It’s time for one of my favourite annual traditions: a roundup of the reading I’ve done this year. Some of you have followed along with me on my Instagram account, which has been lovely. If you haven’t found me on there and you’d like to, please do come and say hello.
In 2025, I read 98 books. Of those, 50 were fiction, 45 were non-fiction, and three were poetry. I also logged six DNFs – which, by my own rules, only count if I made it at least 50 pages in before admitting defeat. Anything abandoned earlier than that doesn’t make the list at all.
Compared with previous years, this has been a slightly lighter reading year overall. ALMOST LIKE THE WORLD HAS BEEN REALLY MESSY AND I’VE SPENT TOO MUCH TIME DOOMSCROLLING LOL.
My non-fiction reading skewed heavily towards politics and memoir, which perhaps says something about both the year itself and my own appetite for context, explanation, and lived experience.
Fiction provided a different kind of balance, offering immersion and escape alongside the more overtly analytical reading. That’s not to say that some of these novels weren’t toughies too – there were definitely some fictional gut punches that will stay with me a long time.
Anyway, enough of the blah, and on with the list. As ever, what follows isn’t a comprehensive list of everything I read, but a curated selection of the books that stayed with me – the ones I found myself recommending, thinking about long after finishing, or quietly pressing into other people’s hands.
Without further ado, here are my favourite reads of the year. I hope you find one or two that spark your interest and earn a place on your own reading list.
And as always, I’d love to hear about your favourites in the comments.
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Fiction faves
Year of Wonders, Geraldine Brooks: I picked this one up on the recommendation of my friend Jane, and it’s the first Geraldine Brooks novel I’ve read – but it’s left me very keen to read more. Based on the true story of Eyam, a Derbyshire village that closed itself off during the Great Plague of 1666, it’s a compelling exploration of faith, family and community, told through the eyes of protagonist Anna Frith.
There are Rivers in the Sky, Elif Shafak: I gave this to my husband last year and had to wait until he’d read it before it was my turn – it was worth the wait. A beautifully written, ambitious novel that traces a single drop of water across centuries and continents; profoundly sad, but absolutely worth reading.
Everyone and Everything, Nadine J Cohen: What a delight to come to a novel with no prior knowledge and find it this good. A Sydney-based story about sisterhood, friendship, mental health, swimming and recovery. It was often very funny, and a really fab surprise.
My Favourite Mistake, Marian Keyes: I read this straight after seeing Marian Keyes speak in Hobart, which felt like a balm for the soul. She’s such a reliable writer – entertaining and uncomplicated, but never shying away from life’s complexities – and this was a treat, as always.
Sassafras, Cypress and Indigo, Ntozake Shange: I’d been trying to track this down for ages, and when I finally got my hands on a second-hand copy, I truly loved it. The story of three sisters growing up in Charleston is full of magic, artistry and life. Shange’s writing is beautiful, detailed and vibrant, and I’m now keen to seek out her other novels.
Melanie Cheng, The Burrow: I somehow missed all the fanfare around this on release and went in knowing nothing, thanks to a friend (Jane again!) sending it my way. Beautifully, gently, carefully written, it’s a wonderful and moving study of a family affected by grief.
The Arsonists’ City, Hala Alyan: A beautiful, soaring story set across Damascus and Beirut, Texas and California, following several generations of the same family. It broke my heart and made me laugh out loud; I loved it. I think Hala Alyan’s Salt Houses made last year’s list of favourites, and I’ve just had word that her memoir I’ll Tell You When I’m Home is ready for me to collect at Cracked and Spineless, so perhaps that will make it onto next year’s list too!
Non-fiction faves
The Beautiful Struggle, Ta-Nehisi Coates: I loved this dense, poetic coming-of-age memoir about what it means to grow up as the son of a Black Panther. It demands your full attention, but richly rewards it. (I also enjoyed The Message, a more recent non-fiction collection by Coates, which was released this year and caused all kind of kerfuffle because of the truths he dared to speak…)
Thick, Tressie McMillam Cotton: A magnificent essay collection from a magnificent writer. This had been on my wishlist for ages, and it more than lived up to expectations.
Inciting Joy, Ross Gay: I think I got to this one about halfway through the year, and it truly was a joy. An essay collection about deep, authentic joy rooted in friendship, community action, political solidarity and connection to nature – if you’ve never read Ross Gay, I implore you to start.
Andrew Levy, A Brain Wider than the Sky: Sent to me by a fellow migraineur (thanks Mum!), this memoir weaves the author’s own experience of chronic migraine with history and science. I found it oddly reassuring, particularly in its reminder that there’s no single “right” way to live with migraine. You just have to get on with living.
Cactus Pear for My Beloved, Samah Sabawi: If this isn’t my favourite book of the year, it’s very, very close. A beautiful, moving biography written in an engaging, almost fictional style about the author’s father, his family and his upbringing in Gaza. It’s a wonderful route to understanding and empathy.
Black is the Body, Emily Bernard: Another book I was thrilled to track down second-hand so I could keep it on my shelves. Across twelve essays, Bernard writes with insight and clarity about living in a Black body in America – as an academic, a mother, a partner, and a survivor – and this is one I won’t be passing back into the book ecosystem.
When the Bulbul Stopped Singing, Raja Shehadeh: A short collection of diary entries from 2002, written during the Israeli army’s invasion of Ramallah, it’s quietly devastating – and for readers new to understanding Israel/Palestine, I still think Shehadeh is one of the best writers to provide a way in.
Poetry
A special shout-out to my fave poetry read of the year, Sikfan Glaschu by Sean Wai Keung. Focused on Glasgow and its restaurants, it uses food, place and language to explore belonging, migration and everyday intimacy with great warmth and precision.
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Photo by Olga Tutunaru on Unsplash
Ruth Dawkins Freelance Writer 