What do you read?

How do you choose? Who do you choose? And where do you read?

A new poll by YouGov for World Book Week has left the chatterati aghast at the number of books most people read. The whole thing is worth a look - especially for the bizarre stats that 1% of those questioned ‘didn’t know’ where they read, and 10% read during breaks at work - but what I found most interesting was what everybody enjoys.

So 55% of those who read occasionally choose fiction, as opposed to 19% who mostly or only read non-fiction books - about a quarter claim they embrace an even mix of both. More women, considerably more, read fiction than men. I was horrified that only 11% organise their books alphabetically but that’s an incoherent rant for another time.

Like you, I’ve been asking myself what shall I read next on a regular basis for decades. Since I finished Roderick the Red in the Griffin Pirate Stories series at infant school, I’ve hopscotched via the Rev W. Awdry’s Railway Series, to Noggin the Nog, Tintin, Jennings and Darbishire, and the Moomins, to Tolkien, to The Eagle of the Ninth, then Vanity Fair (yep, bit of a jump there – but that’s what happens when you’re the son of librarian-teacher-bookseller parents) and Melissa Bank right up to my present-day mishmash which features the likes of C. J. Sansom, Mary Beard, and Alice Oswald.

In my youth I tended to read just whatever I came across, and how I choose now is similarly pretty unsystematic. Rather like the invisible chain Scrooge is unwittingly forging for himself piece by piece in A Christmas Carol, but hopefully in a rather less disagreeable way, like many readers I build up physical and mental piles of books I intend to dive into. I take advice from friends who read a lot as well as from my wife who is always spot on with suggestions. In fact, there are few occasions when book recommendations don’t come up in conversation. I play snooker every Wednesday with a group of friends and some years ago we were told off in no uncertain terms by players on a neighbouring table for allowing our discussions about whether Tom Jones was a suitable book club choice to become overly heated.

I read book reviews in the media (mostly The Guardian and Observer, and Literary Review and Slightly Foxed magazines). I listen to the occasional literary podcast (mostly Backlisted), and regularly pop into my local bookshop, Books on the Hill in St Albans, which always serves up an interesting selection on its front table.

For the last decade or so my largely scattergun approach has had a loose structure: I read a work of fiction, followed by something non-fiction and then a poetry collection on a continually revolving basis. Within that I also make a conscious effort to pick women writers, mix up recently published titles with established classics, and leaven it all with collections of cartoons, photobooks, back copies of Tiger and Scorcher annuals and the occasional graphic novel. At Christmas I always reread The Box of Delights, A Christmas Carol, and Raymond Briggs’s Father Christmas.

Here’s what I’ve read this year so far - three works of non-fiction, two poetry collections, five novels, or to put it another way five male authors and five female authors. It’s fairly representative of my annual balance, although the male-female ratio is more equal than in previous years.

The Notebook: A History of Thinking on Paper by Roland Allen

A Question of Upbringing by Anthony Powell

A City of Bells by Elizabeth Goudge

Acts and Omissions by Catherine Fox

Picnic on Craggy Island: The Surreal Joys of Producing Father Ted by Lissa Evans

A Buyer’s Market by Anthony Powell

Out There by Jamie Mackendrick

The Seven Wonders of the Ancient World by Bettany Hughes

To Be Taught if Fortunate by Becky Chambers

Blossomise by Simon Armitage (illustrated by Angela Harding)

On the go at the moment is The Acceptance World by Anthony Powell (nearly finished, fabulous) and Cold Enough for Snow by Jessica Au (just started, um, not yet convinced, but it’s early days).

And at the top of this newsletter is the kind of ‘to be read’ pile sitting on the side of my desk where I am typing this:

the latest edition of The Book Collector (Spring 2025, an ongoing Christmas present)

Bright Dead Things by Ada Limon (poetry, and modern too, mark you)

Pen Names by Kirsty McHugh and Ian Scott (for a book review)

Jane Austen in 41 Objects by Kathryn Sutherland (ditto)

Pilgimage 1: Pointed Roofs by Dorothy Richardson (brought to my attention by my friend Jonathan Gibbs whose debut novel Randall, or The Painted Grape published by Galley Beggar Press I would strongly recommend)

Dickens & Prince by Nick Hornby (barely discernible under a Chinese edition of Rooms of Their Own and a handmade card made from a damaged copy of a Ladybird book by volunteers at my local Oxfam Bookshop in St Albans).

They’re on top of a copy of 12 Caesars by Suetonius (bought for one of my sons), and a copy of my next book While There Is Tea There Is Hope which is a subliminal advert encouraging you to buy this lovely little trifle when it’s out next month.

I’d be very interested to hear in the comments below how you choose books and what you’re currently reading.