As we reflect on our reading year of 2025, we've highlighted the books that left a lasting impact on us. These are the definitive staples of the year — stories that made us laugh, cry, and feel the full breadth of the human experience.
If any of these books resonate with you, you'll find links throughout the blog to explore them further and check them out for yourself.
Ananda's Faves
The Drowning Woman by Robyn Harding
This book kept me guessing, hoping, and stressing throughout. We follow the perspectives of two women: first Lee, who is hiding from her past and living in her car, and then Hazel, a wealthy socialite trapped by an abusive husband. After Lee finds Hazel crying and attempting to throw herself into the ocean, she saves her life, and the two become unlikely friends, beginning a plot to free themselves from the difficult lives they're living. Both women are portrayed with real depth, painting a vivid, three-dimensional portrait of the heart-wrenching pain that anyone can experience.
Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir
Okay, Project Hail Mary, soon to be a film starring Ryan Gosling, is without a doubt my book of the year. I ate it up and wanted more, more, more — yet somehow still felt satisfied with its ending. We follow Ryland Grace, who should not be in space and certainly didn't want to be the lone survivor of a last-chance mission to save Earth. He awakens with no memory of who he is or how he came to be there, and we watch as he slowly uncovers his memories and tries to puzzle out an impossible mystery. Sometimes, Ryland feels like a fully fleshed-out character, while other times he's a walking, talking science textbook. That said, I'm all about punny, humorous main characters with skills I'll never comprehend.
Murder in the Family by Cara Hunter
If you enjoy true crime and are looking for a book with an interesting style and unusual formatting, or if you're the kind of person who loves twist upon twist until it almost gets silly — then Murder in the Family is the book for you.
I love a book with unusual formatting, and this is essentially a fictionalised true crime documentary in book form. We're given police documents, newspaper clippings, and profile summaries, all embedded between the discussions of a varied group of professionals brought together to uncover the question: Who killed Luke Ryder?
Olivia's Faves
Shy Girl by Mia Ballard
Fem-gore horror at its best. We follow Gia, a woman recently out of work who finds herself signing up for a Sugar Daddy website in desperation for money and a roof over her head. She soon discovers that Nathan has a thing for girls acting like dogs… and slowly, she becomes one. Through the lens of horror, Shy Girl has lots of deep and dark discussions around male domination and the lengths men will go to maintain control, and inversely, how far women will go to reclaim their agency.
Bat Eater by Kylie Lee Baker
One of the best pieces of post-COVID fiction I've read. It addresses the systemic racism faced by Asian people during the pandemic through the use of horror and the Chinese Hungry Ghost Festival. As a crime scene cleaner, Cora has witnessed the rise in murdered Asian people, all with dead bats left nearby. The phrase "Bat Eater" is used throughout the book as a slur against Asian people, stemming from the belief that eating bats started COVID. The novel explores culture, complicated familial relationships, identity, detachment from one's culture, health, grief, and racism. It is both beautiful and harrowing.
The Long Walk by Stephen King
Continuing the theme of horror and devastation, The Long Walk was another favourite of the year. After watching the film, I picked the book back up and it destroyed me. The story serves as a metaphor for war, entertainment in times of destruction, propaganda, the mentality of war, the death of innocence, and so many other themes. I loved it. Blasphemously, though, I think I preferred the film. Both versions are great, but the film's different ending felt more effective, in my opinion. Still, without the book, the film wouldn't have been made…
Alice's Faves
Le Fay by Sophie Keetch
I found Keetch's Le Fay filled the void of a lost mythology I've been looking for, wrapped neatly in a fantastical historical fiction novel, though it was the second book in the series (I only realised after finishing it). We follow the infamous Morgan Le Fay, the Arthurian legend herself, as her somewhat happy relationship with her half-brother (King Arthur) soon dissolves into hatred when an old lover re-enters her life. In this feminist retelling of an Arthurian legend, there is a lot of loss and betrayal, but also hope and empowerment. We also get to see how and why Morgan le Fay became the villain she is so famously portrayed as in Arthurian myth.
The Morrigan by Kim Curran
Another feminist retelling, but this time of Irish mythology. This novel tells the story of Ireland's fierce goddess of war: The Morrigan. It marks the beginning of Ireland's creation-myth, a tribe of gods (mainly male gods) rising to power, then falling, and making way for the pre-modern Irish. Among them, a strange red-haired girl seeks power, dreaming of battle, of blood, and of death. It's dark, with unflinching detail and delicious feminine rage; it's a book I couldn't wait to get back into each night.
poyums by Len Pennie
To top it all off, one of my favourite books of 2025 is poyums by Len Pennie. I found Len Pennie through Instagram and found her poems to be funny and relatable. Len's voice throughout her poems is bold, blatantly frank and beautiful, whether she's advocating for women's rights, writing letters to her younger self, or processing past relationships with fairy tales. What I also found cool about Len is the way she moves between English and Scots throughout the collection; it's approachable and interesting.
Sabrina's Faves
The Robber Bride by Margaret Atwood
'Male fantasies, male fantasies, is everything run by male fantasies? Up on a pedestal or down on your knees, it's all a male fantasy…'
I came across this viral quote from The Robber Bride whilst being in my lowkey men-hating era, and I knew I had to buy and read the novel immediately. The story follows the beautiful, mysterious, and utterly cruel Zenia, told from the perspective of three friends who all have a bone to pick with her. Roz, Tony, and Charis each have a different version of Zenia stored in their memory, each one as ruthless and manipulative as the others. What I enjoyed about Zenia's character is that we never truly find out which version is the real her; we are left to speculate, just like every man and woman she has manipulated and wronged throughout the novel.
The story is about female friendship, the brutal nature of the patriarchy, and the way women can either fight against it or use it for their own personal gain.
My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrante
This is actually a re-read for me — I read it a couple years ago, and it was so good I reached for it again this year. Translated from Italian, the story follows the friendship between two girls, Elena and Lila, growing up in a post-fascist Naples, in a poor but lively neighbourhood. It is beautifully written; I find that translated works often have a poetic lyricism in their descriptions, which I love. It touches on themes of poverty, violence, community, love, and friendship through the perspective of Elena, whom we watch grow from a child into a young adult, and explores how the interrelation of violence and love has shaped her worldview and belief system.
Territory of Light by Yuko Tsushima
Another translated work, this short novel was originally published in twelve parts in a Japanese literary magazine between 1978 and 1979. It describes a one-year snapshot of a single mother's life following a divorce from her daughter's father, as she navigates grief at the loss of her relationship, burnout from raising a toddler almost single-handedly, and finding time to appreciate the little moments that make it all worth it. Unhinged motherhood at its finest, there are some points in the novel that are deeply uncomfortable to read but reflect the reality of trying to keep sane under a crazy amount of stress. There are a lot of references to dreams and nightmares, and the story as a whole has a certain dream-like feel to it, which I think reflects the protagonist's almost trance-like dissociation throughout the novel. The story is at once beautiful and unsettling, and deeply moving to read.
Brooke's Faves
Orlanda by Jacqueline Harpman
Having read Jacqueline Harpman's other novel, I Who Have Never Known Men, last year and absolutely adoring it, when I discovered that Orlanda had been translated into English, I knew I needed to read it immediately. The added bonus is that this novel is a modern response to another of my all-time favourite books, Orlando by Virginia Woolf — so you could say I was sold from the get-go!
The novel centres on a repressed literature professor named Aline who, whilst reading Woolf's classic work, experiences her more confident, male alter ego (whom she intuitively names Orlanda) splintering away from her own consciousness to 'take over' that of a young man instead. This is a book fundamentally about the gendering of bodies and its implications for freedom of self-expression and fulfilment, but it is also a really witty and humorous novel that I have highly recommended ever since I put it down!
Sunrise on the Reaping by Suzanne Collins
A list of my favourite reads of the year would not be complete without a special nod to my enduring obsession with The Hunger Games and, of course, Queen Suzanne Collins' latest heart-wrenching instalment in the series, Sunrise on the Reaping. The book transports fans back to the 50th Annual Hunger Games, a Quarter Quell that saw twice as many children sent off to fight to the death than usual, one of whom was the tragically unlucky Haymitch Abernathy. It is safe to say that this book had me in absolute pieces by the end, and the return of so many of my beloved characters from the original trilogy made this an incredible read for me. I cannot wait for the film adaptation to hit the big screen in November 2026 — if you need me, I'll be sitting in the front row of my local cinema waiting!
The Years by Annie Ernaux
Last but not least is Annie Ernaux's rivetingly unique autobiographical novel, The Years. Spanning from her 1940s childhood to her old age at the start of the new millennium, Ernaux chronicles an intricately interwoven story of personal memory and collective history. This was by far one of the most intriguing books that I read this year, and one that has haunted me ever since; I have certainly never read anything quite like it before. I found Ernaux's aspirations towards the invention of a new literary form, that of a 'collective autobiography', particularly profound, and drew much inspiration from the questions she raises surrounding identity, community, and how an 'I' is never truly singular, but instead bound up in the ways it has been influenced by external forces. Definitely a must-read for anyone interested in philosophy, sociology, women's studies, or the nature of time.
Nina's Faves
Sunrise on the Reaping by Suzanne Collins
Like Brooke, I became absolutely obsessed with this book as a long-term fan of The Hunger Games series. I want to discuss how much I enjoyed this book, but 'enjoyed' really isn't the right word choice — the content of Sunrise on the Reaping destroyed my emotional wellbeing and then punched me again for good measure. We thought we knew Haymitch Abernathy's story from Catching Fire and would therefore be a little prepared, but gosh, how wrong we were. Everything that happened to that poor boy from District Twelve was so much worse than I could have imagined. There were multiple times I was reading this book and had to physically stop because the tears blurred my vision too much to continue.
This book was important in so many ways; not only did it continue the signature sociopolitical commentary of the series, but Suzanne Collins was explicit about the dangers of propaganda, especially in a technologically advanced world. The way in which the Capitol controlled the narrative was sickeningly reminiscent of real-world events, and Collins urges us to hold our governments accountable and be vigilantly aware of how truths can be manipulated.
Happy Place by Emily Henry
I am someone who will read anything that Emily Henry writes, and Happy Place has been my favourite so far. I found the characters extremely lovable, and the dialogue beautifully genuine, witty, and heartfelt. I really enjoyed the way chronology was handled, as the story is divided between present-day scenes and flashbacks, which perfectly conveys the intensity and longevity of Harriet and Wyn's love story. I have never been a fan of second-chance romances, often finding the break-ups unnecessary or unrealistic, but this book showed me that I have simply never read one done so well.
I also particularly enjoyed the way long-term friendships were handled in Happy Place, as the tight-knit friend group are all in their thirties and at contradictory life stages. What I love most about Emily Henry's writing is that it is never just about the romance, although she is the queen of compelling love stories. What touched me so much in Happy Place was the exploration of fear: fear of not living up to expectations, fear of growing up, fear of change, and ultimately, the fear of staying the same.
The Whisper of Stars by Cristin Williams
I read this as an ARC through NetGalley and was absolutely blown away by the standard of writing for a debut author. Set in 1920s Russia, in a prison on Solovetsky Island, this was the perfect blend of fantasy and historical fiction. There are three POVs, each with a distinctive voice, and the strength of community in the face of political adversity is a key theme. The magic is subtle, with a greater focus on the grittiness of life on the brutal, wintry island. The dynamics that develop, both platonic and romantic, are compelling and breathe life into the barren environment.
Perhaps my favourite aspect of this book was the way Dima's character uses art as a way to voice his rebellion. He represents the idea that you can still be gentle and kind whilst rallying against injustice. I really look forward to any future work Cristin Williams may write.
