At the end of every year, we ask readers to submit a micro-review of a favourite book they've read in the last twelve months. The book can be from any time or genre - the only qualification is that it has to be a book the reader found particularly memorable, striking or enjoyable. Here are the responses for 2025. Everybody's Reviewing wishes all its readers a happy 2026 - the National Year of Reading!
Kirsten Arcadio
The God of the Woods, by Liz Moore: In a "Psychological Thrillers" group on Facebook, people aren’t too sure. More a mystery than a thriller, says one member. Literary fiction, says another. A flat statement. For me, The God of the Woods by Liz Moore, was all of those things and much more: a perfect literary thriller complete with several different points of view and timelines, it tells the story of the disappearances of two siblings more than a decade apart. Beautifully written, the pace is perfect and the end does not disappoint.
My favourite reads this year are a tribute to public libraries that lent me the books, free of charge. And I’ve chosen three, in different categories.
Non-fiction: The Restless Republic: Britain Without a Crown, by Anna Keays, borrowed from Richmond-on Thames library service, was exciting enough for me to read in bed, even when recovering from the after-effects of my shingles jab. Covering British political history in the years 1649 to 1660, it tells the story of key individuals (including John Bradshaw, Charlotte Stanley, Anna Trapnel and William Petty) to illuminate both the political-religious struggles and the way individuals responded to the turmoils of the time. I was caught up in the history and fascinated by the people.
Fiction: Alive in the Merciful Country, by A. L. Kennedy, borrowed through Notts libraries, was hard to get hold of, though I wanted to read it ever since seeing a copy in Five Leaves Bookshop. I requested it from my local library but first listened to the audio book, which meant I heard it in sections on coach journeys, which was good but not ideal. Now I am half-way through the physical copy which is better – and it’s still engaging, disturbing and funny (sometimes all three at once). It’s set in lockdown and the period leading up to it and is concerned with the practice of kindness and the discovery of joy, even though people cause immense harm. This is a book I expect to re-read regularly, now that the library has acquired a copy.
Poetry: The Paths of Survival, by Josephine Balmer, borrowed from The Poetry Library in London, is a terrific discovery. I’m always attracted by something that uses classical literature but these poems are different from most. They’re based on fragments from Aeschylus’ lost play The Myrmidons (about Achilles and Patroclus) and focus on different moments in which various lines or phrases are quoted, translated or possibly misunderstood. Themes include love, grief and the uncertainty of knowledge:
…speak out… …dissent… …enough
The Trading Game, by Gary Stevenson: A propulsive, whip-smart memoir that follows Stevenson from his working-class East London roots to the trading floor at one of the world’s biggest banks. As bleakly funny as it is insightful, his story illustrates the rot at the heart of global finance and makes a compelling argument for economic equality.
Rohan Fitzpatrick
Jesus Christ Kinski, by Benjamin Myers: Jesus Christ Kinski is a mind-bendingly unique novel focusing on the infamous actor Klaus Kinski’s memorable 1971 performance, Jesus Christ Erlöser, interspliced with a semi-autobiographic tale of obsession from a Yorkshire author. I found Kinski’s perspective both loathsome and fascinating, and the speculative nature of his thoughts, which are at times hilarious and bleak, to be immensely creative and wonderful to read. Mostly, I found the specificity of this book to be inspiring – never relinquish your niche interests!
Mellissa Flowerdew-Clarke
Murderland: Crime and Bloodlust in the Time of Serial Killers, by Caroline Fraser: Aside from the horror of their crimes, what links Ted Bundy, the Green River Killer, the I-5 Killer, the Night Stalker, the Hillside Strangler, and Charles Manson? Caroline Fraser has a theory, and it’s a compelling one. In her exceptional nonfiction thriller Murderland: Crime and Bloodlust in the Time of Serial Killers, she looks past psychology and into the landscape itself. Fraser takes readers deep into the industrial heartland of the Pacific Northwest, where lead, copper, and arsenic smelters shaped entire communities—and poisoned them. What follows is a riveting exploration of nature versus nurture, unearthing the toxic forces that spawned America’s most notorious killers.
Beth Gaylard
Miss Benson's Beetle, by Rachel Joyce: Earlier in the year l was looking for an audiobook that was a bit different - l'd just listened to Jilly Cooper's Rivals - great fun, lusty romp, very much of its time (1980s). For my next listen, I discovered Miss Benson's Beetle, by Rachel Joyce, an unusual tale about a woman explorer and her totally unsuitable companion, also a woman. In search of a fabled beetle, rumoured to live only on one mountain in New Zealand, these two travel to the other side of the world determined to find the little beast if it exists. As they travel, their friendship develops - against all the odds, they are so mismatched. Not a romance, it's very dark in places, but it's also a very funny adventure story, pacy, well-written and moving. I defy you not to cry at the ending.
Karen Powell-Curtis
Lady Tan’s Circle of Women, by Lisa See is inspired by the true story of Tan Yunxian who was one of the few female doctors in fifteenth century China. The novel immerses the reader in Tan Yunxian’s world as a doctor practising Chinese medicine in a society with complex traditions and expectations. As the title suggests, the novel also explores the strength of female friendships, including the close bonds formed in spite of class differences.
Mithila Dutta Roy
Perfection, by Vincenzo Latronico: The aesthetic mask of consumerism mixed with the show-off circus of social media makes a cocktail so hollow for the millennials - that’s what this book is exactly about. If you find yourself adjusting the dishes in a restaurant just at the right angle to take the perfect photo for the gram, I’m afraid, dear friend, this book is for you. Seeking what seems perfect on the screen, the protagonists, Anna and Tom, run after a curated euphoria only to find they have lost themselves along the way. This book is a cry for help.
Karen Rust
Prophet Song, by Paul Lynch: Unflinching and brutal - this 2023 Booker Prize winner is not for the faint hearted. Detailing modern-day Eire's spiral into totalitarianism from the point of view of educated, middle class working mum of four, Eilish Stack, we see how society morphs from normality to horror in such tiny increments that each seems too small to act on alone, but together they bring the point of no return ever nearer. If you can get past the lack of standard dialogue punctuation and unconventional formatting, this is a novel that will inhabit your thoughts for a very long time. By the end, I can only use the word traumatised to describe how I felt (probably as much as from my first read of Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale aged 20), but it's a must read given the times we live in. Read it, but have something light and uplifting lined up for straight after!
Jonathan Taylor
Paul Taylor-McCartney
Harry Whitehead
The Trees, by Percival Everett: A serious novel about lynching, racism and US history that is also hilariously funny? Everett's revenge fantasy transcends simple description, but enough to say I found it unputdownably gripping, profound, as wildly funny as it was horrifying, and entirely unique.
Here are my two favourite reads, non-fiction and fiction, of this year:
Ted Hughes: The Unauthorised Life, by Jonathan Bate: The life of Hughes read like a toxic romance. He was perhaps the nearest real-life embodiment of Heathcliff we are ever likely to see, and unlikely to see again.
The Eleventh Hour, by Salman Rushdie: In these five short stories, Rushdie delights in midnight oblivion and shows that the language of prose need not fall short of poetry.
