It was International Women’s Day yesterday, an event I find both wonderful and slightly annoying, as I can’t help but worry that it’s being turned into another commercial occasion (I got too many emails today which basically said: “CELEBRATE WOMEN… BUY THIS”). So, as a kind of antithesis to that, here are five books by women that I’ve read and loved, which are decidedly not about wrapping feminism up in a pretty, consumer-friendly parcel with a bow on top. They’re also not, necessarily, books which present themselves as being “about” feminism. What they are is this: stories of women who have lived boldly and courageously, women who break the boundaries of what is expected of them, and women who have made me a better feminist.

In Extremis by Lindsey Hilsum

This is the poetic, witty and heart-breaking biography of journalist Marie Colvin. As a journalist myself (albeit a much more cautious one), I knew that this book might stir up feelings of my own inferiority, which it did, but above all it was utterly inspiring.

Written by close friend and fellow correspondent Lindsey Hilsum, the biography does initially present Colvin’s life through rose-tinted glasses: she’s full of bravado, surrounded by doting friends and constantly cracking jokes. Yet as it progresses, you get an insight into the rawer, rougher, uglier parts of her life. She comes to breaking point when suffering with PTSD, is a messy divorcee at times and a raging drunk at others. But she’s also consistently courageous, larger-than-life and self-sacrificing. If you need inspiration to live with more gusto, this is essential reading.

Eat Up by Ruby Tadoh

Ruby Tandoh had already piqued my interest as a Bake Off contestant, and later as a Guardian food columnist, so I was excited to read this. But the first few pages of this almost had me giving up – it felt pretentious, contrived and just a little annoying. I’m so glad I persevered, though, because what came after was incredibly fruitful.

Through the course of its 256 pages, Tandoh nosedives into some pretty potent topics: the snobbery around what we eat, unequal access to nutritious food, the pitfalls of the wellness movement and eating disorders. This might make for hard reading if it weren’t for the lightness that Tandoh injects into the book. For every sobering reflection on the social and economic divides that center around food, Tandoh will remind us of the simple joy of eating a crumpet oozing with butter on a cold Sunday afternoon.

Going back to feminism, this might not seem like the most obvious choice. And while it’s definitely not a book exclusively for women, it does serve as a reminder that food is a feminist issue. Tandoh urges us to eat boldly, adventurously and with a no-fucks-given attitude, drowning out the noise of wellness crazes and diet fads that are too often heaped upon us.

Bad Feminist by Roxane Gay

This book’s provocative title is supposed to allude to the fact that, as a reality TV-loving, questionable pop music-listening, pink-adoring woman, Roxane Gay is a “bad” feminist, although in my view, she’s one of the best.

Each essay fleshes out a particular area of popular culture, politics, or Gay’s personal experience. We’re taken on a bumpy ride between witty reflections on feminism and sobering stories of Gay’s own experiences with racism, sexism and abuse.

She’s quick to take down un-woke mainstream feminists, like in her ruthless critique of Caitlin Moran’s selective breed of feminism. In response to Moran’s criticism of women wearing burqas, Gay calls out her stance as “glaring” and “irrelevant”, saying, “We don’t get to decide for Muslim women what does or does not oppress them, no matter how highly we think of ourselves.” Bad Feminist is about striving for better intersectionality within the movement, speaking out against issues that rattle us, and being able to see the funny side of feminism. In reading it, I felt compelled to become a better feminist.

Becoming by Michelle Obama

You couldn’t have stepped into any bookshop over the past few months without seeing Michelle Obama’s memoir, and so I wasn’t too surprised to unwrap it at Christmas. Before reading it, I’d liked her a lot, but if I’m honest I’d boxed her into a certain president’s-wife-image. Having now read it, I realise how wrong that judgement was.

I know that autobiographies are meant to make people look good, but Obama’s story of growing up in a small apartment in South Side Chicago, working hard at school, propelling herself to an Ivy League university and landing a high-flying career in law pretty much sounds like the American Dream on steroids.

But it’s the intricacies of Obama’s thoughts, feelings and decisions which make this a feminist book for me. She quits her law career to work for community organisations, helping the less well-off get better access to healthcare. She falls for a headstrong young man who turns her life upside down – and tells of the pain and discomfort with which ultimately has to sacrifice her career to help him with campaigning. She deals with unspeakable racism and sexism, yet manages to guard herself off from it.

Obama is by no means the perfect feminist, but I found this book incredibly insightful, at times relatable and at other times eye-opening. It’s a must-read for anyone wanting to learn more about race, class and gender in America.

The Guilty Feminist by Deborah Frances-White

I love this woman. Ever since I began listening to her podcast while half marathon training (and baffling a few passers-by with my fits of giggles), I’ve been absolutely hooked. So when her book came out, naturally, I was very excited.

The idea behind “guilty feminism”, for anyone who’s unacquainted, is for feminists to confess that they sometimes act in un-feminist ways. Each episode of the podcast which inspired this book begin with confessions: “I’m a feminist but…”. One of my favourites was Frances-White’s confession about once accidentally missing a women’s march, because she got distracted in a department store. It’s exactly the kind of light-hearted wit that feminism needs.

As with the hit podcast, the best thing about this book is its humour. Comic Frances-White’s scathing critiques of the patriarchy are the strings that run through the prose, tying together her observations about oppressive structures in many spheres of life. Funny as she is, it’d be easy for Frances-White’s voice to dominate the narrative – yet she’s committed to intersectionality, and makes sure to weave in interviews with people of colour and LGBTQ people.

For anyone looking for accessible and uplifting way of engaging with feminism, this is the book for you.

We’re 41 days into 2019 so it’s probably a little late for me to be banging on about my new year’s resolutions (yawn!), but hear me out.

This year, like almost every year for the past few years, I made the resolution to read more. Yet unlike every other year so far I’ve actually, surprisingly, kept to it – and I’ve exceeded my expectations.

I make this resolution year on year because I know how much I appreciate the power of a good story once I make the space, time and energy to read. More and more, the world is becoming a stress-filled, fast-paced, busy place, and reading feels like the perfect antidote to that.

Yet despite my best efforts, it’s far easier get home from a long day and be drawn to the easy, cosy world of Netflix than the slow-burning satisfaction of a paperback. And so out go the good intentions and back come the excuses (“oh, I’m just too busy to read!”). But this year, it seems I’m actually sticking to my resolution.

In part, this is thanks to the enormous amount of books I was lucky enough to receive at Christmas (ten!); it’s also thanks to my new and longer commute to work. And while setting off on a 40-minute bus ride at 7.15 every morning might not sound like something to be happy about, it’s done wonders for my reading habit.

Thanks to my journey between South and North London and rush-hour traffic, I’ve been getting through a book a week – which is probably more than I was reading at times during my English Lit degree. So that inspired me to add an extra element to my New Year’s resolution.

As you might have guessed from the title of this post, I’m aiming to read a book each week for the whole year. Of course, there might be weeks that this isn’t possible – but even if I only manage every other week, that’ll be 26 books read this year, which is pretty good going in my view.

I’m hoping to share my thoughts about the things I’ve read, how they’ve made me feel, and reflections on my reading journey as a whole. I’ll aim to cover contemporary fiction, bestsellers, lesser-known stuff and some non-fiction books, so there’ll be a bit of an eclectic mix. Anyway, for the time being, watch this space…