This is a book that was recommended to be by a friend, but my library didn’t have it, so I requested that they buy it, and they did. I love my library.
This is fantasy, sort of, but totally not my usual cup of tea. It’s a murder mystery set in present day South Dakota? Somewhere up there. Where is Rapid City? Outside of there. It’s set in the prairie, and I had no idea what was happening, or who had killed the ghost, or why, so I read it like a madman, in about 24 hours, during which I also worked and slept. I love books that get me so involved that I’ll read them all in one sitting.
This novel is written by a woman, and has a lady protagonist, so that, along with the YA novel I finished the yesterday, makes +2 on the novels written by women list.
On a related note, I came across a tumblr post reposted by Holly Black (one of my very favorite YA authors) about cover art, publishing, and the bias against women. It made me think about choosing books based on the author’s gender, and how I now go out of my way, or at least consciously chose, to read novels written by women, especially speculative fiction. That isn’t to say I don’t read male authors. I do. All the time. But why do I have to make a conscious choice to real female authors?
I asked my boyfriend about it, about his reading choices, and while he says he doesn’t pick novels based on the gender of the author, which I don’t think he does, he also hasn’t read a novel written by a women since he read Howl’s Moving Caste a year or so ago.
So do we pick novels that look good? Or do we pick novels of authors we know? Is it easier to find appealing looking novels by men? Do women write the same scope of novels as men do? Are they published equally?
The next thing I have out from the library is Barbara Kingsolver’s newest novel Flight Behavior. Not speculative fiction at all, but recommended to me by a friend, and I do love Barbara Kingsolver’s writing. After this, I might take a break from speculative fiction and read some straight fiction. There are some things on my shelves that I’ve been meaning to pick up, mostly written by men.