Happy World Book Day! Buy my Book!

It's World Book Day! 

What a week. First pancake day, today World Book Day, Saturday is International Women's Day - all my favourite days in one week! 

But today has a special place in my heart as it is my first World Book Day as a published author. Woohoo! 

Yes, that's right, the first World Book Day since my debut novel, Greta and Boris: A Daring Rescue was published by Our Street books. 

So if you fancy treating yourself to a fabulous read, I would heartily recommend you get yourself a copy toot sweet. 

But what's it about, I hear you ask!

Well, it's about a girl called Greta. On the first day of the summer holidays, she wakes up to find her cat, Boris, has been kidnapped by the Rat King. Why? Because Boris is no ordinary cat. He is the Prince of Cats! 

The Kingdom of Cats know that Greta is the only person in the world who can rescue Boris, as she loves him more than any other living thing. But they also know she can't do it alone. So they send their bravest warrior, Kyrie, to help her on her journey. Together, the pair go on a magical adventure to rescue Boris from the Rat King's clutches. They climb the staircase of autumn leaves, cross the Milky Sea, end the war between the mice tribes and face the terror of the millpond of truth. 

Sounds good huh? 

Here's an excerpt to get you hooked: 

Swish, swish, was the sound that broke into the stillness of the night. Swish, swish, accompanied with scampering and scratching of claws and paws, rushing forward through grass and fallen leaves towards the palace. And if anyone had been awake to hear it, they would have heard that each scurrying paw-step was landing in time, in the rhythm of a march. A soft thud, thud, swish, swish, echoed through the sleepy kingdom, as only the moon looked down on the onward journey of an army that didn’t want to be seen.

The cats slept on, oblivious to the menace that was slowly surrounding them.

The pack of marching creatures started to head up the hill where the palace stood, imposing and magnificent. In the moonlight, the towering building looked even more beautiful and impressive. The rainbow-colored tiles glistened like tiny fairy lights, a blinding spectacle that illuminated the hills and villages below it. The army continued to advance. As the moonlight reflected off their furry backs, it became increasingly obvious which creatures of the animal kingdom were threatening the peaceful palace of the cats. And there could be no doubt at all, when one of the marching many kicked a stone and let loose a wild and pained ‘SQUEAK!’ before hastily being seen to and told off by the leader of the procession.

The moon could see the horrible truth below her now, yet from her lofty place in the sky was powerless to stop it. It was an army of rats. The rats had invaded the Kingdom of Cats. Under the cover of darkness, safe in the knowledge that every kitten, tom and queen would be sleeping soundly, they had made their cowardly advance, confident that no-one would be able to stop them.

I like it, but I wrote it. What do other people think? Well, journalist, broadcaster and writer Bidisha is a fan. She liked it so much, she wrote:

Greta and Boris is touching, exciting, cheeky and vivid, with wonderful characters, a strong narrative and sudden delightful details. It is an adventure that is both heartstopping and heartmelting, at once sentimental and comfortingly predictable. The story's sprinkled with sparkling details, with each location fully realised and a joy to traverse.

So, what are you waiting for? Treat yourself this World Book Day with a fabulous, feminist, fantastic, feline adventure. It's got cats, it's got peril and - most importantly of all - it's got two feisty female leads who will inspire your daughters and your sons. 

Buy now from Amazon, Foyles, Waterstones, Blackwells, or download it for your Kindle. 

And one more thing...

Today is my friend's first World Book Day as a published author too! What's more, he's my publisher stable mate. So if a Dantean journey through Victorian London is more your thing this World Book Day, and you're a lover of beautifully written Gothic horror with a political edge, get yourself a copy of Ben Gwalchmai's Purefinder. Look, I reviewed it, so you know it's good. 

Fabulous feminist event happening in Bristol

I'm posting this to promote an event run by a good friend of mine. Go and take part! 

Press Release

For immediate release:

Film Season Celebrating Women’s History month throughout March at Watershed

Over Women’s History Month in March 2014, Translation/ Transmission: Women’s Activism Across Time and Space will host seven screenings at Watershed, celebrating the diverse ways women activists have communicated their struggle through film.  Well-received and less well-known films will be shown together for the first time in a season that explores the potential of film and feminist media to translate across the boundaries of language, genre, time and culture.

Translation/ Transmission features activist documentaries and women filmmakers from the Women’s Liberation Movement in Britain, Jamaica, Palestine, Germany, Vietnam, USA, Iran and France/ Cameroon, highlighting the diversity of different feminisms across geographical locations and historical moments.

Screenings will take place on Sundays at 1pm and Tuesdays at 6pm every week from 9th March.

The film season opens on 9th March at 1pm with a screening of Calypso Rose the Lioness of the Jungle, about the diva of Calypso music and pioneer of women’s rights, Calypso Rose.  There will also be a singing performance from Nia Melody.

Kingdom of Women (2010) screens on 11th March. It tells the story of women from the Ein El Hilweh refugee camp in Lebanon and the screening will feature a response by Rita from the Bristol-based Palestinian Embassy and Nakba Museum. Rapunzel Let Down Your Hair (1978) and In Our Own Time (1981), two films from the Women’s Liberation Movement in Britain, screen on 16th March, with a response from Clarissa Jacob.

Audre Lorde The Berlin Years: 1984-1992 (2012), a film about the poet’s time spent in Berlin will be screened on 18th March alongside a video of Alexis Paula Gumbs reading her letter to Lorde. Trinh T. Minh-ha’s personal documentary Surname Viet Given Name Nam (1989) will be shown on 23rd March, followed by a discussion led by cultural translation expert Dr Carol O’Sullivan.

A film from the Sistren Theatre Collective from Jamaica, Sweet Sugar Rage (1985) will be screened on 25th March. It will be followed by a response from Dr Gail Lewis. Screening on 30th March is Facing Mirrors (2011), set in contemporary Iran, the film is about a relationship between Rana, a traditional wife and Edi, who is transgender.  Elhum Shakerifar, a documentary film maker, will offer her thoughts on this groundbreaking film.

More information:

@TTBristol2014

Facebook

Tickets available from Watershed’s website

All tickets are £5.50 full/ £4.00 concessions or as part of the season, buy 4 Translation/ Transmission tickets and get a 5th free when bought in person or over the phone.

Translation/ Transmission is grateful to Watershed, Feminist Archive South, Intellect books and University of Bristol for their generous support of the film season.

An honest, too honest, post about being triggered

Before I start this post, I’ll check we all know what we mean by being triggered. It is when something unexpected happens that reminds you of something painful or violent, and it causes a painful reaction in you. Some of the common triggers in feminist writing are discussions of sexual assault, rape, domestic abuse and child sexual abuse. It’s why we put trigger warnings above blogposts that tackle these subjects. It helps to create a safe space for women (and men). 

I am not a victim or survivor of any of the above beyond a couple of incidents of ‘non-severe sexual assault’ and so although I often read articles about violence against women and girls and feel a sense of pain, horror and outrage at the violence committed against women as a class, it doesn’t ‘trigger’ me on the level of a personal experience. 

However I have been a victim and survivor over the years of men abusing me online. And it was this that gave me, the other day, my first experience of being ‘triggered’ in the way I describe it above. 

So, how did this happen? 

A friend of mine tweeted a line-up for a conference and, being nosey and searching for ways to distract me from work, I had a look to see what it was about. The conference had an interesting title, and I wanted to know more.  

One of the speakers shared a name – let’s call him John Smith – with a man who, for a while, persistently left patronising, and then aggressive, and then abusive comments on my blog and, a while later, on my Twitter feed (I blocked him on Twitter pretty swiftly).

Seeing that name, John Smith, made me feel dizzy. I had felt the same when his name turned up in my Twitter @ mentions, after I thought he had decided to leave me alone. I felt sick, and like I wanted to cry. I felt that heaviness in my stomach and that tightness in my chest. I felt angry that he would be speaking at a conference, and then reassured myself that it probably wasn’t the same John Smith. Even so, I couldn’t still the questions in my mind. What if it was same John Smith? What if this conference was giving a platform to a man I knew had written horrible things and had truly upsetting views on women? How could I know for sure? How could I know for sure that he wasn’t the same man, and that he wouldn't be greeted with applause, when all the time he had written these things. My heart was racing and when my colleague tried to ask me something I couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying. 

And then I felt embarrassed. I felt embarrassed to be triggered by an experience of online abuse. After all, I told myself, it’s just online. I have no cause to feel triggered by this, when so many of my sisters all over the world have survived such awful violence. I felt guilty for reacting so seriously. And then I felt ashamed, like I was some kind of coward. And then I felt furious that a name, a name of some unpleasant man who has since disappeared from my online life, could leave me feeling so shitty, so long after it all happened. 

I’ve had worse abuse than the words he dished out to me. In lots of ways, he wasn’t that bad – he didn’t threaten me, for example (it’s so ridiculous that I think it wasn’t as bad because it wasn’t a rape threat but hey, that’s the world of being a woman online). Regular readers will know I went to the police over worse abuse. I think my main upset was caused by the fact that this was the first time it had happened when someone kept coming back for more. While it was happening it felt so persistent. It was the first time I felt that someone was targeting my blog, was watching for everything I wrote, and was using what I wrote as a reason to intimidate me. His words had a pattern, as they went from merely patronising, to aggressive, to outright abusive. 

Why am I writing this post? Partly because of the confusion of emotions I felt after seeing that name – the confusion of horror, upset, guilt, shame and anger. I still feel guilty even writing this. I feel I have no right to these feelings over something that seems so trivial. I feel like I have to keep pointing that out. I have to apologise for being over-sensitive, I have to apologise that something so relatively small on the scale of violence against women had an affect on me. 

And I wanted to write this because I also want to say something about the impact online abuse can have on you. It doesn’t disappear when you delete the comment, or hit the block button on Twitter. There’s some feeling that remains, after you know someone has targeted you with such rage and hate. There’s a feeling that remains. 

But I think most of all I wanted to write this because I don’t want this to happen again. I don’t want some stranger with a common name to have the power to make me feel that shaken. I don’t want him to have that kind of power over me. 

I hope that I won’t allow him to have that power over me again. I am determined he won’t have that power over me again. 

It’s just a name. He was just a nasty coward. He has no right. He has no power to upset me. 

This post is very honest, and as such it’s not that well written. But I needed to write it. 

Feminism and the language of abusers

What do you call a man who tells a woman online that she’s a cunt for writing a blog post expressing her opinion? What do you call a man who says a woman should be slapped for something she tweeted? What do you call a man who tells a woman she needs to shut the fuck up and die, needs a good fuck, needs some dick, should be burnt at the stake, for daring to voice an opinion?

I would call a man who says those things a misogynist. I would call him an abusive man.

I have had nearly all of these things said to me by abusive men at one time or another because I have been outspoken, because I have challenged rape culture, because I have dared, as a woman, to have a voice while living in patriarchy.

It hurts. It hurts when men say these things to you. It makes you feel afraid. It knocks your confidence. It happened last week and I shook all over, and wondered if I could carry on writing. It makes you hesitate before checking your @ mentions, before opening your blog dashboard to read your comments. Seven years of abusive men trying to silence me online, and it has never stopped affecting me. It doesn’t stop.

Yesterday, I saw someone online call a woman blogger a cunt, another saying she should be banned from the internet. I saw another person online tell another woman that she should burn in a fire. I saw someone else making “jokes” about how a woman blogger is probably frigid.

Now, because I have had many abusive men say those words to me, I assumed the perpetrator of these insults were abusive men.

But they weren’t abusive men. They were ‘feminists’.

So I ask the question now. Why are feminists using the language of oppression, using the language of misogyny, using the language of abusive men, to attack other feminists? What does that achieve? How is calling a woman a cunt and saying you hope she burns to death – as thousands of women through history have at the hands of patriarchy – compatible with feminism? What are we hoping to achieve by using the words that have oppressed us, silenced us and harmed us for centuries against other women?

I don’t understand it. I truly don’t. However much you disagree with a woman, however much you want to challenge her views, when you decide to silence her with the words of abusive men, you are putting yourself on the side of patriarchy.

When a man who claims to be feminist writes that his hand is itching to slap a woman who is writing online, that ‘feminist’ is using the tactics that abusive men have used for centuries to silence women. When a woman who claims to be a feminist mocks a woman’s sexuality, she is using the tactics that abusive men have used for centuries to shut women the fuck up. When someone claiming feminism calls a woman a cunt and doesn’t mean it in a ‘hey cunts are beautiful and powerful and awesome’ way, that ‘feminist’ is using the tactics of abusive men to intimidate and silence women.

We know that 1 in 3 women are survivors of sexual assault, rape and domestic abuse. We know that. And yet we seem willing to ignore it when we use the language of abuse to attack other women. We ignore that it might be triggering, that we might be repeating words used towards them in violence, that it might be happening offline as well as online.

We know this is the case when an abusive man does it. That’s why we argue against online abuse.

I don’t believe that there is ever really a good reason to use a misogynist’s language against other women. After all, there are enough misogynists out there already trying to shut us up.

When I started thinking about this post, I remembered when Nadine Dorries was humiliated by David Cameron in the House of Commons, as he ‘joked’ about her being ‘frustrated’. As feminists, we rose up in her defence. We agreed that her views are abhorrent, that her beliefs on abortion are dangerous. But we also agreed that it wasn’t ok for the most powerful man in the country to use sexism to shut her up in a male-dominated parliament. So we defended her. We said that however much we condemn her views, we would not accept the use of misogyny to silence her.

I guess what I’m asking is for something similar to happen today. Other feminists, other women, might have views that we don’t like. They might say things that we totally disagree with, that we find horrible. But that doesn’t mean we act like abusive men. That doesn’t mean we use the tools of patriarchy to silence one another.

This isn’t about not being angry, or about silencing our own anger. It’s not about tone policing or trying to silence women’s voices. Because patriarchy is always trying to shame women’s anger, or minimise it, or refuse it. We need to be angry, and we need to be able to express our anger freely. We have a right to our anger, always. This isn’t about saying that abusive language is ‘unladylike’ etc. etc. It’s about understanding how as feminists, using the language of abuse, the language of misogyny, to silence other women is colluding with patriarchy’s project.

I know I’m not going to make any friends writing this blogpost. But as feminists, I think we always need to think about how our actions, our words, our language works in patriarchy. How our actions collude with patriarchy and how we confront and challenge it.

Audre Lorde famously said that the ‘master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house’.

I am remembering her words, because I believe using patriarchy’s words will never dismantle patriarchy. Adopting the tactics of violent men will never dismantle the structures that enable violence against women and girls.

We need to be angry. We need to fight. We need to shout and scream and yell. But I have had enough of hearing the language of abusive men used to silence women. I don’t care who is using it. Because if you call me a cunt, if you say you hope I get slapped, if you say I need dick, if you say I should die, I will always assume you are an abusive man. Because that’s what abusive men say to me. I don’t put up with it from them. And I won’t put up with it from you.

Celebrity abusers, rape culture and Jim Davidson

This post was originally published on the FWSA blog.

Jim Davidson has won Celebrity Big Brother. Jim Davidson, a man who has an alleged history of intimate partner violence, and whose racist, sexist and homophobic “comedy” led to him being chucked off Celebrity Hell’s Kitchen in 2007. 

Jim Davidson’s third wife alleged that within the first three months of their marriage he had blackened her eyes, damaged her ribs using training weights and kicked her down the stairs. But this abuse is given a free pass. The harm he has caused is ignored. His career continues, the money pours in, and those who dare to mention his history are told to let it go, it’s in the past.  

On Saturday, the Guardian wrote a long and loving article about Mike Tyson. His conviction and imprisonment for raping a woman was brushed off as ‘distressing problems with women’. Since his release from prison, Tyson has become a cult figure, starring in TV shows and movies, going on a book tour and all the while ensuring that his rape conviction is not spoken out loud. Those of us who say this is at very best ‘problematic’ are shouted down, are told he served his time. We’re told we should just let it go. 

On Sunday morning I woke up to find an abusive tweet in my @ mentions because I had in the past called Ched Evans a rapist. For the record, the courts found Ched Evans guilty of rape and sentenced him to jail. He is a rapist. But the fact that he raped a young woman doesn’t prevent his legions of fans from trying to intimidate and silence anyone who points this out. 

These are just three examples of violent, abusive men being lauded, celebrated and defended in one week. Throughout the year you will see many others, while the women they abused are silenced and ignored. These men will receive their awards, will win their popularity contests, and will take home large cheques. All that time their violence will be ignored and brushed aside. Those of us who talk about it will be accused of being ranty feminists who need to let it go. 

When feminists talk about rape culture, this is (in part) what we’re talking about. We’re talking about a culture that excuses, forgives, minimises and ignores men who commit violence against women and girls, and – in these cases – celebrates them as cultural icons. 

Rape culture works like this. No one is going to say rape and violence against women are good things. Look under an article about violence against women on CIF or the Mail Online, and everyone will say ‘of course, rape is an abhorrent act’. And then comes the inevitable ‘but’. Because when faced with a man who is popular, a fun guy who everyone likes or even loves to hate, and who is then revealed to be an abuser of women, people become confused. They have to find a way to bring together their obvious abhorrence of violence against women, and their fondness of this abusive man. So instead, they find ways to minimise the violence. They say that Polanski didn’t commit ‘rape rape’. They say that the woman Ched Evans raped was drunk. They say that Tyson served his time. They say that Jim Davidson’s marriage broke down a long time ago. By doing this, they can maintain that balance of still knowing that ‘violence against women is bad’ while defending the man they admire. 

Meanwhile, as they make these mental gymnastics to absolve male violence, the victims and survivors are silenced and forgotten about. Their experience and the impact of the violence inflicted upon them is dismissed as insignificant. Some go so far in their defence of male abusers as to say that it is in fact worse to be the accused than the victim or survivor. The Grammy awards even counted themselves as the true victims when Chris Brown beat up Rihanna, as his crime meant they couldn’t invite him to perform for at least two years.

This is rape culture in action. And the impact goes further. By ignoring or absolving or excusing the actions of violent men in the public eye, we send the message that if you beat, rape or abuse a woman it doesn’t matter. You can still be a cult hero. You can still win Oscars. You can still have fans willing to abuse other women on your behalf. We send the message to violent men who aren’t famous that their behaviour isn’t so bad. That they can probably get away with it too. Which of course, with a conviction rate of 6.5% and around 90,000 rapes a year, most violent men will. 

When popular men, famous men, love-to-hate men, talented men in the public eye abuse women, our culture closes ranks. We move in to protect them from the feminists who dare to point out their violence, their abuse. Articles are written where the rape is never mentioned. Popularity contests are won because the abuse no longer matters. A man who allegedly beat his partner so viciously that she requested a restraining order against him is described as someone who ‘genuinely likes women’. Our culture protects them, as we develop a conspiracy of silence that hides the truth of their abuse. 

This is what rape culture looks like. Jim Davidson winning Big Brother is what we mean, when as feminists we say that our culture doesn’t care about violence against women. Rape culture is when abusive men’s behaviour gets a free pass, and the women they abuse are silenced, mocked, belittled or become victims of further violence themselves. 

It’s not good enough. 

Last night, the House of Lords let down our young women

TW - description of sexual bullying/violence

‘grabbing my breasts in the school corridors. Sitting opposite me in class and making obscene gestures and threatening comments (“I’m going to fuck you”; “Are you going to sit on my cock?”). Jumping on me in the playground and rubbing against me.’

The above quote is taken from an interview with a young woman interviewed by Kat Banyard in The Equality Illusion. She’s describing the sexual bullying she experiences in school.

Recently, I looked at the Everyday Sexism website to get some testimonials from young women experiencing sexual bullying in school. I looked at just four pages before it all became too painful, and in that short space of time collected the following: 

‘One girl writes that when she was 12, boys would stand at the bottom of the stairs to look up girls’ skirts. When she and her friends reported it to the teacher, they refused to see the problem. Another girl reports that boys taunted her with sexual language, including ‘slut’, for over an hour in class. The teacher responded that ‘boys will be boys’ and the sexual bullying continued for another two years. One girl began to hate her body after boys put empty milk cartons under her breasts and asked for refills. A 12 year-old girl went to her head teacher to report boys who were inappropriately touching her. His response was – surprise surprise – ‘boys will be boys’. He also advised the girls to dress in a less ‘inappropriate fashion’ because boys ‘can’t control it’. Now 14, the girl has endured two more years of sexual bullying, with no help from her teachers.’

Last night, the House of Lords had a chance to do something about this kind of sexual bullying in schools. They had the opportunity to vote in favour of bringing education on consent and respect into schools. And they chose not to. 

In the NSPCC and Bristol University research on Partner Exploitation and Violence in Teenage Intimate Relationships, researchers found that a quarter of girls reported some form of physical violence and 1 in 9 girls reported severe physical violence. Three quarters of girls reported emotional violence and 1 in 3 girls reported sexual violence. Girls were more likely to experience repeated violence than boys and 75% of girls with a “much older” partner experienced physical or sexual violence. 

Research published by the End Violence Against Women Coalition found that 1 in 3 16-18 year olds have experienced unwanted sexual touching, and 1 in 4 said their teachers have never taught them that this is not ok. 

Those numbers, which I have written here before, make me feel physically sick. It makes me feel sick that one in three teenage girls are suffering violence at the hands of their male partners and peers.  

Yesterday, the Lords had a chance to do something about it. And they didn’t. They chose instead to do nothing. 

Education around consent and respect isn’t the only way to tackle violence against teen girls. But it is one way, and it is one very significant way. 

If we teach our young people about consent and respect in relationships, then (duh) they have a better chance of understanding the importance of consent and respect. It’s hardly rocket science. It’s how education works. If we teach young people that enthusiastic consent is a must for sex, if we teach young people that an absence of ‘no’ isn’t the presence of a ‘yes’, if we teach young people that they can have a voice to express what they do and don’t want out of sex, if we teach young people to respect bodily autonomy and integrity then we can help young people begin to discover how to negotiate their sexuality in a mutually consensual and respectful way. 

Of course, it’s not going to eliminate all violence and sexual bullying. But at least it’s a start, and it starts to give young people a context. 

But because of some squeamishness about talking to young people about sex, our political leaders have decided to leave young people out to dry. 

I’ve seen the argument made lots of times that it’s up to parents and guardians to teach their children about sex and consent and respect. Sure, in a perfect world this would be the case. But we don’t live in a perfect world. We live in a world where some parents are abusers themselves, or don’t feel comfortable talking to their children about sex or don’t have the language to talk about it. 

That’s why we have an education system. We don’t trust parents to teach kids long division. We hope that parents will collaborate with teachers and support their kids through their long division homework. But we know that if parents don’t, children will still be given an opportunity to practise their sums. 

Sex education should not be any different. Parents can be encouraged to be a positive voice, but if they’re not then school fills in the gaps. School is a place to learn about being a grown up. It’s the perfect and most logical setting to talk to young people about consent, respect, bodily autonomy, integrity, sex. 

Otherwise, who fills in the gaps of knowledge and understanding? The internet, with p0rn that fetishizes violence and lack of consent and no condoms? From the time I’ve spent doing feminist activism with young women, p0rn isn’t helping them negotiate their sexuality. Instead, we hear story after story of p0rn being used to groom young women, or young women feeling coerced into sex they don't want to have because their partner has seen it in p0rn. Young women's voices are silenced. 

Young people will always have a very natural sexual curiosity. Refusing to teach them sex education isn’t going to change that no matter what the abstinence only crew say. Sex education that focuses on consent and respect helps them develop the tools they need to have mutually consensual and respectful relationships. It teaches them that aggressive sexual bullying is not ok. It teaches them that coercive behaviour is not ok. It teaches them that physically and sexually violence between partners is not ok. 

How can we in good conscience deny our young people that? 

The research by Bristol Uni and the NSPCC and the stories I quote above show us what happens when we deny young people education on consent and respect. And that’s not ok. It’s not good enough. 

How many girls need to be hit by their partner before we stop burying our heads in the sand and start teaching young people about consent and respect? How many young girls must endure sexual taunts, upskirt shots and groping before we recognise their lived experience and do something about it? How many young women will we let down because of an immature squeamishness about talking about sex?

And what about when they grow up? 

Proper sex education needs to be part of a wider solution to tackle male violence against girls. It’s not the only part, but it’s a starting point. It could make a real and important difference to the lives of young people. The fact that our political leaders continue to refuse to bring these conversations into schools is a disgrace. 

Last night the Lords let down Britain’s schoolgirls. They should hang their heads in shame.  

Book Diary 2014

ISo, last year I stopped keeping my book diary as I was a judge on a book prize and it would have meant giving long list details away. But this year I am judging-free (for now...) so book diary is back on.

As before, I will indicate if it's a new or re-read, with a thumbs up or down review.

Happy reading!

Sylvester, Georgette Heyer (new): I came rather late to Ms Heyer and although The Grand Sophy and Venetia are my favourites, Sylvester is good fun.

Alfred and Emily, Doris Lessing (new): a touching novella of what her parent's lives should have been, with a short memoir/reflection of the reality.

The Summer before the dark, Doris Lessing (new): a fantastic novel about a woman's summer away from her family, and what it means when women rebel against convention.

When I lived in modern times, Linda Grant (new): I can't believe I hadn't read this before. It's a fantastic novel about a young Jewish woman going to Israel in 1946.

We had it so good, Linda Grant (re-read): Linda Grant's last book is about the baby boomer generation, from 1960s students to 60 year olds.

How to be a heroine, Samantha Ellis (new): part tour through literature's best heroines, part memoir this is a must read if you love Austen, the Brontes, Little Women, Valley of the Dolls, Lace, Cold Comfort Farm and more. Love love loved it.

Someone at a distance, Dorothy Whipple (new): just started this last night and wish I was curled up reading it now, instead of at work.

Lace, Shirley Conran (re-read): like eating a huge bar of Dairy Milk and feeling a bit sick afterwards. I love the story lines about their careers and women's friendship.

Paris France, Gertrude Stein (new): just wonderful. She is wonderful. Or, as she would say, 'she is very lovely'.

Clampdown: Pop-Cultural Wars on Class and Gender, Rhian E Jones (new) It takes an angry and political look at the portrayal of/impact of Britpop on class and gender and how it's influenced our idea of class today - particularly around 'chav' and working class women. It's brilliantly political and angry and well researched, as well as an exploration of Britpop itself.

The Clothes on their Backs, Linda Grant (new): I'm having a real Linda Grant moment and loving it. This is about a young woman living in London trying to understand where her family has come from.

Claudine in Paris, Colette (re-read): Question - do you need four copies of this book? Answer, yes. Because it's ace. (ftr - in Claudine collection, one in French, one on Kindle and one because I needed a book when I took myself out for lunch and saw it in the charity shop).

The Lie, Helen Dunmore (new): Of course it's brilliant. It's Helen Dunmore's new book and it's heart wrenching and tender and understated and explores shell shock. She is ever awesome.

The Sweetest Dream, Doris Lessing (new): This is so epic in scope and ambition and she pulls it off brilliantly. But of course she does, she's Doris Lessing.

Sedition, Katherine Grant (new): It took me a while to get into this, as it is such a strange book with such weird and unpleasant characters. But once I got into it, I enjoyed it.

The Driver's Seat, Muriel Spark (new): Dark, unsettling, weird. I sometimes people ignore how dark, unsettling and weird her writing is.

Quartet, Jean Rhys (re-read): Rhys' superb roman a clef about her horrible time with Ford Madox Ford. "she could afford to display coldness, and that no good ever comes from being too polite."

Wide Sargasso Sea, Jean Rhys (re-read): Isn't it wonderful? Isn't it though? Is there anything like this book? I don't know. "You changed my name and that is a kind of obeah too"

Wise Children, Angela Carter (re-read): After the misery of Rhys, I needed a rollicking sexy ride through 20th century theatre land. Oh "what a joy it is to dance and sing!"

A Little Princess, Frances Hodgson Burnett (re-read): Because sometimes you need a children's book.

Heartburn, Nora Ephron (new): Inspired by Hadley Freeman, I read this and loved it. I want to give it to all my friends. It's bittersweet, and hilarious, and painfully honest.

The Dud Avocado, Elaine Dundy (re-read): I used to read this in the library as a teen. It is wonderfully weird and funny and touching. When I go to Paris in April, I'm totally wearing an evening dress at breakfast time. Hopefully won't fall in love with violent thieving pimp though.

Mrs Hemingway, Naomi Wood (new): I really enjoyed this novel that explores Hemingway's four marriages from the perspectives of their ends. It was beautifully written with a really interesting use of tense in the Hadley section.

I feel bad about my neck, Nora Ephron (new): I feel eternal gratitude to Hadley Freeman whose book, How To Be Awesome, introduced me to the truly wonderful Nora Ephron.

Crazy Salad, Nora Ephron (new): Nora's journalism about the women's liberation movement is not only a brilliant read for the quality of her writing, it's a fascinating history of second wave feminism with lessons for how we work within the movement today.

How to think more about sex, Alain de Botton (new): This book was recommended to me and it is really interesting, if sometimes uncomfortable reading, about how our attitudes towards our own sexuality are complicated by societal expectations about sex and relationships.

The Cat, Colette (re-read): Her short novella about the conflict between Saha the cat and Camille the bride for Alain's soul is disquieting, beautifully written and full of Colette's trademark sensuality.

Minka and Curdy, Antonia White (new): When Antonia White had writer's block writing the Frost in May books, she wrote this. Never has writer's block created something so joyous.

Americanah, Chimamanda Ngozie Adichie (new): How how how amazing? How wonderful is this book? She's incredible. It's stunning. Read it! Read it now!

The Autobiography of Alice B Toklas, Gertrude Stein (re read): I love this book. It's one of my favourite books of all time. It's a fascinating discovery of the arts and literary scene of Paris from 1907, full of funny and personal stories about Picasso, Braque, Marie Laurencin - the whole gang! But most of all it's a love story about one of the most enduring marriages in literary history.

Beyond Black, Hilary Mantel (new): stunning. Simply stunning. 

From Whitechapel, Melanie Clegg (new): v enjoyed the new Melanie Clegg book - about 3 women whose lives become entangled as a result of the Jack the Ripper murders.

Be Awesome: modern life for modern women, Hadley Freeman (re read): love love love her.

How to be a heroine, Samantha Ellis (re read): revisited this book as I was searching for my literary heroines in Paris.

Bossypants, Tina Fey (re read): got into a "reading memoirs by funny clever women " tip it seemed! 

The Paris Wife, Paula McClain (re read): well, I was in Paris! And was eating dinner in Pre de Clerc when reading about Hem & Hadley eating their dinner there too! 

The Sun Also Rises, Ernest Hemingway (re read): see above! 

Islands in the Stream, Ernest Hemingway (new): and again. I love the first section, when young Tom remembers Paris. Ahh, Paris. What a wonderful week I had!!

Moon Tiger, Penelope Lively (re read): I forgot I read this again a few weeks ago. One of my favourites, a desert island book.

Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte (re read): it's been a while. It's spectacular. So much passion & rage & desperation. I'm reading Jane Eyre again next.

Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte (re read): always #teamjane! I read this again last year too. I love it so much. Mostly when Rochester talks about the cord that binds them, and Jane's incredible "do you think because I am poor and plain" speech.

Frenchman's Creek, Daphne du Maurier (re read): One of my all time favourite books. I cry every time.

Three Lives, Gertrude Stein (re read): Her classic exploration of the lives of three women. I love the way she uses repetition to create strange rhythms.

The Queen of Subtleties, Suzannah Dunn (new): I think the Lucy bits work better than the Anne sections to be honest.

Paris without End, Gioia Dilberto (new): This biography of Hadley, Hemingway's first wife, is a real joy to read. It reads like a novel (good for someone like me!) and brings to life the world the Hemingways lived in, and the vitality of Hadley. 

The Other Side of the Story, Marian Keyes (re read): no one gets million pound book advances anymore do they? But it's nice to dream...

The Blazing World, Siri Hursvedt (new): this is an extraordinary book, really spectacular, made up of fragments, notebooks and interviews to explore identity and sexism and art and psychology and philosophy - it wowed me totally.

The Nonesuch, Georgette Heyer (new): because sometimes you need Ms Heyer.

Cheri, Colette (re read): Just started re reading this. It's her masterpiece. Sex, food, loss, female strength, intelligence - all Colette is here.

The Last of Cheri, Colette (re read): I had forgotten just how incredible this book is. It's really special.

What I Loved, Siri Hustvedt (new): It's just superb. So so fantastic, so beautiful, so incredibly intelligent. I think I love her.  

Women of the Left Bank, Shari Henstock (new): If you want to know everything there is to know about the women of 1920s Paris - which I do - this is THE book.

Farewell to Arms, Ernest Hemingway (new): I loved this. I loved it. My favourite of his novels so far. Understand why people rank it up there with the best. 

For Whom The Bell Tolls, Ernest Hemingway (new): technically this is a re read but at 15 I didn't know what was going on. It's a special book isn't it? Full of Hem truth. Chapter 13's section on seventy hours vs seventy years is monumental.

HERmione, H.D (new): This is a beautiful book that overwhelms the senses with its dense poetic prose. Have long been intrigued by H.D so glad to finally read her properly. 

The Queen's Fool, Philippa Gregory (re read): my fave. Robert Dudley is so swoony. 

Gertrude and Alice, Diana Souhami (new): it's a truly brilliant & passionately researched biography, full of both their voices. You have to read it if, like me, you are fascinated by the pair of them.

Zelda Fitzgerald: Her Voice in Paradise, Sally Cline (new): meticulously researched and thorough biog of Zelda that is honest whilst empathetic. Horrific indictment of 1930s treatment of mental illness.

Save me the Waltz, Zelda Fitzgerald (re-read from a long time ago): So much more than a literary curiosity. It's an intense read.

Been reading lots of sections of The Selected Writings of Gertrude Stein, which has been a joy.

How to be Both, Ali Smith (new): Very lucky to get my hands on this and WOW WOW WOW it is utter joy. She is a genius, the writer of our time. Proper review to follow.

Middlemarch, George Eliot (re-read): I read this at university but it was so wonderful to rediscover this intensely rich and beautiful novel.

The Boys on the Bus by ME!!! (re-read): I self-published a Kindle Single and you should definitely buy it, best book I've read all year ;-)

Tigers are better looking, Jean Rhys (re read): Long time since I read Rhys' short stories. Man, Ford's intro to the Left Bank is a bit me, me, me isn't it! 

Good morning midnight, Jean Rhys (re read): Why didn't you just throw yourself into the Seine? The pain in this novel is almost overwhelming. A perfectly perfect and perfectly frightening book.

After Leaving Mr Mackenzie, Jean Rhys (re read): I was going to do a PhD into the use of clothes and make up to construct identity in Rhys's novels. It never happened...

Voyage in the Dark, Jean Rhys (re read): I'm nineteen and I have to go on living and living and living.

Flappers, Judith Mackerell (new): Great biog of Diana Cooper, Tallulah Bankhead, Josephine Baker, Nancy Cunard, Tamara de Lempicka and Zelda Fitz. Interesting to see a different biographer's perspective on Z. 

A Lady of Quality, Georgette Heyer (new): classic Heyer but was expecting a shocking elopement and rescue tbh!! Rather than an influenza epidemic.

The Talisman Ring, Georgette Heyer (new): good fun. 

Upstairs at the party, Linda Grant (new): excellent new novel from one of my favourite contemporary writers.

The King's Curse, Philippa Gregory (new): I think the best Plantagenet novel remains The Lady of the Rivers. This is alright, not one of her greats. But the afterword - which covered the writing our of women of history and our collective refusal to recognise that Henry VIII committed gross acts of domestic violence, and was a cruel, vicious man – made me cry a bit.

The Paying Guests, Sarah Waters (new): I've only read her Victorian novels which I must now change! This is a fantastic book. 

A place of greater safety, Hilary Mantel (re read): what is so hard with this book is you know how it ends and yet you become so close to Camille et al that it becomes unbearable to reach the end. I love it.

Burial Rites, Hannah Kent (new): This novel is very intense, very beautiful, frightening - I don't really know what to say about it, how to articulate it. You'll need to discover it yourself.

The Quick, Lauren Owen (new): This is a beautifully written Gothic novel, with descriptions that haunt you.

Treasures of Time, Penelope Lively (new): Another great read from this wonderful writer.

Eat my Heart Out: Zoe Pilger (new): Angry, impassioned, challenging and feminist from a really inspiring new talent.

Mrs Dalloway, Virginia Woolf (re read): Really powerful to revisit this very special novel.

Down the Rabbit Hole, Juan Pablo Villalobos, trans Rosalind Harvey (new): It's very hard to write in the voice of a child and be authentic and convincing. This book achieves it beautifully, and through the child's voice the violence of gang life in Mexico is revealed to us. 

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, Anne Bronte (re read): A long time since I re read this and I'm really glad I did. 

Jeeves volume 2, PG Wodehouse (re read): Read this up North, many chuckles and over cups 'of the old life saver'

Marilyn the passion and the paradox, Lois Banner (new): Very interesting, very sad. Was delighted to discover the dinner party with Marilyn, Shelley Winters and Dylan Thomas. 

The Voyage Out, Virginia Woolf (re read): I love this book

The Other Ida, Amy Mason (new): This was a great read by an exciting new writer who is speaking at next year's Bristol Women's Literature Festival.

The Millstone, Margaret Drabble (new): A strange but wonderful book, reminded me a bit of Penelope Lively.

Yes Please, Amy Poehler (new): YES PLEASE! This book is WONDERFUL!!!

My Thirty Years' War, Margaret Anderson (new): The founder and editor of Little Review, the first publisher of Ulysses and all round amazing woman. Her memoirs are ace!

The Other Boleyn Girl, Philippa Gregory (re read): Because I love it.

Jeeves Volume 1, PG Wodehouse (re read): because I was tired and on a train. And you need Jeeves on such occasions. Better than a cup of the old life-saver!

Gillespie and I, Jane Harris (new): What a fantastic book! I bought this on the South Bank because my Kindle battery was low and I was immediately gripped, I read it in a day! Such a surprising, absorbing and brilliantly wicked book.

Singled Out, Virginia Nicholson (new): I'm reading this at the moment (between Jeeves and Gillespie) and it's a fascinating account of the lives of the surplus women post WW1.

Some more Wodehouse (re read): because you can't just read one!

Riders, Jilly Cooper (new): Ok. I have never read a Jilly Cooper in my life. And it seemed like it was some kind of teenage rite of passage that I had missed out on. So I read one. It was shit. I will never read one again.

The World is Round, Gertrude Stein (new): magical.