There's more to life than books, y'know

Mystery and Manners is over, y'all. This concludes my year of reading women - the new reading year arbitrarily starts in March (or near as). I can't say I've missed the Y chromosome, except perhaps when reading Tessa Hadley's The London Train, which was one of those domestic adultery novels (yawn). From my original list, I have failed to to read Eleanor Catton, Lauren Beukes, Barbara Kingsolver, Barbara Pym, and Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. I also wish I'd read more non-Western novels: the only non Euro/American writer I read was Kiran Desai. Given that part of the reason one reads is to find out about other lives, it was poor on my part. I also read far too many modern (21st century) novels, and only a few written before 1950.

I started off with 392 books on my to read list, but now there are 395:- I watch a film and then want to read the book, or I read a good review, or I see something intriguing in a bookshop, or someone gives me a novel, or I finish a book by an author and want to read more by her. Also, I felt a bit unrestricted this year, so my next year's reading is going to be strictly off of my to read list, but not as restricted as when I only read the first 11 books on it; I'm going to read every 10th book, which will mean a mixture of things languishing at the beginning of the list, right the way through to those added this year.

First up is New Grub Street by George Gissing; I love a good Victorian potboiler.