Award.

So, as I look back on my reading habits this year, I feel good about supporting women in literature, but I also acknowledge the broader systemic challenges that many female authors still face in their careers.

The authors

Agatha Christie - many

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie - We Should All be Feminists

Elizabeth Coleman - A Routine Infidelity (Australian)

Sulari Gentill - The Rowland Sinclair series (Australian)

Anna Funder - Stasiland (Australian)

Holly Jackson - Good Girl's Guide to Murder

Azako Yuzuki - Butter

Barbara Kingsolver - The Bean Trees

Geraldine Brooks - March

Hannah Kent - Devotion (Australian)

Jane Harper - The Exiles, The Survivors (Australian)

Suzanne Collins - The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

Dervla Tiernan - The Murder Rules 

Brenda Jagger - Flint and Roses

Rebecca Huang - Yellowface (Australian)

Lisa Jewell - Then She Was Gone

Stephanie Bishop - The Anniversary (Australian)

Jean M Auel - Valley of Horses

Amy Taylor - Search History (Australian)

Jill Duggar - Counting the Cost

Six Degrees of Separation (Apr): From Knife to Jasper Jones by Craig Silvey

The meme is hosted by Books are My Favourite Best and is described thus: On the first Saturday of every month, a book is chosen as a starting point and linked to six other books to form a chain. Readers and bloggers are invited to join in by creating their own ‘chain’ leading from the selected book. Each person’s chain will look completely different. It doesn’t matter what the connection is or where it takes you – just take us on the journey with you.

This is only the third time I have completed Six Degrees, but for me the journey through these reading experiences has actually been a little emotional for me - definitely a testament to the power of fiction, arising from a non-fiction starting point.

This month the journey starts with Knife by Salman Rushdie, described by Penguin Books Australia as "a moving, life-affirming memoir about survival and the power of love to heal...". Knife is a memoir that explores the aftermath of the attempt on Rushdie's life in 2022. I've not read this book. In fact, I haven't read very many memoirs at all, although I know many people who read a lot of them.

I have read two other books by Salman Rushdie – with Midnight's Children being the stand-out for me. I remember at the time that I read it feeling as though it was one of the best books I had ever read, although it's been many years since I visited it, and the feeling has faded. It falls into the category of magical realism and is the story of Indian independence which is explored through the storytelling of Saleem – who, as a young boy, discovers that he has the power of telepathy and can communicate with other children born close to midnight on the date that India gains its independence. Thinking about this story now makes me think that I might like to re-read it this year.

There is something about magical realism that I love, and it takes me to The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. The Time Traveler's Wife is the love story of Henry and Clare. Henry's rare genetic condition means that he involuntarily time travels, and his time traveling takes him to the past where he befriends a young girl called Clare – who eventually becomes his wife. When I first read this book, I cried like a baby. I think I have still cried in several re-readings since. There is something about it that is just so poignant – the human experiences of the characters as they live their lives together in as normal a way as possible. It's since been made into a movie and a TV series, both of which I've enjoyed but of course can't match the book. I have reviewed it here.

Other books I have cried in. The first one that comes to mind is The Book Thief by Markus Zusak, an Australian author. This is still to this day one of my very favourite books. We came close to naming our son Rudy after one of the main characters in this story, that is narrated by Death and explores the German experience of WW2 through the eyes of the young Liesel and her family's attempt to save the life of a Jewish friend. I finished this book on a train and cried and cried. You can read my review here. 

Another book I cried uncontrollably in was We Need to Talk About Kevin by Lionel Shriver. If you've read the book, you can probably already understand the part that I mean. I remember being home alone and completely distraught and calling my husband for comfort. I could barely speak, and he thought something was very wrong until I could get out that it was the book that upset me so much. Any book that can evoke that kind of emotion is clearly worth a read. You can read my review here.

At first, I couldn't quite figure out why, but the next book that came to my mind was Salvage the Bones by Jesmyn Ward. Salvage the Bones provides the reader with a heart-wrenching snapshot of family life in a poverty-stricken area of New Orleans in the days leading up to and including Hurricane Katrina. It's told from the perspective of a young teenage girl, who is experiencing her own personal hurricane when Katrina hits. What connects these two books for me is the theme of motherhood. Although each tells very different stories, they both explore motherhood in a deeply real way—truly demonstrating the complexities of what motherhood is and means—to both the mother and the child.

When I revisited my review of Salvage the Bones, I described it as an assault on my emotions—another aspect in keeping with both my experience of The Book Thief and We Need to Talk About Kevin.

Finally, Salvage the Bones has brought me to another Australian book, this time a young adult novel—Jasper Jones by Craig Silvey. They are both coming-of-age novels in their own way, both set in marginalised communities (one in modern-day New Orleans and the other in a small rural town in 1960s Australia), and both are narrated by teens experiencing their own personal upheaval. Both deal with important themes: social injustice, race, and identity. And Ward and Silvey give voice to characters who are vulnerable and overlooked in real life—and do so in an authentic and moving way.

March 2025: What I Read

March was a big month for me. I don't really know how I managed to read so much. You can click on the links below to be taken to my thoughts on the book. 

The Vegetarian by Han Kang

Everyone on this Train is a Suspect by Benjamin Stevenson

The Benevolent Society of Ill-Mannered Ladies by Alison Goodman

Good Girl, Bad Blood by Holly Jackson

As Good as Dead by Holly Jackson

Death at Daylesford by Kerry Greenwood

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

The Vegetarian by Han Kang, translated by Deborah Smith

Kang's The Vegetarian is a Booker Prize winner, described as being about a woman, Yoeng-hye, whose choice to give up eating meat, as an act of independence, slowly destroys her family and her own sense of self. I gave up eating animal products 7 years ago and have my own experience of people's reactions to the decision and so I was keen to see a talented writer's taken on it. 

The Vegetarian was undoubtedly well written, but it was very different to what I expected. It certainly starts as an exploration of her friends and family's response to what is seen as a subservice act, but the story is really a dark twisting tale of descent into a destructive mental illness that starts destroying Yeong-hye herself and her family as the impact of her mental illness is felt by them. It explores sexual violence, marital betrayal, the dark side of family expectations and physical assault.

The story is told in three parts from three character's perspectives. This has the effect of showing us the all-encompassing and far-reaching impact of mental illness, but I confess to finding the jumps jarring and disorientating. Each part explores the inner conflicts of each character in turn, beginning with Yoeng-hye as her dark and brutal dreams turn her to vegetarianism. Then we hear from her brother-in-law experiencing his own mental health challenges as she takes advantage of Yeong-hye's vulnerability. Finally, we are shown the perspective of Yeong-hye's sister as she deals with overcoming her own familial conflict, determined to support her younger sister. 

Although I didn't love the book, I did like the way that the story explored the desire of men to control women - to have them as they perceive they should be, and their attempts to control (sometimes violently) when the women in their lives don't meet their standards. 

Everyone on this Train is a Suspect by Benjamin Stevenson

I just love this genre of book - those modern-day cozy detective fiction novels. This series is also Australian and it's always so much to read a book that references places you have been, with characters who you can identify strongly with. This story has a very Murder on the Orient Express feel about but with a fun fiction twist (literally) - it's based at the Crime Writer's 50th Anniversary Festival, which is being held on the Ghan, a train that travels north to south through the Australian dessert from Darwin to Adelaide. Someone on the train is murdered and Ernest Cunningham, newly published crime writer, sets out to solve who amoungst the guests committed the crime. 

This book is the second in the series and I enjoyed it as much as I did the first. It also has a fun take on the genre - with the author of the book - Ernest Cunningham - engaging directly with the reader to provide us with hints and clues as the investigation progresses. If detective fiction is your thing, this is a fabulously fun series I highly recommend. 

The Benevolent Society of Ill-Mannered Ladies by Alison Goodman

Ok, I have a major theme from the month of March - and that's crime/mystery/detective fiction. I think this book was my favourite of the month. It's Agatha Christie meets Jane Austen. It follows the same principles of cozy detective fiction, but this book is set in Regency England and the detective are spinster twins, Gus and Julia, living together on their own funds, subverting what is expected of them in their time. After successfully assisting a friend with a tricky situation, the sisters decide to work together to solve a series of other mysteries that bring them adventure, romance and danger.

The sister's are very different in their own way. Gus has lost her religious faith and is keen to step out of the norm and live a unique and independent advice. Julia on the other hand has lost her love in a tragic accident, and although valuing her independence, she doesn't seek to shake off the shackles of her gender in the way that Gus does. They support each other and love each other through their trials, which just happen to be some pretty daring rescues of other ladies in trouble. 

I enjoyed this so much that as soon as I finished it, I pre-ordered the next book due to be released on 30 April. 

Good Girl Bad Blood and As Good As Dead by Holly Jackson

These are the two follow ups to the very famous A Good Girls Guide to Murder, which is now a series on Stan I believe. I really enjoyed A Good Girls Guide to Murder - the protagonist, Pip, is written with a strong voice and the story having been written from the perspective of someone doing a high school assignment was a nice twist on what is essentially a young-adult version of detective fiction.

These two started to lose me though. Good Girl, Bad Blood was ok. Predictable and a little slow at times, but just a harmless read that I had no major issue with. As Good as Dead on the other hand completely lost me halfway through. I won't spoil it, but again the killer was so predictable and Pip started behaving in a way that was so ridiculous. I don't even mean in the context of real life (although it was). Even in the context of the novel it just seemed to out of character for Pip herself - and for the other characters to along with it. 

This is a series where you can definitely just stop at the first book without issue. 

Death at Daylesford by Kerry Greenwood and Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

These two were re-reads for me (several times over), and what I read at nighttime when my incurable insomnia has me in its grips. I long for the day when I don't need my insomnia reads and I can just climb into my bed, settle down under my blankets and enjoy a blissful sleep. One day.  

I have reviewed Pride and Prejudice previously and was once lucky enough to interview Kerry Greenwood, although the record of the interview has since been lost. 

The Secret Garden revisited

I recently read an article posted on The Conversation as part of their Rethinking the Classics series. It was written by Davina Quinlivan and it made me reflect anew on The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett, one of my long time loves. 

My original review of The Secret Garden can be found here, and Davina Quinlaven's article can be found here.

In my review of Frances Hodgson Burnett's The Secret Garden I tried to highlight its enduring themes of love, friendship, and the transformative power of positive thinking. Quinlaven's article, on the other hand, offers a fresh perspective by interpreting the novel as an early example of climate fiction. This was a totally new perspective for me but one that really struck me as such a thoughtful way to view the novel.

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The article suggests that The Secret Garden explores personal healing and emphasises the restorative power of nature. As Mary, Colin, and Dickon nurture the neglected garden, they engage in a form of ecological stewardship, illustrating the profound connection between personal well-being and the environment. When viewed through this lens, Quinlaven suggests that The Secret Garden is in essence a precursor to modern climate fiction.

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When I say this struck me as a thoughtful way to view the novel, I think what it did was deepen my understanding of the novel. It suggests that Burnett recognised the interdependence between nurturing the natural world and fostering personal growth. Perhaps if we develop a positive relationship with nature, we can create personal growth and ecological renewal.

[Image: Garden Museum UK]

Sydney Writers Festival 2025

I haven't been to the Sydney Writer's Festival for a long time. I think the last time I attended was before my daughter was born, so at least 10 years ago. I can't tell you how excited I am to be going again. 

More information about the festival can be found here: Sydney Writers' Festival.

It's being operated quite differently. When I used to attend annually, easily most of the events were at no cost to the attendee and I think that there were also more events (although I accept it's been a while and that could just be an issue of memory). The main difference I have observed is that now many of the events charge an entry free of around $30.00 - $40.00 per event. 

My concern is that by introducing fees for all events, the festival may unintentionally shape its audience, making it more accessible to those with financial means while discouraging participation from others. This not only limits the diversity of perspectives in the conversation but also reduces opportunities for those with reduced financial means to engage with new ideas and authors. On the other hand, I accept that with the significantly increased costs associated with just about everything these days, I can see the Writer's Festival has probably been left with little choice. 

What is great is that it is now possible to purchase lower costs live stream tickets for the weekend - meaning that for a far more affordable cost you can watch a few of the events from the comfort of your own living room. 

I'm very privileged to be able to go to 3 paid events this year, along with having purchased live stream tickets for both the Saturday and Sunday. I am going to see so many authors that I have read recently and am so excited to be seeing. Firstly Hannah Kent - whose books I've been in love with since I first read Burial Rites. I am going to see Shankari Chandran as well - although I haven't read anything by Chandran yet, I have about 3 of her books on my kobo wish list so this will give me impetus to read some. I read the Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley this year and really enjoyed it, such a fun book - and I am lucky enough to be seeing her at one of the events. Last year I also read Butter by Asako Yuzuki, and although I had mixed feelings about it, and I am so excited to be seeing her speak with one of my livestream tickets. 

The festival isn't until May 2025, so I have a lot of weeks of anticipation before it arrives. Are you going? If you happen to see this, I would love to know what you are looking forward to seeing. 

Babel: Or the Necessity Of Violence by Rebecca F Kuang

I loved Babel: Or the Necessity Of Violence but it dealt with so many important issues in such a meaningful way that I have felt a little unsure about whether I can really capture it in a review.

I came to it because I have been trying to read the Longlisted and Shortlisted books for the Booker Prize 2025, and Babel: Or the Necessity Of Violence was high on my priority list after reading Yellowface by Rebecca F Kuang last year and appreciating the way that she explored cultural appropriation. 

In Babel historical fiction meets fantasy fiction - set in an alternate 19th-century England, where the power of empire is fuelled by the magic of translation. This is literal - with silver bars that harness the lost meaning between words in different languages to produce extraordinary effects. Placed in a carriage they can increase the speed and comfort of the drive. Placed on a ship they can improve the quality of the journey and increase speed. The magic of the silver bars is created through the work of Babel’s translators, who inscribe them with paired words from different languages, capturing the untranslatable gaps in meaning to unleash powerful effects that only those fluent in both languages can activate.

The story centres on Robin Swift, a Chinese orphan brought to England, who is trained at Oxford’s Royal Institute of Translation (Babel), where linguistic magic enhances colonial domination. Robin and his group of close friends, are treated as second class citizens even when their skills are required by the empire, slowly become aware to the moral contradictions of the system that saved then in many cases from poverty, but at the same time has enslaved them through dependence. They are each faced with a decision about whether they continue to serve the British Empire or fight it.  

Although one of the books main themes was undoubtedly the power of language and how it can be used as a tool of colonialism and imperial control, for me what forcefully struck me was the question contained in the title - the necessity of violence. Can meaningful change ever come without violence?  

Is violence necessary to create social change?

For me, this is the question that stuck with me the most throughout the book, and something that the characters are increasingly forced to reckon with. Robin and his friends all try different ways to push back against the system the Empire has created. They try working within it and consider how they can contribute to its reform before eventually turning to more drastic action. The book made me reflect on what I suppose is an age old question in the modern world - we can argue our position against injustice, call for change, try the path of logic and advocacy, but if the people who have the power to create won't listen because their power is derived from the system itself - then is there any choice but violence? 

Kuang didn't glorify violence in Babel, but she also didn’t shy away from the reality that history has rarely changed without it. It made me reflect on the women's suffrage movement, where women turned to arson, bombings, and hunger strikes after years of peaceful protest were ignored, and they were succeeded. During the industrial revolution violent strikes, riots, and worker uprisings were crucial in achieving improved working conditions through legal reform. I think history shows that in most cases change does require violence and relies on people willing to sacrifice themselves to bring it about. 

Friendships and family

Another theme throughout the novel that I continue to reflect on is that of friendship and how the characters rely on it in the face of oppression to give them hope and purpose. Robin and each of his friends are from different parts of the world and as they enter the world of Oxford they increasingly feel the contradictions in their day to day to day lives. At Oxford, they are treated as second-class citizens. The women are unable to live on campus or attend events without pretending to be men, and the men are attacked and ridiculed for the colour of their skin. 

This is where the contradiction lies. On the one hand, they are clear that their social standing is not that of other students at Oxford while on the other hand the Empire requires their skills to maintain and extend its power. On the other hand, they are crucial to the empire’s power. This forces them to grapple with their place in a society that values their skills but not their humanity. 

We are also able to see these same contradictions played out in Robin's personal life. As a child he was removed from his family and taken to England by a man who valued his skill and ability with languages. It was clear that he viewed Robin's 'success' as a personal triumph because he believes that he has raised Robin to overcome the inferior traits he associates with Chinese people. He sees Robin as an exception arising from the positive influence of the British Empire and is blind to any systemic oppression. He sees a successful experiment that has brought glory to the Empire, not his ward's humanity. 

But it was so inspiring the way that sharing many of these experiences brought the friends together and gave them the strength to cope with the challenges that were thrown their way. However, while Robin and two of his friends were immigrants to England, their third friend, a white British student, doesn’t fully understand the weight of their struggle, and this difference strains their friendship. 

This made me reflect on my own privileged position in Australian society. As someone with privilege, I recognise that disadvantaged cohorts and individuals often have lived experiences and insights about issues that I cannot fully grasp. That means that I need to try to listen and accept their truth without filtering them through the lens of my own privilege. This is something that we all need to do better with and is certainly the case for the friendships in Babel. 

A book that makes you reflect in these ways is well worth the read, and this comes highly recommended from me. 

February 2025: What I Read (featuring Babel: Or the Necessity of Violence)

 I was pretty lucky with my choice of books in February 2025. 

I am starting with the last book I read in February, because it was by far the best: 

Wow. Babel: Or the Necessity of Violence by Rebecca R Kuang. I don't really even know where the begin with this one. Historical fiction meets fantasy fiction - set in an alternate 19th-century England, where the power of empire is fuelled by the magic of translation. This is literal - with silver bars that harness the lost meaning between words in different languages to produce extraordinary effects. Placed in a carriage they can increase the speed and comfort of the drive. Placed on a ship they can improve the quality of the journey and increase speed. The magic of the silver bars is created through the work of Babel’s translators, who inscribe them with paired words from different languages, capturing the untranslatable gaps in meaning to unleash powerful effects that only those fluent in both languages can activate.

The story centres on Robin Swift, a Chinese orphan brought to England, is trained at Oxford’s Royal Institute of Translation (Babel), where linguistic magic enhances colonial domination. Robin and his group of close friends, all immigrants to England and treated as second class citizens even when their skills are required by the empire, slowly become aware to the moral contradictions of the system that saved then in many cases from poverty, but at the same time has enslaved them through dependence on the system. They are each faced with a decision about whether they continue to serve the British Empire or fight it.  

Although one of the books main themes was undoubtedly the power of language and how it can be used as a tool of colonialism and imperial control, for me what forcefully struck me was the question contained in the title - the necessity of violence. Can meaningful change ever come without violence?  

I will try to write a fuller review of this book - but I really enjoyed it, if enjoy is the right word for such a deep and thought-provoking book. 

I also read Stoneyard Devotional by Charlotte Wood. This was shortlisted for the Booker Prize 2025, the winner of which was Orbital by Samantha Harvey. Having read Orbital last month, and having somewhat of a mixed reaction to it, I was keen to read another contender for the prize. This one wasn't quite as I expected. Much like Orbital, Stoneyard Devotional was another moment in time novel that explored a period in the life of the unnamed narrator who has left her husband and life to become a nun in a regional religious community. Although an atheist, she is drawn to the opportunity to devote her life to service and introspection. The nuns of the community find value in this life of quiet seclusion, while three significant events that occur in the community ultimately give rise to question about whether one can contribute to society without taking positive steps for change. I enjoyed the story a lot but having read the description of the books I almost expected to be reading a mystery of some kind. I think I would like to try another of Wood's novels. 

The Housekeeper and the Professor by Yokohama Ogawa. While the maths involved in this story completely lost me, I don't doubt that there were probably a few meaningly metaphors in there that went over my head. Fortunately, this heartwarming story of three individuals brought together by chance but who have a meaningful and long-lasting impact on one another. It felt very intimate, and I applaud the ways that Ogawa was able to convey the complexities of the characters and their relationships in such a small book. I highly recommend. 

I also read The Ruin by Dervla Tiernan. I am a bit of a sucker for piece of detective fiction / mystery and this one came with good reviews. I did enjoy it - it was a quick easy read despite its page count but it's nothing to write home about it. I felt like it built for such a long time that when the solution to the mystery was revealed and the end game played out, it felt like an anticlimax for me.