The Books I Read in October 2025
While I am usually a mood reader, there was something about this autumn that made me want to read a more curated list for October. You’ll notice all of the books that I read have some sort of Halloween or spooky season thread, and it made for a really successful month of reading. In particular, I really want to recommend you all The Wax Child and I Who Have Never Known Men as they really stood out to me! On the big books front, I finally finished Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell after two months of carrying that 1000+ pager with me, and it was definitely worth it.
October reads
- The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches by Sangu Mandanna
- Hauntings by Vernon Lee (ARC)
- I Who Have Never Known Men by Jacqueline Harpman
- The Wax Child by Olga Ravn (ARC)
- Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke
November to-be-read list
- The Rose Field by Philip Pullman
- Never Ever After by Sue Lynn Tan
- You, Again by Megan Portorreal
- Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel
In review
Hauntings by Vernon Lee (ARC)
Thanks Smith & Taylor and NetGalley for my advanced reader copy!
Rating: 3 stars
Although this collection of horror stories was only short, it took me absolutely ages to read Hauntings by Vernon Lee. Vernon Lee was the pen name of Violet Paget, a queer female author, and this edition is the newest republication of her work. Through a handful of (aptly) haunting stories, Lee conjures a deep rattling obsession and psychological twists, brought to life, or death, through rich, rambling sentences that only add to the decadence of her stories. There are endless layers of history, mythology and metaphors at play that wrestle with the archaic language used throughout, creating a cerebral, gothic tone. A wonderful read during spooky season!
I Who Have Never Known Men by Jacqueline Harpman
Rating: 4.5 stars
I Who Have Never Known Men is a bleak and harrowing exploration of what it means to be a human; what it means to be a woman. In an unknown place and during an unknown time, 39 women live imprisoned in a cage with no notion of time proper, surveilled by guards with whips, provided the same food day to day, and with only vague recollections of their lives before the cage. Then, they’re joined by their youngest prisoner.
Eerie from the get-go, our unnamed narrator takes us through the novel. She’s assumed the youngest of the 40 women and her detached, naïve voice builds a tender, resonant voice to tell their collective story. The story itself is full of silence, building quiet connections while the collective of women is totally detached from community, and from humanity. There’s some sparkling introspection and I loved the subtle interrogation that sings through each page of what it means to be a woman in a world without men. Without the rhythms of everyday mundanes, without partners, children, parents, without careers or jobs or hobbies, without clear memories… Who are we? What do we live for? What can we hope for? This is definitely a novel that leaves more space for thinking than it does for plot – a style I personally love – and it works really well in this dystopian setting. I only knocked a half-star off for a slight lack of cohesion towards the narrator’s education towards the latter part of the book.
The Wax Child by Olga Ravn (ARC)
Thanks Viking Books and NetGalley for my advanced reader copy!
Rating: 4 stars
Based on a real-life seventeenth century Danish witch trial, The Wax Child tells in vivid prose the story of Christenze Kruckow, a noblewoman long pursued by a scandal of sorcery. People whisper that in her wake one finds illness, death, and unsettling behaviour by pigs and cats. Some even say she once fashioned out of wax a child, an instrument of the most sinister magic. Christenze will flee the rumours to Aalborg, that great city of seawater and mist. But even there suspicion and fear rule, and once a rumour of witchcraft has taken hold, it can prove hard to shake…
Told in utterly beautiful, poetic prose, The Wax Child took me by surprise and I wasn’t expecting to enjoy it as much as I did. This was a brilliant lesson in stepping outside of my usual genres, since I am not much of a horror fan, but I am a huge fan of translated fiction and global stories. I also LOVE historical fiction, particularly since it borrows from real-life, which is precisely what The Wax Child does, telling the story of Christenze Kruckow and basing it upon a 17th century Danish witch trial. Ravn’s poetic writing style shines off the page here, bringing to life a curiously archaic voice of a child wrought of wax – a prime example of of the ‘most sinister magic’. It is childlike and unexpectedly sharp and precise at the same time, and I found no end to my favourite lines of this book! As Christenze flees rumours of her witchcraft and scandal, she arrives to Aalborg, a city of seawater, where she convenes with a community of women, rousing more rumours and suspicion.
The quiet naïveté of our narrator helps to explore themes of sexuality and felinity as Christenze joins the community of women that help one another cook, clean, sew, live. Does she wish to join these heteronormative conventions and chores? Is this adding to the pile-on that she is a witch? In turn, this ‘village’ is brought to life with the sort of repetitive prose that feels reminiscent of old folklore tales being told around a fire. And, upon finishing this book, a quick research session tells me this book is fairly grounded upon Nordic values, history and folklore. A really beautiful read that I’m sure I’ll pick up again next autumn.
The Wax Child publishes on 6 November 2025.
Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke
Rating: 5 stars
Friends, I finished the beast that is Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell after two months of lugging this 1000+ page tome around the place! And, I’m pleased to report that it was worth every page and every sentence. Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell is a mystical blend between classic fantasy, historical fiction, dark academia and a little something in-between, and I am entirely gobsmacked that this was Clarke’s debut. There’s something unmistakably Austen-esque about the prose – it’s witty and sarcastic and English and feels just perfect for the alternate England that Clarke is conjuring here. I found myself chuckling throughout the book, and her characters are at the heart of it all. They’re sparkling, perfectly brought to life and really move the story forwards. And, there’s even some hilarious appearances from Cabinet ministers of the time, that feel like they add something, rather than showing off how beautifully researched the novel is. I couldn’t fault Clarke for her gorgeous, immersive storytelling here, it’s compelling, utterly magical to read, fantastic, and it makes you want to savour an already-long book for longer. As a caveat, this one is another of those syrup-slow reads where often not a lot happens. There is plenty of plot to be rewarded with after deliciously descriptive passages and endless historical footnotes which, again, I loved but I fear many readers would find this off-putting.
The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches by Sangu Mandanna (reread)
Rating: 4 stars
I first read this book in July 2023 and I knew that I wanted to reread it during a cosy autumn spell, so that’s exactly what I did ahead of Halloween! And, I think I loved it even more the second time round! Mika Moon is one of few witches in England. In order to stay hidden from the general non-magic public, witches must live alone and that is exactly what Mika does… except she also creates videos online ‘pretending to be a witch’. Thankfully, YouTuber stardom isn’t the focus of this cosy, witchy, found-family story. The real magic begins when she is recruited to be a tutor to THREE young witches, thus commencing some seriously sweet and heart-warming found-family plot lines.
While the premise of this book is nothing groundbreaking, there is something seriously enjoyable about the magic devices Mandanna has created, the slow-burn romance plot, and reading about a clumsy witch in her thirties. This is a book that makes you smile each time you turn the page, and it’s just what I needed at this time of year.
You, Again by Megan Portorreal
Rating: 5 stars
I could be biased here, since Megan is one of my oldest Internet friends, but I completely loved immersing myself in her debut poetry book this October. You, Again is a beautiful, sentimental collection of poems and prose, carefully curated from the author’s once-private stack of 30 journals. It is raw, unflinching and intimate, transporting to vignettes from Megan’s life but, also, easily, your own as a reader. As a sentimental writer girl myself, I languished in the committed self-interrogation, the quietly familiar details, the searing heartache that is palpable through each poem and prose. While the collection is short, it feels perfectly edited and put-together, drawing a picture of somebody that has somehow always known and trusted that it’d come back to themselves in the end.
