2024 was another good year for reading – even better than 2023, it turned out. I feel I have successfully developed a good reading habit again and nothing makes me happier these days than sitting down with a coffee and a book to lose myself in it. This year I did a lot of international adventures – including two transatlantic trips (California and NYC), long car journeys into the far north (the Highlands) and the far south (Cornwall) and crossing Europe by train – and books kept me company all along. 

I’ve also realised that many books in this year’s list (almost half) are written by trans and non-binary authors and almostall books are queer in some degree or another – something that I wasn’t necessarily actively pursuing but I suppose reflects some (internal) journey I may have gone through in 2024!

Here is a selection of what I enjoyed the most this past year.

Books written by my new literary crushes

The Lonely City by Olivia Laing

I heard of Laing’s work before but I wasn’t prepared to adore it so quickly and so intensely (also, I find all their reflections on being non-binary and trans incredibly fascinating). This was one of those books I enjoyed so much I didn’t want it to end. A collection of essays about New York City, the artists living there and their relationship with loneliness. (Which was so timely, because I ended up travelling to NYC later in the year almost by pure chance). I learned about the fascinating story of Henry Darger thanks to Laing. I also got acquainted with David Wojnarowicz and Valerie Solanas and educatedmyself on some very important aspects of queer culture. 

Everybody by Olivia Laing

As good as the previous one. It follows the controversial life of Austrian psychologist Wilhelm Reich who lived through two World Wars and ended up emigrating to America. A book about freedom and what it means – and how it can manifest in very different ways depending on the kind of body you inhabit. There were great chapters here about bodies and illness, about the conception and design of prisons and much more.

Dysphoria Mundi by Paul B Preciado

How didn’t I know of Preciado until 2024? This book blew my mind. It’s not an easy read, as Preciado is a great writer but also a philosopher and an academic. Here he combines his experiences of the COVID-19 pandemic (he had to isolate himself in his small flat in Paris on his own as the city went into lockdown and he was ill with COVID-19) and his reflections on how the world is changing in some surprising but also terrifying ways. Preciado is a trans man and has very interesting ideas on dysphoria – he suggests that dysphoria (not only body dysphoria but also ‘world dysphoria’) should perhaps be embraced instead of repressed as it shows that we can’t keep living as we did before because the systems are broken and something has to give.

Testo Junkie by Paul B Preciado

A much earlier book by Preciado, published when he was in his thirties and still identified as a lesbian. It combines an intimate portrait of the first months of his relationship with writer Virginie Despentes and his experimentation with microdoses of testosterone. The other more academic chapters are a nuanced exploration of gender as he argues that we should all be allowed to experiment with hormones if we so wish to. I loved his chapter about drag kings and using theatrics and performance to explore and embrace masculinity.

Voice of the Fish by Lars Horn

A brilliantly written collection of essays by a trans author. The topics are varied: Horn writes about his life growing up with his artist mother obsessed with very strange (and intricate) performative pieces, about his travels from the United Kingdom to Russia to America, about his obsession with fish and swimming, about tattoos and surviving assault and complex trauma. I was in awe from beginning to end, not only because of how well-written this was but how it was weaved in as a perfect net.

Books that felt like a good hug from a friend

Nettle and Bone by T Kingfisher

I enjoy Kingfisher’s writing style immensely and this is my favourite book of hers. A fantasy story about two sisters (yes!) with a main character in her thirties (yes!) and a demonic chicken (YES!) It has its fair share of darkness and horror sprinkled throughout but generally felt as cosy as a good sweater in winter.

Roaming by Jillian Tamaki and Mariko Tamaki

A story of three Canadian nineteen-year-olds who travel together to New York City for the first time: Dani, Zoe and Fiona. Got this as a present from my dear sister to celebrate our coming (and unexpected!) trip to NYC. Dani and Zoe have been best friends for many years but now live far from each other since Zoe decided to go to a different university. Fiona is Dani’s new best friend from uni. There is so much here about becoming an adult, trying to understand who you are whilst keeping those who you love near. Dani misses her friend Zoe and doesn’t like the fact that things seem to be changing. Zoe is going through her own queer awakening and discovering that she’s not really into sciences (the degree she’s studying) but probably literature. Fiona is openly flirting with Zoe but secretly dealing with a lot of tricky stuff. Things are fun until they aren’t anymore. If you ever travelled with friends, you’ll feel this book. Plus, it’s a love letter to New York City. 

A Real Piece of Work by Erin Riley

In my search for books written by non-binary authors, I landed on this one. The honesty and rawness of the essays, the playfulness, the joy – Riley is not only a good writer but a sincere one and by the end of this book I felt I was reading about a friend. Also, I want to note the variety of topics they include here: from finding a romantic partner to complicated family dynamics, OCD, their experiences as a social worker and more.

Most terrifying books (that pretty much made me gag)

Orpheus Builds a Girl by Heather Parry

Like all the best horror, it’s actually based on a real story. And it has some of the most disgusting descriptions ever (I say this as praise, Parry is an excellent writer, and I wouldn’t expect any less from an excellent horror book). 

The story of a doctor who becomes obsessed with a patient, so obsessed in fact that he decides to steal her body after she dies and… keep her… as his… wife? And if you didn’t think this was terrifying enough, wait, when people discover this a lot of them think this is… love? (And yes, all of this also happened in real life. Go do your research if you wish to.)

This book is also about bodies, freedom, and the often terrifying experience of womanhood (inhabiting a body that some men feel entitled to, that they feel they can own, use, possess and control). These are all very relevant matters in these times when abortion rights are being taken away and we have rapists in positions of power.

Mammoth by Eva Baltasar

It starts as a cottagecore fantasy – a woman in her twenties is sick of her life in Barcelona, of noise, pollution and precarious working conditions – so she decides to leave it all behind and move to the countryside. Ah, and she wants nothing more than to become a mother. So far so good?

She ends up renting a derelict cottage without electricity in a little village in the middle of nowhere in Cataluña. She has almost nothing but she’s never been so happy. 

And from here, this novella, slowly but surely, turns into a horror story. This is real horror – about a queer woman without community or resources chasing a dream that is becoming more like a dangerous obsession. Like Parry’s novel, this also had truly revolting scenes (but it’s not less brilliant because of that).

The animal violence in it almost made me stop reading the book. It was brutal. But hey, life in the countryside can be brutal.

I hated reading it but it was a great book – and I added it to the this list in the editing stages because it didn’t feel right to leave a book that has had such a big impact on me out of it.

Books that made me dream of a better future

Knocking Myself Up by Michelle Tea

A book about a forty-year-old queer woman who decides she wants to become a mother. She doesn’t have a partner but after years of struggling with mental health and financial worries, she finally feels she’s in a good position to have a child. What ensues is a very honest, hilarious, sometimes sad, sometimes joyful account of her journey into motherhood. Tea felt like an older sister. She kept things real and I absolutely adored this.

Stone Fruit by Lee Lai

A graphic novel about grappling with trans identity but also about the power of a chosen family. In this story, the two sisters decide to rear the oldest sister’s child together. The younger sister struggles with her relationship with her partner, a trans woman who is going through a lot of heartache after feeling rejected by her religious family.

Firebugs by Nino Bulling

Bittersweet and gorgeous – one of the best accounts I’ve ever read about an individual questioning their own gender identity – and all the ache and hope this brings.

Entwined by Alex Alberto

A book about polyamory, coming out as a non-binary and finding alternative ways of creating a loving family. In this case, by creating meaningful relationships with multiple partners as well as children.

My Child, The Algorithm by Hannah Silva

Part memoir, part experimentation with AI this is the story of a queer woman raising her son on her own after divorcing her wife and son’s other mother. An insightful look into queer motherhood and, again, different parenting and familial styles. As she’s teaching her child to communicate and speak, Silva, who is both an artist and a scholar, is also experimenting with AI and its ability to tell stories.

The Future by Naomi Alderman

What would happen if we got all the richest people in the world (who also happen to be controlling most of its resources and not with the common good in mind) and we convinced them the end of days was coming so they should all go run away to an island in the middle of nowhere to hide in a luxurious bunker (while we all then concentrate on making the world a better place without their interference?)

This is pretty much Alderman’s premise. Although, of course, much darker, complicated, nuanced. But this is, above all, a hopeful book. I enjoyed the polyphonic narrative and the diverse cast of characters. It’s not a perfect book (there were a few plot twists that I struggled with) but overall I loved how it dares to imagine a better future. The thrutopia genre is in!

Books that blew my mind 

The City & The City by China Miéville

I loved the concept of this book. Two cities that co-exist together but should remain apart in their inhabitants’ minds – or else, the punishment could be deadly. The world-building is as unique as it is vibrant and somehow believable. It has a certain East European flavour, archaeological excavations, a bunch of PhD students, and undercover extremist organisations. It’s a deeply philosophical story about nationalism, xenophobia and authoritarianism masquerading as a thriller.

As a colleague said to me when she saw I’d just started reading this: don’t be put off by the first scene (the quintessential ‘a detective finds a beautiful woman dead’) – Miéville is messing with you, the book is not about that. And she was right.

Apocalypse Baby by Virginie Despentes

My favourite book by Despentes so far, because I loved the thriller / lesbian road trip / social critique blend. And because the ending left me gasping. And because the Hyena is one of the best characters I have ever read and I want a series of books about her.

Books that everyone was hyping about (and they were right)

Boulder by Eva Baltasar

It was shortlisted for the International Booker Prize and written in Catalan – I had to read it. I came to it via the Spanish translation (seeing as Catalan and Spanish are much more similar than Catalan and English). It follows the story of a queer woman who loves a nomadic lifestyle so she works as a cook in merchant ships going all over the world. On one of her journeys, she falls wildly in love with another woman from Iceland and ends up moving in with her to this island in the far north. Boulder has given her freedom up but she is content with her partner and a little food truck in Reykjavik. Until her partner decides she wants to have a baby, and because she’s already forty she wants to have it now. 

This is a book about a woman who doesn’t want to become a mother and yet she has to if she doesn’t want to lose her partner. The way it explores motherhood was so interesting – from a queer lens and also from the perspective of a mother who doesn’t want anything less than become one.

Plus Baltasar’s prose (she’s a poet) is gorgeous, sensual, visceral. I actually read all of her novellas in one go (she wrote a trilogy and Boulder is the second one). 

Tomorrow, and tomorrow and tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin

Got a gorgeous hardback copy of this book from my sister for Christmas (I love the cover! It’s so pretty!) What I loved the most about this book was its theme – how it dwells into the creative process of two people who fall in love with each other, not in romantic terms, but in creative ones. If you are an artist you know how special and intense artistic collaborations with other like-minded souls can be.

The two main characters here, Sadie and Sam, have been obsessed with video games since they were little and as adults they join forces to create their own. The emphasis on video game storytelling was so fascinating (as someone who loves video games that have a strong narrative component). It wasn’t a perfect book but I enjoyed reading it so much that it could not be here.