2024: My year in reading

It’s time for one of my favourite annual traditions! A roundup of the reading I’ve done this year. 

There are still a few days to go, and I’m about halfway through Salt Houses by Hala Alyan. I’m expecting to finish it by New Year, so that will bring my 2024 book total to 103 books. That’s slightly down on the previous few years, but there were some big chunky novels in there and fewer poetry collections, so I reckon my reading pace remains unchanged.

Of those 103 books that passed through my hands, 46 were fiction, 50 were non-fiction, five were poetry and one was a hard-to-categorise anthology of images and words. 

Quite a few of my fiction picks were young adult re-reads, because I bought a bundle of Judy Blume and Paula Danziger books at a second-hand book fair. I’m not including them in my list of favourites, but I was pleased (and relieved!) to discover that the work of both authors had aged well and stood up to being re-read even 30ish years later. 

Anyway, without further ado, here are my favourite reads of the year. I hope you find one or two that sound appealing and could be added to your own reading list for next year. 

As always, I’d love to hear your own favourites in the comments below.

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Fiction faves

A History of Dreams, Jane Rawson: set in 1930s Adelaide, this novel follows four women who use witchcraft and other subversive means to fight patriarchy and fascism. It’s the first book I’ve read by the now-Tasmania-based writer, and left me very keen to explore her other works. 

Plainsong and Eventide, both by Kent Haruf: these are two of the three books in Kent Haruf’s Plainsong Trilogy, and their gentle, beautiful storytelling meant that I lost nothing by accidentally reading the trilogy in reverse order. Haruf’s style is an absolute delight, and I have a feeling these are going to be regular comfort re-reads. 

Transcendent Kingdom, Yaa Gyasi: this is the second novel by Ghanaian American writer Yaa Gyasi, following her highly acclaimed debut Homegoing (which I read and loved last year). It’s another utterly compelling read, set mainly in Ghana and Alabama, and a memorable portrayal of the challenges – and joys – of immigrant life.

The Bookbinder of Jericho, Pip Williams: The Dictionary of Lost Words was one of my very favourite reads of the last few years, but it had somehow passed me by entirely that this second novel by Pip Williams is a companion read, with some crossover in settings and characters. (I had in fact, thought it was a novel set in the Palestinian city of Jericho, rather than the Oxford suburb of Jericho, and when I realised my mistake a few pages in it took a bit of mental readjustment before I could continue!). I’m very glad I did though: this is another really excellent work of historical fiction, and several weeks on from finishing it I’m still thinking of many of the characters. 

The Book of Fire, Christy Lefteri: another hugely compelling novel, set on a Greek island in the aftermath of a major fire. I finished this one in two sittings and – as always with Christy Lefteri’s novels – appreciated her notes in the back that explain her research and acknowledge the people and places that have informed her writing.

The Girl with the Louding Voice, Abi Daré: a very powerful story about a 14 year old Nigerian girl called Adunni, who becomes first a child bride and then a domestic servant – never letting go of her belief in the power of education to help her move on from both situations. Adunni’s voice is distinctive and rhythmic, while her spirit and courage are unforgettable.

The Home Child, Liz Berry: a beautiful novel in verse. It tells the fictionalised story of Eliza Showell – the author’s great aunt – who was orphaned as a child and transported from the Black Country to Nova Scotia. I’m embarrassed to say I’d never heard the term Home Child before. It refers to the 100,000 British children sent to Canada (and other British colonies) to work as indentured farm labourers and domestic servants. 

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Non-fiction faves

Wifedom, Anna Funder: I wasn’t quite sure whether to pop this one in fiction or non-fiction. It is based on newly discovered letters from Eileen O’Shaughnessy (George Orwell’s wife) to her best friend, but Funder also uses her impressive novel-writing skills to fill in the gaps and reimagine the Orwells’ marriage. This is an absolutely brilliant book – although I will say that it made me FURIOUS – and even the most ardent Orwell fan is likely to come away from it thinking a little less of him. 

A Flat Place, Noreen Masud: A beautiful, moving and spectacularly well written memoir that takes the reader on a journey through the UK’s ‘flatlands’. Noreen Masud absolutely pulls off that perfect blend of memoir and landscape/nature writing that so many people aim for and struggle to reach. I can’t wait to see what she writes next – especially after spotting online that she has recently visited Australia! 

I Am I Am I Am by Maggie O’Farrell: I so often say that I’m going to think about a book for a long time… but this one I really believe I’ll continue to think about FOREVER. I’ve read some of Maggie O’Farrell’s fiction and haven’t really clicked with it, but this is a non-fiction collection that chronicles nearly 20 near-death experiences in the writer’s life, ranging from the dramatic to the mundane. Truly an astonishing way to approach a memoir. 

These Bodies of Water, Sabrina Mahfouz: another fabulous combination of history and memoir, this time focusing on the influence of the British Empire in the Middle East. Wholly accessible, deeply engaging and – for me – a very educational read. It’s no small thing to attempt a book that combines very personal experiences with the history of an entire region, but I think the writer has done an exceptionally good job. 

This is Not a Border, edited by Ahdaf Soueif and Omar Robert Hamilton: what a moving collection this is – essays, reportage and poetry from participants in the Palestine Festival of Literature. There’s no way to choose a favourite piece – they’re all excellent in their own way – and I found so many that resonated with my own experience. Reading about the situation in Palestine is one thing, but experiencing it even briefly – seeing the wall up close, walking through the checkpoints, interacting with soldiers, and enjoying that beautiful Palestinian generosity and hospitality – is another thing entirely, and will change you forever.

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If you want to keep an eye on my 2025 reads, come and say hello @ruthreadsbooks on Instagram… and if you like a bookish bargain, you might want to follow my other account @ruthsellsbooks, where I sell the ones I’m not holding onto myself. 

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Photo by Mari Potter on Unsplash