This week’s theme from That Artsy Reader Girl is “Books You’d Be a Fool Not To Read”. My twist on this is that I’m going to talk about books I didn’t expect to love, and even some books that I didn’t love at first but came to love on rereading them. So it’s books/series/authors that I’d have been a fool not to read (and reread) — though you could take that as a recommendation on my part!

1. Feed, by Mira Grant. I think back when I first read this, half the problem was that I was in a very anxious period in my life. I’m not sure if I was on anxiety medication yet; possibly not, or possibly not the more effective medication I later tried. Anyway, Feed scared the crap out of me by hitting me right where my fears were. I still have anxiety, and health-related anxiety at that, but I’ve come a long way by being curious about it and looking my fears right in the face — and I’m really fascinated by Feed now, too.
2. Ancillary Justice, by Ann Leckie. It’s not that I hated this when I first read it, as far as I can remember. But I didn’t quite “get” it either. It was a book everyone had been talking about, and it didn’t seem like my thing. I don’t know quite when that changed, but I think it was while reading the later books — and now when I reread this first one, I love it too.
3. Chalice, by Robin McKinley. The first time I read it, I felt like everything wrapped up too quickly and left me with so many questions. The protagonist spends the whole book not sure what she’s doing, and making it up as she goes along; understanding the boundaries of her abilities by finding them. Reading the book again (and again and again), though, the itch of curiosity is more about figuring more out myself and enjoying the questions.
4. Shades of Milk and Honey, by Mary Robinette Kowal. As with most of the books on this list, it’s not that I hated the book on first read, but it wasn’t an obvious hit either. I think I gave it two stars. It was before I got into romance novels in general, and I really wasn’t an Austen fan. I just didn’t really… get the appeal, and I don’t think I wanted to get the appeal. It stuck in my head, though, and I later read Glamour in Glass and… loved it. At that point I revisited and found that I liked it, actually.
5. A Natural History of Dragons, by Marie Brennan. I know! If you’ve been around here long, you know I loved that book. But I didn’t love it the first time — I think I did give it three stars, “liked it”, but I definitely wasn’t all-in, ride-or-die. I can’t say quite why it didn’t work for me at the time — maybe just mood? But I read Tropic of Serpents, adored it, and reconsidered.
6. The Gabriel Hounds, by Mary Stewart. To be accurate, my change of heart on this was more of a general re-evaluation of Mary Stewart’s work and why I was reading it, what I was interested in, etc. I read The Gabriel Hounds without knowing much about Stewart’s work (and quite possibly after having already disliked her Arthurian retellings), and I don’t think I really let myself get into it. I really should revisit again, because aspects of it have reaaaally stuck with me — though Madam, Will You Talk? remains my favourite.
7. The Talisman Ring, by Georgette Heyer. I can’t remember if this was my first Heyer novel, but I think so (except for maybe her mysteries). It’s a heck of a romp, and it immediately sold me on Heyer’s work.
8. Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, by Susanna Clarke. This one is an absolute brick of a novel, and I remember vividly acquiring it second-hand during my first degree, and tucking myself away in the library to read great big chunks of it between lectures. I actually read it really fast, after entering into the process somewhat dubiously. There are things about it that I hadn’t expected to like — the footnotes, the faux-Regency style, etc — and I’m pretty sure a couple of people I knew had hated it. And yet!
9. An Unsuitable Heir, by KJ Charles. I hadn’t read much romance at this point, and I’m not entirely sure why I requested it on Netgalley — but given how much I love Charles’ work now, I’m very glad I did. I read it for the first time during a visit to my parents-in-law in Canada, so I also have a vivid memory of keeping a careful straight face while reading the sex scenes in the living room, ahaha.
10. Whose Body? by Dorothy L. Sayers. I think (and time proved) that this was not the best starting point for me with Peter Wimsey. He’s not very emotionally present in the story (at least until the end), so if you’ve read a few classic mysteries, you can come into it a bit jaded and not ready to see the detective as a full-blown character. Clouds of Witness or, later, Strong Poison are probably better for that — though really, I think what does it is the cumulative exposure to Lord Peter across the books. I think they’ve all got better (for me) over time as I’ve learned to see where something is Peter being Peter, rather than a generic detective. The audiobook adaptations with Ian Carmichael also add a lot, as well as both adaptations to TV series (older ones with Ian Carmichael, some slightly more recent ones with Edward Petherbridge).

And that’s it! Ten books I wasn’t sure whether I’d like, or which I liked more on reading again. Take these as recommendations if you wish!

It’s been a while since I did Top Ten Tuesday — mostly I haven’t had the brain capacity to think about it, with a lot going on (as discussed elsewhere). But this week’s topic is all about the TBR, and that I can still manage!

So here’s a few thoughts at what I might maybe read in the next few months, or so I hope!

1. Strange Pictures, by Uketsu. This is a mystery novel I came across somewhat recently, and I’m intrigued by the idea (which centres around some strange drawings that provide clues to a horrible mystery). My wife got me an e-copy this weekend, so I’m keen to dig in soon!
2. The Apothecary Diaries (light novels), by Natsu Hyuuga. I have volumes three and four ready to read, and I’m keen to dig in, after volume two got into the mystery of Maomao’s parents. I love Maomao.
3. The Apothecary Diaries (manga), by Nekokurage. Maybe this seems like cheating, but I’ve found it fascinating lately to read the manga/manhua/manhwa adaptations of light novels quite close to when I read the light novels themselves. Often the adaptations are very close, but it does provide a bit of perspective. I’m quite far behind on the manga compared to the light novels, so I’m not sure if I can keep up, but we’ll see!
4. A Drop of Corruption, by Robert Jackson Bennett. I hope to get round to this one fairly imminently, since I have an ARC, but we’ll see…
5. Everything is Tuberculosis, by John Green. I’m likely to dig into this as soon as I get my copy, which is allegedly on the way. I love learning about and talking about tuberculosis, and it sounds like it’s got under Green’s skin too (hopefully not literally). And I’d like to have a new pop-sci book to throw at everyone, since Catching Breath (Kathryn Lougheed) is now pretty old.
6. The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu. I think I may have put this on my list at the start of the year, but then it took until mid-February to actually resolve an issue where my copies hadn’t arrived, and I didn’t want to start on it until I had them all. Maybe soon now!
7. Breath of the Dragon, by Shannon Lee and Fonda Lee. I’m very curious about this one, love the cover, and recently grabbed it on a bookshop trip. So it’s high on my list.
8. Hemlock & Silver, by T. Kingfisher. I love Kingfisher’s work, and I have an ARC of this. I requested it more or less automatically, let’s be honest. Eager to dig in!
9. Necrobane, by Daniel M. Ford. I actually have an ARC of the third book, Advocate, but I need to read the second book first. Hopefully I’ll get around to that soon.
10. Poetic, Mystic, Widow, Wife, by Hetta Howe. This list wouldn’t be complete without a touch more non-fiction, so here we are — a history I’ve been curious about for a while, and one of the books I got for Christmas.

Eager to see what other people have on their lists…

This week’s Top Ten Tuesday theme is about our bookish goals for 2025, which is always an interesting one to ponder. I fall in and out of love with having strict goals like a target number of books to hit: I feel like it’s an important motivator for me to keep making time for reading, but at the same time it risks making reading be about numbers instead of enjoyment. So my goals always try to balance that out… So, without further ado, let’s jump into the goals!

1. Read 400 books this year. This is the same target I managed to hit in 2023 and 2024, so it feels doable now. “400 books” includes novellas, comics, manga, individually published short stories like Kindle Shorts, audiobooks, potentially even radioplays. It’s a deliberately broad selection. If I hit my goal by reading every volume of Fairy Tail, starting again from the beginning, that’s absolutely fine if that’s what I feel like reading.
2. Roll with it. If it hits September and I haven’t been able to read anything like enough, I am absolutely going to drop my goal to whatever seems reasonable. I can be stubborn about this; I “had” to read 66 books in December in order to meet my goal for 2024. But the whole time I was trying to listen to myself and check how much I still wanted to do it, how much I actually felt like reading. There’s no use in a goal that makes you feel miserable, unless your aim is misery.
3. Read 90,000 pages this year. That means the average page count of the books I read should be 225 pages. I’ve avoided setting it too high, so that it leaves plenty of room for manga that clock in at 160 pages, or graphic novels at 100 pages, or whatever it might be — while encouraging me to also read some of my longer books as well to balance the scales.
4. Ensure at least a quarter of my reading is books from my backlog. I’m not sure yet how realistic this is. So far, 84% of my reads (11/13) have been from my backlog, but that’ll probably change later in the year once I’ve received more review copies, been to bookshops, etc. I actually thought about saying half my reading should be from the backlog, and I might still bump this goal up, but I thought I’d start out by seeing how it goes. I think a quarter should be fine, even a half, but I’m a mood reader, so I try not to paint myself into a corner.
5. Read according to my whim, no matter what. Lists are so tempting. I love lists. But as I just mentioned, I’m a mood reader. There’s no way I can stick to a plan to read a specific list of books, or anything of the kind.
6. Read for an hour a day, on average. It doesn’t always happen; I tend to read for a bit under an hour a day during the work week, and then binge on the weekends, at least while I’m still studying. But it’s a good marker and driver of mental health for me: I read more when I feel alright, and I feel better when I read. So I try to keep an eye on this, and ensure I make the time.
7. Try to finish (or DNF) the books I start within a reasonable length of time. I have some books “on hold” that I’ve been partway through for ages, and I’ve been trying to rid myself of that habit. I don’t want to be super restrictive and say “only one book at a time”, because that’s not at all how I read and it isn’t fun. But I would like to keep it to a reasonable number, and have them all be books I’m actively reading, rather than having a handful of books that have been paused for weeks or months.
8. Stay curious. I want to try new things, and things I wouldn’t necessarily automatically pick up. Manga with silly titles (The Other World’s Books Depend on the Bean Counter, I’m eyeing you), non-fiction books about topics I don’t normally read about (though given the range I read, surely few things are unexpected anymore), enormous doorstoppers that will take forever that have been intimidating me (At the Feet of the Sun? I loved the first book, but I’ve been holding off on this one!), and so on and so forth.
9. Read first thing in the morning and last thing at night. I want to stop grabbing my phone first, and reading is an excellent way to start the day slowly, gently, and without immediately turning on the firehose of social media, email, and work. It’s also a good off-ramp for the day, which specifically requires time away from screens, helping to resist the temptation to stay glued to them unil the last minute.
10. Graduate from my MSc. Not a reading goal, you say? No, but if I can just finish this degree, I’ll have more free time again, and you know I’ll be using that for reading. I’m gunning for a distinction, though it feels increasingly difficult to reach; at this point, really I’ll be proud just to finish, because it’s been a rough five years. I’m experienced with studying (this is my fourth degree), and thrive on it to some extent, but the time limit has been a difficult ask alongside full-time work and miscellaneous life events. Technically, I won’t graduate this year (the ceremonies will be in February 2026 — yes, two ceremonies: one from University of London, one from the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine) but I want to be eligible to graduate at the next ceremony. Once that’s done, I’ll be free to spend more time reading, visiting people’s blogs, etc, etc. I look forward to it very much.

And that’s my plans for the year! We’ll see how they go: what I said in #2 applies to all of these, I want to roll with the punches and adjust my goals as-needed!

Today’s theme from That Artsy Reader Girl‘s Top Ten Tuesday is “most anticipated books releasing in the first half of 2025”, so let’s take a look…

1. Murder as a Fine Art, by Carol Carnac (January). Technically this isn’t new, but where would I get my hands on it other than through the British Library Crime Classics reprint? Carol Carnac is slightly better known as E.C.R. Lorac, but sadly less known than she ought to be in all her guises. Her mysteries are some of my favourites, and I’m eager to read this one.
2. A Gentle Noble’s Vacation Recommendation, vol. 10, by Misaki, Momochi, Sando and Lamp Magonote (January). I haven’t quite read all the existing books yet, but I’m eager to keep following Lizel’s adventures, watching him charm everyone he meets, scheme like the best of ’em, and read the entire contents of a bookshop even faster than I would.
3. But Not Too Bold, by Hache Pueyo (February). I’ve read this as an eARC already (review here), but I’m looking forward to seeing what others think. It’s a little bit gothic, a bit creepy, and yet it’s a romance too…
4. The Ten Teacups, by Carter Dickson (February). Another one from the British Library Crime Classics collection. I’ve not always loved the work of Carter Dickson/John Dickson Carr, but I gained a bit more of an appreciation for it in the last year, and I’m curious about this one. There’s still the chance I’ll dislike it, but equally a chance it’ll be a five-star read for me.
5. Emily Wilde’s Compendium of Lost Tales, by Heather Fawcett (February). I love this series, and I’m really happy to have received an eARC for this one as well. The formatting unfortunately leaves something to be desired (it’s an epub clearly generated straight from a PDF without cleanup), so I might hang on for the published version, alas. But I’m super excited to return to Emily’s world.
6. The Tomb of Dragons, by Katherine Addison (March). I urgently need to get to my eARC of this, because I don’t want to wait for the release in March! And here’s firmly hoping that someone finally gives Thara Celehar a hug. (I can dream.)
7. Murder by Memory, by Olivia Waite (March). A fun SF mystery, which I’ve already read (review here). I know a couple of people who are going to love it, and I’m going to very much enjoy their enjoyment.
8. Everything is Tuberculosis, by John Green (March). The number of people who immediately notified this was going to be a thing when the news of it broke was… gratifying, honestly. Y’all know me! Yes, it’s high on my list, and I’m very hopeful for a new book on tuberculosis that will (I hope) make the seriousness of the situation clear to laypeople. Given my current degree and my undergrad dissertation, it probably won’t teach me anything new per se, but I’m always interested in how different people frame the problems — and you never know what someone fresh to the topic may notice or pick out as important. Either way, I expect to have Opinions.
9. A Drop of Corruption, by Robert Jackson Bennett (April). I really liked The Tainted Cup, so I’m keen for the follow-up. I love genre mashes like fantasy and mystery, so this is catnip to me.
10. The Potency of Ungovernable Impulses, by Malka Older (June). Again, I had an eARC copy of this and enjoyed it (review forthcoming) — it might not be my favourite of the Mossa and Pleiti books in some ways, but it was still a fun time, and I’m looking forward to having more people to talk about it with.

And there we go! I’m sure there’s a lot missing, and I’m looking forward to browsing other people’s lists and learning just how much I missed out…

It’s been a minute since I participated in Top Ten Tuesday, because that exhausted student life has caught up with me (apparently that happens even during your fourth degree), but I couldn’t resist this topic, particularly on this very apt date!

Yep, it’s the best of 2024, according to me. Let’s go!

1. Heaven Official’s Blessing, by Mò Xiāng Tóng Xiù. This was an inevitable choice. I started reading The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System in 2023, so of the two MXTX novels I’ve read so far, this was the more obvious pick for “best of 2024” (even though I finished Scum Villain in 2024, and it is very fun). It’s an epic love story, but the plot around the love story is pretty astounding too, with Xie Lian’s principles being tested again and again and again. No matter what, though, he has Hua Cheng at his side — and Feng Xin and Mu Qing too, bickering all the way. I love so many of the characters, love the world, and love Xie Lian’s journey to prove that you don’t have to save yourself at the cost of others.
2. A Gentle Noble’s Vacation Recommendation, by Misaki, Momochi and Sando. I’d love to read the light novel, but for now what we have in translation is the manga — and I fell in love with it all in a heap this December. There are nine volumes out, with the tenth dropping in late January. It’s a fairly low-stakes story: Lizel gets transported to another world, where he proceeds to very competently secure himself an adventurer to show him the ropes and a coterie of fans to make life smooth for him. He’s clearly not as sweet (or at least, not as simply sweet) as people think, but Gil sees through him. It’s not a romance, explicitly, but the bonds he forms with Gil, Eleven, Ray, Judge and Studd (and his existing bond with his king) are pretty heavily coded as romances and crushes. I adore Lizel and his excitement about bookshops, and particularly his “friendship”(?) with Gil. I have a few critiques (female characters where?) but I’ve had so much fun with this series.
3. A Letter to the Luminous Deep, by Sylvie Cathrall. This is a debut that absolutely stole my heart. It’s a bittersweet story, since we see E. and Henery falling in love through their letters when they’ve already been lost, and their siblings working through what happened with grief and love. All the same, I love how the mysteries unfold and intertwine, I love the personalities revealed through their letters, and the world we’re presented with. It’s the first of a series and I absolutely can’t wait. It’s haunted me: when I was partway through it, I kept picking it up to read just a little more, and getting lost for a hundred pages at a time; since then, thoughts of how it’s all going to work out have kept coming back to me.
4. The Notebook: A History of Thinking on Paper, by Roland Allen. This was one of my earliest reads of the year, and I loved it. It’s a ramble through the history of humans using notebooks to think, from simple jottings of numbers to bullet journals, ICU diaries, morning pages, and more. I’ve been a journaller most of my life (though not always on paper), and loved the rambling trip through the history of it. Learning about ICU diaries made me cry, and I gave morning pages a shot because of it. (It’d have gone better if I had more time — maybe when I’m no longer a student?) Definitely a recommended non-fiction.
5. Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries, by Heather Fawcett. It has a bit of a flavour of the Isabella Trent books (by Marie Brennan), which attracted me. It’s by no means a copy, but I could imagine Emily and Isabella getting along beautifully, and they share the same kind of “deranged practicality” that’s Isabella’s hallmark. I love Emily’s serious study of faeries of all types, her knowledge and competence, contrasting with her relative inability with people. (Lovers of Isabella: Emily is even worse at handling stuff like local politics, and doesn’t generally get that kind of thing to come right by her own meddling efforts either.) I found both books of the series so far a lot of pure fun, and not too heavy on the romance as to eclipse Emily’s serious academic endeavours.
6. The Mountain in the Sea, by Ray Nayler. In a way this is three books in one, and I preferred one of the three (and didn’t think that the other two stories wove in as well as they ought to have done). But I was so fascinated by the thread I did love that that didn’t matter. I really, really loved this one, and read it in just a few sittings, always reading just a liiiiittle bit more, just a few more pages won’t hurt, etc, etc. I think it has some weak points, but it presents such a compelling thought experiment that that kind of didn’t matter. I don’t know how well I’m selling this, but it had me mesmerised.
7. Moneta: The Rise and Fall of Ancient Rome in Twelve Coins, by Gareth Harney. This is the kind of history I’ve found myself really liking, where history is teased out of a physical artefact or collection of a similar type of physical artefact. In this case, coins. Harney writes really compellingly, fascinated about his own subject, which is always the most fun kind of non-fiction to read. I usually find it easier to set non-fiction aside for a bit even when I find it really interesting, but I was constantly picking Moneta up to read just a bit more.
8. Hands of Time: A Watchmaker’s History, by Rebecca Struthers. On a similar vein, this tells us the history of watches, and a little bit about the history of the wider world through discussing watches and the changes in timepieces. It’s another one that I found hard to put down, finding myself as absorbed in the detail as Struthers describes being in the watches she mends. It lent me a bit more appreciation for the pocket watch of my grandfather’s that I’ll be inheriting once it’s been fixed.
9. Honey and Pepper, by A.J. Demas. This is a romance set in an alternate Greece, and I ended up really loving the characters. I had some quibbles about the portrayal of slavery (it’s obviously negative, but some of the characters are neck-deep in slaves when they suddenly decide to free them and support them — which doesn’t and shouldn’t erase a lifetime of keeping humans as slaves), but it does try to be nuanced and handle the fact that one of the main characters has complicated feelings about it all.
10. What Moves the Dead, by T. Kingfisher. Horror isn’t entirely my thing, but this novella managed to tiptoe juuust around the edges of things that trigger my anxiety too much, giving a sense of unease that worked well. It’s a retelling of “The Fall of the House of Usher”, but it’s far more than that too, introducing the character of Alex Easton and an element of Ruritanian romance in kan’s origins and cultural baggage. There’s a bunch of fun characters, and Ursula Vernon/T. Kingfisher always writes very engagingly. I liked the sequel too, but What Moves The Dead felt creepier and managed that unease better.

That was a mix of my four and five star reads (I’m stingy, there weren’t many of the latter), and it was very difficult to narrow down what should be included here. Honorable mentions go to The Warden, Out of the Drowning Deep, Rose/House, Written in Bone and The Eye of Osiris.

This week’s theme from That Artsy Reader Girl’s Top Ten Tuesday prompts is about the oldest books on your TBR: not the ones you’ve had the longest, but the ones which were published longest ago.

Mine’s not going to be 100% reflective of the oldest books I’m likely to read, because I only put books on my TBR on StoryGraph if I own them, and I’m likely to read old books through Serial Reader/Project Gutenberg and the library, on a whim, rather than add them to my backlog. A few years ago there’d have been a lot of works from, like, the 1500s or something, but that’s not really my field now and I read all the texts I was interested in back then. Sooo given my predilection for classic mysteries, my guess is that this entire list is going to be taken up with those…

Here we go; let’s see if I’m right!

1. Mr Pottermack’s Oversight, by R. Austin Freeman (1931). This is a classic mystery, reissued recently by the British Library Crime Classics series. I want to get around to it soon, because I rather liked Freeman’s The Eye of Osiris.
2. The Floating Admiral, by the Detection Club (1931). Also a classic mystery, this one written collaboratively by fourteen members of the famous Detection Club, a group of classic crime writers (which still exists today). The group includes Agatha Christie and Dorothy L. Sayers, so I’m definitely curious to read this one. It’s a bit gimmicky, though, so it’s not at the top of my list. I suspect it’ll be a bit of a mix in terms of quality/style.
3. Malice Aforethought, by Francis Iles (1931). I have a couple of others books by Iles/Anthony Berkeley hanging out among the oldest on my TBR, including Before the Fact (1932) and Jumping Jenny (1933). His books are huge classics of the genre and very influential, and I’ve really enjoyed some of them. That said, Iles/Berkeley could be rather misogynistic, and I haven’t felt like risking it yet with the ones that remain. It requires a certain mood and willingness to put up with it.
4. Death at Breakfast, by John Rhode (1935). John Rhode’s mysteries are always solid, workmanlike and enjoyable. They don’t generally have characters with huge personalities (even his series detective, Priestley, doesn’t really stand out in the way that, say, Christie’s Poirot does), and you basically know what you’re getting into, making them excellent comfort reading. I’ve been holding onto Death at Breakfast for the right moment for a while.
5. Murder in the Bookshop, by Carolyn Wells (1936). I really should get to this one, because I do love murder mysteries set in and around bookshops, libraries, museums, etc. I know very little about it or the author, as I don’t think I’ve read any of her other works.
6. Antidote to Venom, by Freeman Wills Crofts (1938). Crofts was really prolific, but I find his work kind of… unmemorable? And a little slow. Still, this one is in the British Library Crime Classics series, and I do want to get round to it.
7. Rocket to the Morgue, by Anthony Boucher (1942). This stands out from the group by being an American classic, and thus out of my usual wheelhouse. I spotted it in a local indie bookshop recently, though, and was curious about the title/cover. Once I read that it was based on Boucher’s experience of being a pulp sci-fi writer, the collision of genres I love made it seem like an excellent choice!
8. Death Knows No Calendar, by John Bude (1942). Bude is another of those classic mystery writers who will generally always write something solid and entertaining, without flair. You know what you’re getting into, and therein lies the pleasure.
9. The Sunday Pigeon Murders, by Craig Rice (1942). About this author and book I know virtually nothing; I got it as part of an “advent calendar” of classic mysteries, and haven’t got round to it yet.
10. Dramatic Murder, by Elizabeth Anthony (1948). This one’s a Christmas mystery, so I’m saving it for December — I actually only just got it last month, from my British Library Crime Classics subscription. As far as I know, the author is new to me, so I’m quite curious.

Aaand as predicted, it’s classic crime all the way down! I hadn’t realised I had so many hanging around unread, I’ll be honest. I tend to hoard them away from myself “for when I need them”, and then forget I have ’em stashed waiting for their moment.

Now might well be their moment, given my reading slump — where’s that copy of Death at Breakfast? When we move, I swear I’m designing the room layouts to include at least two entire floor-to-ceiling bookshelves for my classic crime collection, so I can keep them all in the same place…

Very curious to see everyone else’s lists!

Well folks, I’m writing from a hotel room at a friend’s wedding, and I haven’t talked enough about books yet (even though it was a very nerdy wedding). So, from my hotel room to all of you, here we go: this week’s theme is a Halloween freebie, and I’m here to tell you about books that have freaked me out…

1. Feed, by Mira Grant. When I first read it, it was before the point where I began to try to get curious about my fear of infectious disease, so it was a bit of an unexpected choice for me in many ways. When I initially read it, I didn’t love it — but I later read it again and again, liking it a bit more each time. I don’t think it still freaks me out in the same way, but the fear of infection which drives the story really got under my skin.
2. What Moves The Dead, by T. Kingfisher. This was a much more recent read, of course (just last week!), and I’m a lot more comfortable taking about diseases in general now than I was back then. Still, the fear of contamination drips off this story, and it was probably only Kingfisher’s skill as a writer that kept me reading this one.
3. Spillover, by David Quammen. I know, you probably weren’t expecting non-fiction on this list, but you might be recognising a theme about the things that scare me. I read this book when I was just beginning to see that my fears lessened if I got curious about the subject. It still freaked me out, but it also put me on the path I’m on now (final year of my MSc in Infectious Diseases!).
4. Heaven Official’s Blessing, by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu. Horror isn’t the primary genre of this book, for sure, and it’s not even one that I’d necessarily mention in talking about the book. But there are some genuinely freaky, gross and gory things here, like the buried head in Banyue (I’ll avoid describing anything too graphic and leave it at that: if you know, you know). The main character, Xie Lian, suffers some really horrendous things throughout, as well, some of which is horrifying to contemplate (for example being staked into a coffin, unable to die, for a century or two).
5. Leviathan’s Wake, by James S.A. Corey. This is more sci-fi than horror, especially the later books, but the first book in particular includes a lot of body horror.
6. Sleeping Giants, by Sylvain Neuvel. This one isn’t horror at all, but the moment where a guy has an accident and they use the excuse to turn his knees around so he can better pilot a massive alien mech is quite shocking, and it’s stuck with me ever since.
7. Catching Breath, by Kathryn Lougheed. Another non-fiction for you! I don’t think I was specifically interested in tuberculosis before I read this book, but ultimately I wrote my undergrad dissertation about tuberculosis, because Lougheed convinced me that we don’t pay it enough attention at all — and we should. Drug resistant tuberculosis is scarily hard to cure.
8. Brain on Fire, by Susannah Cahalan. Cahalan experienced a bizarre illness that appeared to be a mental breakdown, and turned out to be an infection. The idea of such a misdiagnosis is terrifying, and some of her early symptoms matched with some of my genuine anxiety symptoms, which was a whole weird thing. There’s a good chance inflammation (not necessarily triggered by infection, but sometimes — and probably more than we think) is actually causing mental illness in some cases (who knows how many). The things we don’t know about our brains definitely freak me out!
9. The End of Everything, by Katie Mack. Non-fiction about physics breaks my brain sometimes — contemplating the massive size of the universe makes me think a lot of stuff about my own significance, what I think happens when we die, etc, that is anxiety-fuelled in the worst way. Is this an obvious choice for a list of books that freaked me out? Nope, but you weren’t asking me to jumpscare you, just what jumpscared me. This was a good book in general — but a bad one for me.
10. He Who Whispers, by John Dickson Carr. There’s a particular scene in this one where I remember thinking, “dang, that’s actually creepy.” It’s a classic mystery — but a particular character is just twisted, in a way that surprised me very much as a first-time reader!

It’s an idiosyncratic list, but it’s mine!

This week’s Top Ten Tuesday prompt is about how your reading habits have changed over time, which is interesting to ponder.

1. I read a lot more non-fiction. It’s a shift I never expected, because I wasn’t that interested in non-fiction when I was younger, but year by year the percentage inches up. At the moment about a third of what I read is non-fiction.
2. I don’t really enjoy YA anymore. There’s a lot of good stuff out there and I might still give it a shot here and there, but many themes just don’t speak to me as much. And that’s fine: at this stage in my life, it’s definitely not aimed at me!
3. I don’t believe in “guilty pleasures”. I try not to value-judge any genre. Reading is meant to be fun, for me, not some kind of moral duty to read “improving” literature — or even stuff that is necessarily “good”.
4. I used to read straight through books more than I do now. Same with series. Part of that is the shift in genres: non-fiction, for example, can really benefit from taking a step back to let yourself sort through the information.
5. I used to reread books even more than I do now. These days I try not to read books too often, because then the gaps can start to show, or it just becomes too familiar-the same way you can autopilot through a familiar area when walking or driving.
6. I think I’m more influenced by other reviewers’ opinions than I used to be. If I loved a book that someone I trust hated, or vice versa, I worry that I’m being weird! I try to notice that feeling, but I’m sure it still affects me at times. Sometimes that’s a good thing, because it prompts me to think something through… but sometimes I don’t feel very in touch with what I enjoyed.
7. I probably read less than I did. In a way it’s not surprising — I’m not studying for a degree in English Lit anymore, and I’m both studying and have a full-time job. But it might be surprising to hear given how many books I do read!
8. I used to be quite picky about where I stopped reading: it had to be the end of a chapter, or at least a scene break. I know, this one’s a bit more niche and precise! But I really used to find it impossible to put down a book unless I was at a “good” stopping-point. I’m a lot more flexible now.
9. I don’t read in bed anymore. It’s bad sleep hygiene and also it’s not that comfy! I like to be sat upright, with my feet on something to bring my knees up closer to my chest.
10. I probably read shorter books these days. It’s an attention span thing, and also — no matter now I try to avoid this happening — a sense of pressure about completing reading goals, having reviews to post, etc.

Alright, that’s it for me for now — how about you?

I skipped last week’s Top Ten Tuesday because I wasn’t feeling it, but this week’s theme is bookish brags and/or confessions, which sounds like fun. Let’s have a think…

Five brags:

1. I read really fast! If you’ve been around here much, you probably know that, but it still catches me by surprise sometimes. In the past, I’ve read around 500 books in a year, though I can’t manage so much now while I have a full-time workload with self-employment, plus a part-time degree: last year I managed 400 books, if I remember rightly. Which is still a lot!
2. I read a whole range of genres. I’m not sure if this is entirely a brag or just a fact, but it’s something that makes me happy and that I like to show off, so I guess I do think it’s a brag. I’ll never run out of reading material at this rate. (Looks nervously at TBR…)
3. I have autoapproval from Tor on Netgalley. It’s great, obviously.
4. My wife is a-okay with “has room for lots of bookcases” being a criteria for any home we rent or buy. I can, theoretically, understand that some people don’t want bookcases to be their primary piece of furniture. Theoretically. But I’m lucky enough that Lisa’s absolutely fine with my ever-expanding collection.
5. An author I love had actually heard of my blog (and liked it). I just about dissolved on the spot.

Five confessions:

1. I get jealous about how fast other people can read (or how much time they have to spare for reading). Like there are people who can read for more than 45 hours in 11 days every time Bookly do a readathon, and I don’t get how they fit it in around other obligations and hobbies. And sometimes I think those people are possibly lying about it. Which… kind of sucks of me, to be honest, because there are definitely people who think I’m lying about how much I read — and it really grinds my gears. I try not to give into this suspicion… but in that specific context, they do potentially have a big prize to win by lying, so I don’t think it’s quite the same as when people accuse me of bragging on social media.
2. Sometimes, I’d rather play FFXIV. I say this as a confession, but I don’t think it’s a bad thing. I think there’s a risk of wrapping one’s whole identity around being bookish, at least for me, so it’s good for me to recognise that sometimes I’d actually rather play a video game… and I definitely know there are readers who think that’s awful of me. I don’t believe in being a purist about how books are always the best. Nope.
3. I think some book bloggers (and especially people on Bookstagram etc) are more interested in conspicuous consumption than books per se. The book hauls people post sometimes seem to be book hauls just for the sake of showing off. I worry about falling under that heading too, when I have my several-times-yearly trips to buy loads of books, or get spoiled for my birthday/Christmas. I try to keep my motive being sharing excitement, and to always ask myself if I want this book or just any book that I can show off. Sometimes the answer has been that I’m veering toward the latter, and then I put the book back. If I discover I really did want that specific book, it’ll be there another time.
4. I suck at listening to audiobooks. I get so impatient with the pace. I almost always put them on about 1.5x speed when I can.
5. I’m super bad at reading books to any kind of time frame. I’m a mood reader, and I stop reading altogether when I feel too much pressure to read something in particular. I always need to be able to just move with my whim.

Okay, it was harder to think of brags than I thought… but that was still fun. Very curious what other people have come up with!

This week’s theme from Top Ten Tuesday is the fall TBR. I don’t particularly theme my reading plans, and I usually go by whim, but I usually have some idea of what’s tempting me… so let’s start there.

1. The Book at War, by Andrew Pettegree. Not the most uplifting book, perhaps, but it looks fascinating, discussing readers and libraries and how they’ve interacted (and been manipulated) during conflicts from the American Civil War onwards. I got it out of the library last week, so I should get to this soon.
2. Yellowface, by R.F. Kuang. I have a library hold on this book, so I’m fairly sure it’ll feature somewhere in my autumn reading. I haven’t actually read anything by R.F. Kuang yet, despite owning The Poppy War and Babel, but I keep getting tempted to give Yellowface a shot (even though it’s a bit outside my usual genres). And oops, now I check the Libby app, looks like it’s my turn!
3. Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, by Mò Xiāng Tóng Xiù. Having loved The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System and being perhaps even more enamoured with Heaven Official’s Blessing (with which I’m nearly finished), it’s inevitable that I’m going to move on to something else by MXTX soon. I’m ready to love Wei Wuxian, but I’ll miss Xie Lian. Technically, Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation was her second webnovel, so I’ve perhaps read things in an odd order. That’s okay, though, they’re not connected.
4. The Mountain in the Sea, by Ray Nayler. My wife really enjoyed this one, and I enjoyed The Tusks of Extinction, so I’m very curious to give it a shot. I have it out of the library, which will also help move it up my list. Octopuses are fascinating, and after the recent disappointment of Remarkably Bright Creatures (which was fine, but not what I hoped for) I’d love something that grapples with the weirdness of an alien intelligence.
5. Deadly Earnest, by Joan Cockin. I got this one for my birthday, after I really enjoyed Curiosity Killed the Cat. Time to dig in, I think — I always love a classic mystery, after all.
6. A River Enchanted, by Rebecca Ross. Technically, I got partway through this earlier in the year, and then got distracted, but I think I’ll have to skim over the opening 100 pages again to get myself back into it. And there’s a sequel too, if I get round to this one.
7. A Sinister Revenge, by Deanna Raybourn. I didn’t love the last book in the series (because of the total lack of communication between them, mostly), but I’m hopeful that this book will get me back into it. I really hope so, because I enjoy Veronica and Stoker, and I want to enjoy their stories.
8. Bitter Waters, by Vivian Shaw. I was really excited to see that this novella had come out, and then I forgot about it and only remembered when I started looking through my TBR for this post! I love Greta Helsing and the world Shaw has built, the whole concept of a GP who treats monsters like vampires and ghouls, so I’m excited to dive back in via this novella. I might reread the rest of the series, too, because I adore it.
9. The Tomb of Dragons, by Katherine Addison. Most likely I’m going to reread all the books in this world, let’s be honest, but I’m so excited to dive into The Tomb of Dragons and see where Thara Celehar is now, after the events of the last book. And let’s face it, I really want to know if Iäna Pel-Thenhior is ever going to give him a hug.
10. The City in Glass, by Nghi Vo. This is actually due out soon, and I haven’t read my e-ARC yet, arrghh! I’ve got to get round to it as soon as I can — I’ve loved most of Nghi Vo’s work, and this sounds like a fascinating world and story. I’m never very sure about comparisons to Ursula Le Guin (and saying Calvino, Miéville and Le Guin as comparisons just seems like an odd mix), but I do trust that Nghi Vo’s work is good and generally to my taste.

And now I’d better hop on my bike and go to the library — books are calling out to me for pickup!

What’s everyone else’s TBR looking like for the autumn?