Jane Rawson's Blog
June 30, 2019
All your delicious EOFY reading stats
Let’s take a look at the spreadsheet as we hit the halfway mark in another exciting year. Has moving to the country made me read more? Better? Quicker? Do I just spend all my time looking out the window at birds? (Not today – today it’s so windy all the birds are in their homes, wherever those might be.)
I have started 46 books (last year it was 60) and finished all but two of them (last year I gave up on five).
I’ve read five manuscripts (last year: three. I must be moving slower this year – publishers can catch me).
The oldest book I’ve read was from 1999 – Colson Whitehead’s The intuitionist, which was an excellently odd book. I read 11 books published this year, 21 from last year (I’ve been judging a prize), 3 from 2017 and 2016, 2 from 2015, and one each from 2000, 2004, 2006, 2008, 2009 and 2012. None from 2011 (last year there were 7). Of the manuscripts, two will be published later this year. I’ve been a publisher’s reading dream this year.
30 books were by women, 18 by men (manuscripts were 3:2; last year, books were 40:22)
Nine books were by writers of colour (last year, 19: I blame prize reading for this discrepancy). 14 were by Australian writers, which means nearly all the Australian books I read were ones I had to. 13 were from the US and Canada, 11 from Britain and five from Ireland.
My five-star books so far are When one person dies the whole world is over by Mandy Ord, The heavens by Sandra Newman, Riddance by Shelley Jackson, Normal people by Sally Rooney (sorry! But it was really good!), Simpson’s return by Wayne Macauley, Lanny by Max Porter, Pollard by Laura Beatty, and The Overstory by Richard Powers which sure it wasn’t perfect, but who else has tried to write a book like that? That’s 8 compared to 12 at this time last year.
I’ve read 16 fabulist books and 8 about the environment (mostly fiction).
Of all the books I’ve read, only 8 got a permanent spot on the bookshelf – the rest I’ve given away or taken back to the library.
December 19, 2018
The best books
[image error]
I had a really good reading year, according to my reading spreadsheet. The vast majority of books I read fell into the ‘really liked it’ category. This list of the ‘best’ ones could have easily been four times as long. But ten is a standard number, so ten it is. As always, and where possible, links are to libraries where you can borrow the book
attrib. by Eley Williams (2017 – British) – eclectic, astonishing, heart-breaking and delighting short stories that are in love with words.
A tale for the time being by Ruth Ozeki (2013 – Japanese/Canadian) – this book has a lot to say about how you might get through life.
The man with the compound eyes by Wu Ming-Yi (2013 – Taiwanese) – super-confusing and weird and great with a magnificent pay off.
Flames by Robbie Arnott (2018 – Australian) – a story about Tasmania told by some fire and a water rat who is a god and a woman who might be reincarnated into nature when she dies and a man who writes angry letters and also by almost anyone/thing you can think of who might tell a story about Tasmania.
Warlight by Michael Ondaatje (2018 – Sri Lankan/Canadian) – if you don’t already love MO this isn’t going to change your mind. I already love MO.
Trieste by Dasa Drndic (2012, Croatian) – thank you to Bram Presser for recommending this incredible book, which is a virulent condemnation of everyone who stands by and lets evil happen.
Less by Andrew Sean Greer (2017, American) – the funniest sad book I’ve read maybe ever. An utter gem.
Animalia, an edition of Granta (2017, maybe? British) – a collection of stories, essays, poems and pictures about animals, including Nell Zink’s hilarious ‘The Kabul markhor’, Rebecca Giggs’ beautiful essay ‘Loggerheads’, a ferocious look inside slaughterhouses and Elliot Ross’ remarkable photographs.
Animals strike curious poses by Elena Passarello (2017, American) – strange insights into animals. Essays, I suppose, but perhaps they’re really non-fiction poems.
Songwoman by Ilka Tampke (2018, Australian)- what is home? Who gets to be home? Whose version of home is the right one? Also, adventure and romance. Songwoman has all the good stuff.
And this year, new to ‘best books’, my most anticipated books of the new year. Or, at least, books I read in manuscript form that are either being published next year or SHOULD be published next year if publishers have any sense at all. Keep your eyes peeled for:
Crossings by Alex Landragin, published by Picador Australia late next year.
Fled by Meg Keneally, out in April next year.
Bushwalking in Tasmania by Ben Walter, which fans of Flames would totally love and which someone should publish.
Try a little tenderness by Patrick Allington, the blurb for which – when it is inevitably published – will say something like ‘a stunning work of imagination’, ‘you never knew fiction could do this’ and ‘I wish I wrote it’.
It’s the most graphable time of the year
Nothing says festive season like graphs. Welcome to ‘my year in reading, unnecessarily graphed’.
This year I started 104 books. I gave up on seven of them; two of them I’ve been reading for months, but I still intend to finish them.
Ten of them were required reading: five were manuscripts from other writers, and five were books I had to read for an essay on animals.
At the beginning of the year I claimed I would read no books by white Australian authors published after 1997, unless the book was by a friend (I was trying to diversify my reading). Either I have a lot of friends, or I just totally failed at that. I also wanted to read more books by writers of colour (which I did: 27 in total) and books in translation (I managed 11).
Now let’s take a look at those graphs.
[image error]
That’s a good year in reading. The vast majority of books I read I liked a lot. It’s making my ‘best books of the year’ post very difficult, which is why I haven’t done it.
[image error]
Female writers have definitely become my default, maybe because so many contemporary Australian books are written by women, and I tend to read a lot of those books (despite my vow above).
[image error]
Sorry about all those lost royalties, authors. Thanks, Savers Footscray, for keeping my bookshelves stocked, to my friends (I’m looking at you, Justine) who lend me books and to those publishers who every now and again pop a copy of a new release in the post for me. This year I’ve been buying more books direct from indie publishers, particularly in the UK, and reducing my Booktopia bill a bit. As always, Footscray library is the total best.
[image error]
Comparing some apples and oranges there to make my reading look more diverse. It still looks totally not diverse. Wow I read a lot of books from three places.
[image error]
So much for not reading as many ‘must-read new releases’. Let’s have a closer look at those stats though: why so many books from 2011? Who knows: they were Swamplandia, Adelaide, Zone One, The Cat’s Table, The Monsoon Bride, End of the Night Girl, Trieste and The Night Circus (E. Morgenstern version). For what it’s worth, The Cat’s Table, Zone One and Trieste were among my favourite books of the year. Maybe I’ll only read books published in 2011 next year.
Other random stats: I meant to read more poetry this year, but only read two books: Rachael Mead’s The flaw in the pattern (which is great) and Han Kang’s The white book, which isn’t even technically poetry. And most of the books I read fell into one (or all) of these categories: ‘about the environment’, ‘historical’, ‘speculative fiction’.
In summary, reading is still the best. Maybe I should start graphing everything I do and giving it a star rating. Reading will win by miles.
July 15, 2018
EOFY reading report: statstastic
How exciting is the end of financial year? So exciting I forgot it had even happened. Sixteen days later I remembered I usually (OK, once) do a quick countdown of how my reading has gone in the first six months of the year. Last time I might have done the whole financial year. Who knows. I certainly don’t. Anyway, this time I’m doing six months. Let’s see where we’re at.
I have started 60 books, and also read three manuscripts.
I gave up on five of them.
12 books were published this year, 18 in 2017, 7 in 2016, 2 in 2015, 1 in 2014, 3 in 2013, 1 in 2012 and – weirdly – 7 in 2011. No idea why I love that year so much. Of the rest, there were four from the 2000s, three from the ’80s (Mrs Caliban, Sister Kate, An artist of the floating world), one from 1961 (The prime of Miss Jean Brodie) and one from 1944 (Christina Stead’s For love alone).
40 books were written by women, 22 by men; 19 were by writers of colour; 25 were Australians.
I’ve read 20 books that I felt obliged to.
I’ve totally loved 12 books, among them Ruth Ozecki’s A tale for the time being, China Mieville’s This census taker, Eley Williams’ attrib., Wu Ming-Yi’s The man with the compound eyes, Robbie Arnott’s Flames, Michael Ondaatje’s Warlight and Dasa Drndc’s Trieste.
I seem to be ordering a lot of books from Booktopia or getting them from the library. Sorry local bookshops…
See you back here at the end of the year for the full write-up WITH GRAPHS AND CHARTS.
July 12, 2018
A long chat, and some panels
I’m doing a bunch of events in early August.[image error]
In Adelaide:
Tuesday 7 August at 6.30pm – A lecture I called ‘Inside wild minds’, looking at the predicament of wild animals, and how fiction might help us care about it. It’s on at Flinders University at Victoria Square, Room 1, Level 1, 182 Victoria Square.
Wednesday 8 August at 6pm – A Q&A with Patrick Allington at Imprints Booksellers (a fine store – they told me to read Colson Whitehead’s Zone One and they were right), 107 Hindley St.
Saturday 11 August at noon – Stories in the landscape . I interview Inga Simpson, Jessie Cole and Paul Collis about how the landscape informs their work.
Saturday 11 August at 3pm – From the wreck of history . Lesley Robertson asks Chris Womersley and me what we were thinking.
Saturday 11 August from 7pm – Story Club . Seems I’m going to get on stage and tell a funny true story about ‘Only in the country’.
Come along if you happen to be in Australia’s finest capital city, or looking to get a crate of excellent NSW shiraz.
[image error]
April 21, 2018
More stories! More essays!
I finally got around to updating my ‘Stories and essays‘ page, which it seems I haven’t touched since mid-2016. All my latest publications, online and off, free and paid, are now on there.
In other news, I went to a brilliant workshop with Charlotte Wood at Writers Victoria yesterday, and I now feel slightly more equipped to have another go at this alleged novel I’m writing. Wish me luck.
March 8, 2018
Late for International Women’s Day
… and lacking even my usual minor attempts at layout and panache, this is my list of the best feminist books I’ve read since last International Women’s Day. Links are to reviews that go some way to talking about why I’ve chosen the books I’ve chosen. Sorry about the rushed post!
[image error]
Kingfishers catch fire by Rumer Godden (1953)
[image error]
Hera Lindsay Bird by Hera Lindsay Bird (2016)
[image error]
Things we lost in the fire by Mariana Enriquez (2017)
[image error]
Madame Zero by Sarah Hall (2017)
[image error]
The monkey’s mask by Dorothy Porter (1994)
[image error]
The summer book by Tove Jannson (1972)
[image error]
For love alone by Christina Stead (1944)
The picture up the top is ‘Girl reading’ by Isaac Israels.
March 1, 2018
Adelaide, Newcastle and England on the internet
I’m doing a few festival appearances over the next few months. First up: Adelaide Writers Week (which is next week):
Catherine McKinnon and I will be talking about Invented Histories on Saturday
I’m doing a ‘meet the writer‘ at Dymocks in Rundle Mall on Monday
I’m chairing a session with Maja Lunde and Harriet McKnight on Tuesday (this one will also be live streamed on the festival’s website)
Claire G Coleman and I talk about Seeking Refuge on Wednesday
Newcastle Writers Festival is on 6-8 April and I’m doing a couple of sessions on the Saturday:
Outside the Square, talking about experimental writing with my Kanganoulipo colleagues Julie Koh and Ryan O’Neill
Crossing Over, a conversation about writing in multiple genres.
Meanwhile, I was utterly delighted to get a six-star (out of five) rating from UK book blogger Simon Savidge. You can watch Simon talk about From the Wreck, and about how he wants to read more Australian authors (send him your books, fellow writers).
December 7, 2017
My year in books, even less rigorously graphed than usual
[image error]
‘Get a hobby.’
The ‘will finish’ books are I contain multitudes by Ed Yong, about bacteria (it’s FASCINATING) and Secondhand time by Svetlana Alexievich, an oral history of the breakdown of the Soviet Union which is, huh, I don’t have a word for it. It’s extraordinary. They’re both very long and they’re both non-fiction and they both don’t need to be read all at once and so I’m reading them in bits.
[image error]
I would love to love every book I read. But this isn’t a bad result. The ‘didn’t likes’ always seem to come in a run, which makes me wonder whether it’s the books that are the problem or the reader. Wow, I really didn’t like some books that everyone else loved though.
[image error]
This is about standard for me, and I think about matches the ratio of ‘books published by’.
[image error]
I really liked a lot of the books I read this year that were published this year, but I’m still thinking I’ll cut down on new books next year. It’s a bit hopeless to have read nothing before 1950 for the whole year. And it can be fairly unsatisfying getting caught up in all the hype about new books that are great just because they’re new.
[image error]
A big bump in translated books this year, thanks partly to my visit to Mexico, which made me feel obliged to read more Mexican fiction, and to my pal Justine, who lent me books by Latin American horror writers. Pretty sure I read around zero historical fiction last year – there’s nothing like suddenly being a historical fiction writer to get you reading in the genre. My favourite alleged genre is still ‘slipstream’ – books that are like real life but not quite. Of course, some books got no category and some got many (Lincoln in the Bardo is historical and slipstream; Fever dream is translated and horror). These categories are frightfully random.
[image error]
Too many Australians. Too few writers from anywhere in Africa; that is, none. I’m going to read fewer Australian authors next year. I know: controversial.
[image error]
I still like one big book best. Or maybe there are just more one big books being marketed to me, so I have a tendency to read them. Most of the short stories were collections rather than anthologies. And poetry was an exciting new entry – the two poetry books I read were among my favourite books of the year. More poetry!
[image error]
I got some book vouchers for Christmas and I think I counted those as gifts. I also got some books that were gifts. Or maybe they were meant to be borrowed and I just never gave them back. There seem to be an awful lot of gift books on this list. Thanks as always to Footscray Library and Footscray Savers for letting me take a chance on books I might otherwise never have read. And to my go-to indie bookshops, Readings, Hill of Content, Paperback Books and The Sun in Yarraville. Fine bookshops all. The books I most often give up on are books on Kindle. If I added ‘books I bought but forgot I ever owned and thus never read’ to this list, the Kindle category would be huge. Imagine if I kept a list of all the books I bought…
Missing from the graphs this year is ‘why I read it’. I’ve given up on that: it never tells me anything useful.
In summary, I still have no idea how to pick a good book every time, and I still – mostly – love reading more than anything.
December 4, 2017
The best books
I’ve read about 100 books this year and these were the ones I liked best. Links are, where possible, to libraries where you can borrow the book (because library books are free to you but the authors still get paid). Books in bold were published this year.
This list is way too long and for that I apologise. I’ve tried to break it up a bit. Once again, I mostly liked books that were trying to do something either a little bit odd or a big bit odd.
The five best books
The dig by Cynan Jones (Wales) – Overwhelming grief and sheer bloody mindedness in rural Wales: what a bleak, gritty, beautifully written little bastard of a book this is.
Winter by Ali Smith (Scotland) – I honestly reckon Ali Smith is my favourite living writer. There is no one else like her. And who else has been writing this long and is still so alive to the minutiae of the everyday world?
Rubik by Elizabeth Tan (Australia) – Incredibly smart and, like Winter, entirely set in the reality of the present, with technology, politics and all that other stuff most writers try to ignore. Also includes the near future. Each story builds on those before to present a dazzling, compelling whole.
Draw your weapons by Sarah Sentilles (US) – People kept telling me to read this and for about two-thirds of it I was sceptical and then suddenly I was not. What is art for? What is your gaze for? If you create, you should really, really read this book.
Hera Lindsay Bird by Hera Lindsay Bird (NZ) – I stood next to Hera in George Saunders’ signing line at Auckland Literary Festival and we had an excellent chat, so I bought her book. Then I read it to my husband each night at bedtime, and we had a bloody great time. Recommended for reading aloud.
International novels
LaRose by Louise Erdrich (US/Chippewa)
Lincoln in the Bardo by George Saunders (US)
Days without end by Sebastian Barry (Ireland)
Kingfishers catch fire by Rumer Godden (England)
Scratch by Steve Himmer (US)
Universal Harvester by John Darnielle (US)
Reservoir 13 by Jon McGregor (England)
New York 2140 by Kim Stanley Robinson (US)
Broken River by J Robert Lennon (US)
The wanderers by Meg Howrey (US)
Home fire by Kamila Shamsie (Pakistan)
Australian novels
Psynode by Marlee Jane Ward
See what I have done by Sarah Schmidt
Carrion Colony by Richard King
The book of dirt by Bram Presser
Too easy by JM Green
Non-fiction
The ’80s by Frank Bongiorno (Aust)
Her father’s daughter by Alice Pung (Aust)
Can you tolerate this? by Ashleigh Young (NZ)
Other minds by Peter Godfrey-Smith (Aust)
The trauma cleaner by Sarah Krasnostein (Aust)
Short stories
Madame Zero by Sarah Hall (England)
Poetry
The monkey’s mask by Dorothy Porter (Aust)
