Jessica's Reading Journey

Jess
Aug 27
5 min read

I came to love reading in primary school, favouring Enid Blyton’s The Famous Five collection after first falling for The Magic Faraway Tree. I remember being caught up in the Enchanted Wood, finding both curiosity and comfort in Blyton’s fantastical characters like Moon Face and Dame Washalot. At that age, I didn’t pick up on any hidden meanings. I was just enjoying the escapism, that feeling of being drawn into a world, something every reader knows well. The Magic Faraway Tree felt like a door to somewhere new, with each chapter promising a different magical land.

I moved on to The Famous Five books, enjoying how the children were off on their own, away from their parents. Five Go Off to Camp was a favourite. I even enjoyed reading about them doing everyday things like visiting the farm or shopping for groceries. Enid Blyton captured what so many children want, including a sense of freedom, the thrill of adventure, and the joy of watching people your own age being fearless.

Around the same time, I read My Sister Jodie by Jacqueline Wilson. Her stories had a realness to them that stuck with me. Jodie was bold and complicated, and her relationship with Pearl was undeniably real and relatable. It was one of the first books that made me think more deeply about growing up, family, and loss. I also adored Melchester College as a setting that paired well with the changing situation of Pearl’s family. The book created such contrast between the two sisters but never failed to make both Pearl and Jodie endearing, flawed and unique.

In the first year of secondary school, along with many classmates, The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins became a bit of a fixation. I’d happily reread the trilogy now, and I genuinely believe it’ll one day be considered a modern classic, much like 1984. I was fascinated by Katniss and her relationship with Prim, the way she navigated family tension, and how much weight each of her choices carried. The political complexity of the world, alongside Collins' gripping writing style, made for a brilliant balance. Katniss felt like something new. She wasn’t perfect, but she was a strong role model. Her slow-burning and complex relationship with Peter was also something I hadn’t encountered in other YA books and I enjoyed this nuanced approach to love.

More recently, I read A Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, the YA prequel, and loved how it added depth to the original story. It felt sharp and unsettling, and it changed the way I looked at the original trilogy in a good way. I also love to see the world through a particularly unreliable or twisted perspective and enjoyed that Snow was a layered character, not a cartoon villain but also not a sob story. His choices made him who he was and set in motion the events to come. Collins convinced me that Coriolanus could have gone the other way in moments, which is masterful considering the prequel status!

Top Picks

I’d have to say my number one book is Wolf Hall by the incredible Hilary Mantel. I read the trilogy while working on my university dissertation, which was a Tudor short story, and I was completely drawn in. If you haven’t read Mantel’s novels or seen the BBC adaptation starring Mark Rylance, I honestly can’t recommend them enough. Mantel brought Thomas Cromwell to life in a way I’d never encountered before. The trilogy is full of historical detail while maintaining layered, deeply human characters. Her prose is beautiful and so at home in the landscape. I particularly love her metaphors. Even the longer, denser passages feel like they’re building to something vital. Despite the length of the books, there’s not a single word wasted.

Another defining read for me was The Bloody Chamber by Angela Carter, which I read for A-level English Literature. It sparked a love for gothic fiction, particularly stories that centre female voices. I’ve since read things like Carmilla and Her Body and Other Parties, and I keep coming back to this space where myth/fairy-tale, horror, and femininity intersect. Carter’s stories are sensual, strange and lyrical. The Bloody Chamber (the title story) is a sharp, unsettling retelling of Bluebeard, while my personal favourite, The Erl King, has a more subtle kind of darkness. It’s not talked about as much, but I think it deserves to be. The imagery and tone have stayed with me for years.

More recently, The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson stood out. It’s a ghost story, yes, but what lingers is the feeling of unease and disconnection. Eleanor’s loneliness is just as haunting as the house itself, and Jackson’s writing creates this atmosphere that quietly builds until it completely envelops you. I wouldn’t say it is terrifying but more chilling in a very layered way.

Piranesi by Susanna Clarke is another one I’d recommend to almost anyone. It’s such a clever, poetic little novel set in a surreal, otherworldly house filled with endless halls and statues. I don’t want to spoil it, because part of the joy is uncovering the mystery but it’s vaguely about memory, isolation and knowledge. If that sounds like something you’d enjoy, you’re in luck, our August book club will be all about Piranesi, so look out for it!

One more to mention is Special Topics in Calamity Physics by Marisha Pessl. It’s witty, dense with references, and narrated by Blue van Meer, an academically gifted teenager caught in a web of mystery and performance. It’s got an eccentric private school setting, a secretive teacher, and a coming-of-age story underneath it all. Some elements of the book felt like a call back to My Sister Jodie, with the first-person, introspective protagonists providing a comparable worldview. The school setting, underlying tragedy and complex female relationships also contributed to Pessl’s novel feeling like My Sister Jodie’s older sister, at least to me. The joys of a book that gets you never fade, even when the plot points and character names might!