My Top 10 Books of 2023

Following my 2023 reading statistics post, I’m back with part two of my 2023 wrap-up content – which means it’s time to gush about all the best books I read in the past year.

Narrowing down a top 10 is a tricky enough task, never mind trying to rank the 10 books in question – so as always, I’m just listing them in chronological order of when I read them.

Miss Austen by Gill Hornby

This is a novel for all Jane Austen fans who have ever wondered why Cassandra Austen burned most of her sister’s correspondence.

Gill Hornby’s proposed answer may only be fiction – but it made for a very satisfying read. I loved Hornby’s portrayal of Cassandra, and felt that she also captured Jane Austen’s spirit as she recreated imaginary versions of some of the destroyed letters.

Even if you’re not a huge Austen fan, there’s lots of interesting commentary about women’s struggles in early 19th century England.

Read my full review of Miss Austen here.

Ayesha at Last by Uzma Jalaluddin

Ayesha at Last is, in my opinion, everything that makes a great contemporary Jane Austen retelling. All the key Pride and Prejudice plot points are recognisable, but it’s strong enough in its own merit that I think it could be enjoyed by someone who’s never read Pride and Prejudice.

It was so great to read a Jane Austen retelling featuring an almost entire cast of Muslim characters. I loved Jalaluddin’s writing so much that I read all three of her published works in 2023 (the most recent of which is a Persuasion retelling).

Beautiful World, Where Are You by Sally Rooney

Sally Rooney’s writing just has a way of getting to me. After adoring Normal People in 2019, I was slightly scared to read her latest release – but I should never have doubted, because I adored this book too.

If you want to have an existential crisis about the state of the world then somehow have your heart stitched back together again within the span of a few hundred pages, then this is the book for you.

Oh, also you’ve got to be okay with really unlikable characters. Like, really unlikable.

The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro

Read this book, and you will never be able to see Carson in Downton Abbey the same way again.

In all seriousness, this is a beautiful, subtle and lyrical meditation on class, loyalty and life choices. There really is very limited plot here – this book is all about the main character Stevens, the aging butler of Darlington Hall, who was so vividly portrayed that I felt as if I personally knew him by the end of the novel.

Apparently I was in a bit of an existential crisis era around this point in the year – because The Remains of the Day will definitely give you one too.

The Other Bennet Sister by Janice Hadlow

This doorstop of a novel is devoted entirely to the life of Mary Bennet – you know, the dull, prosy Bennet sister who pops up every so often in Pride and Prejudice to echo Fordyce’s Sermons.

Who would want to read that?! Well, me, apparently – with some trepidation. But oh boy, this book! Mary is still recognisable as the character we all love to hate – but thanks to Hadlow’s magic, by the end of the book I had come to care deeply for Mary, and was rooting wholeheartedly for her happiness.

Read my full review of The Other Bennet Sister here.

Half a Soul by Olivia Atwater

This book had me at the tagline A Regency Faerie Tale. Grumpy magicians and faerie curses crossed with a Regency-inspired setting is, in my opinion, a match made in heaven.

Throw in great characters, humorous writing and a swoony romance, and you have pretty much all of my top ingredients for a great read.

If you’re looking for a light-hearted fantasy read with some 19th century ballroom drama thrown in for good measure, then I can wholeheartedly recommend Half a Soul.

Virtual Strangers by Sam Canning

I tend to find these days that a lot of books marketed as fluffy rom-coms end up being pretty heavy – but to my delight, Virtual Strangers contained plenty of both rom and com.

It features a You’ve Got Mail-type scenario (which is apparently a trope I love despite never having seen that film), focusing on a hotdesking situation at a café in Edinburgh. I’ve never visited Edinburgh, but all the descriptions made me want to visit – and the writing felt comfortingly British in the best way (think GBBO, but without the baking).

The Whalebone Theatre by Joanna Quinn

The Whalebone Theatre is the epitome of an English country house novel, in that the house itself is definitely a main character.

Joanna Quinn’s debut is an interesting mix of family saga, adventure novel and lyrical WWII drama, which is a combination that really worked for me.

I loved getting to know the three Seagrave siblings as they came of age in their crumbling Dorset manor, and I was sad to leave them behind after turning the final page.

Read my full review of The Whalebone Theatre here.

Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo

I finally got around to reading the Six of Crows duology in 2023, after years of putting it off for fear it wouldn’t live up to the frankly insane hype.

In conclusion, the hype was fully justified. I don’t know how Leigh Bardugo did it, but over the course of the two books these lovable, messy characters wormed their way right into my heart.

I did enjoy the first book, but the tension really cranked up a notch in this final instalment, and I was on the edge of my seat the entire time.

Madensky Square by Eva Ibbotson

Madensky Square is an epistolary novel in diary format, following a year in 36-year-old dressmaker Susanna Weber’s life in Vienna.

It might be a case of ‘right book, right time’, as I read it whilst on holiday in Vienna, but I think this might actually be my favourite of all Ibbotson’s historical novels.

This is a quiet, slice-of-life novel that oozes charm and elegance in Ibbotson’s trademark fashion – but it also had more depth and complexity than her historical romances, which I definitely appreciated.

Sepia Tinted Window 2023 Reading Stats

We’re almost at the end of another year – and I don’t know about you, but one of my favourite things about the end of the year is reading and watching bookish creators’ end-of-year reading statistics!

I used to track my reading on Goodreads, but for the past few years I’ve been using an Excel spreadsheet, because I’m a big old nerd. At the end of each year I create some charts for stats like my genre and format breakdown, which I normally do just for myself – but as it’s my first year back on the blog after my break, I thought this year it would be fun to create an infographic and share the stats with you.

So without further ado, here are my reading statistics for 2023!

Thank you to everyone who has visited Sepia Tinted Window this year. I appreciate you stopping by my little corner of the internet, and I’m looking forward to 2024 on the blog. I’ll be kicking off with my top 10 books of 2023 post, so look out for that soon!

Review: The Other Bennet Sister by Janice Hadlow

Title: The Other Bennet Sister

Author: Janice Hadlow

Published: 9^th January 2020

Pages: 672

Setting: Regency England

When I first heard about a Pride and Prejudice retelling placing the least-liked Bennet sister at its centre, I was sceptical. When I realised that Janice Hadlow had devoted almost 700 whole pages to Mary Bennet, continuing beyond the events of Pride and Prejudice to give her a romance of her own, I was certain I’d be bored to tears.

Then I saw all the glowing reviews from readers who found themselves emotionally moved by Mary’s story, fully investing themselves in Hadlow’s efforts to let her character shine. I decided that Hadlow must have strayed from Austen’s characterisation – because I simply couldn’t believe that there was enough depth to the dull, preachy Mary of Pride and Prejudice to keep me gripped for over 600 pages.

Having found myself devouring several other Austen retellings this year, however, I finally ended up giving The Other Bennet Sister a try – and how very glad I am that I did!

I understand now why Mary’s story is so lengthy. Hadlow knew what she was doing. She looked deep into the psyche of Austen’s Mary, asking pointed questions about how and why she grew into the stuffy young woman we see in Pride and Prejudice. She offered a plausible internal monologue for Mary to accompany the events of Pride and Prejudice, rounding out the character in a way which (in my opinion) stayed true to Austen’s version.

By the end of the Pride and Prejudice retelling portion, I felt I understood Mary a little better, but I still didn’t like her. Yet by the end of The Other Bennet Sister, I found that I had come to care deeply for this character. The transformation was subtle and gradual – and, I think, only possible because Hadlow really gave time for Mary’s character to develop and blossom in a way that felt natural.

I personally found Mary’s story gripping in its own rights – but for Austen devotees, there is plenty to enjoy in the way of frequent nods to her novels. I read somewhere that Hadlow reread all six of Austen’s novels before writing The Other Bennet Sister, and the result is a story that will feel simultaneously fresh and familiar to Austen fans.

All in all, I think The Other Bennet Sister is a wonderful tribute to perhaps one of the most overlooked characters in Austen’s novels. I can only hope that Hadlow decides to write another novel – and if it’s another Jane Austen retelling, all the better, because it seems I just can’t get enough of them right now.

What to read after All the Light We Cannot See

The release of the All the Light We Cannot See miniseries on Netflix earlier this week has inevitably got everyone talking about Anthony Doerr’s bestselling 2015 book again. It may have been six years since I read it, but it’s definitely a book that left a lasting impression on me – and while I haven’t watched the miniseries yet, I can well remember the giant reading slump I was left in once I came to the end of the book.

To help anyone who’s facing a similar slump (either from reading the book or watching the miniseries), I’ve compiled a list of recommended reads that I think are in some way similar to All the Light We Cannot See. I’ve got a mix of settings and themes, so hopefully there’ll be something that takes your fancy.

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

Title: The Book Thief

Author: Markus Zusak

Published: 1st March 2005

Pages: 499

Setting: WWII Germany

Alright, let’s begin with the most obvious recommendation. If you enjoyed All the Light We Cannot See but somehow haven’t yet encountered The Book Thief, you should definitely give it a try. Both books have children as the main protagonists, and both deal with their subject matter in a very human way.

This book is set in Nazi Germany rather than in France, but as with All the Light We Cannot See, it covers themes of propaganda as young Liesel discovers the power of the written word. The fact that it’s narrated by Death adds a poignant, haunting quality to the story, which I think is also present in Doerr’s writing.

People Like Us by Louise Fein

Title: People Like Us

Author: Louise Fein

Published: 7th May 2020

Pages: 496

Setting: 1930s Leipzig

Next up is another recommendation set in Germany – this time 1930s Leipzig, which Louise Fein describes beautifully. Similarly to All the Light We Cannot See, the two protagonists of People Like Us find themselves on opposite sides of the growing conflict as Hitler comes to power.

Hetty Heinrich, an SS officer’s daughter, is determined to be a model Bund Deutscher Mädel (League of German Girls) member – but her loyalties are called into question as she witnesses former family friend Walter’s ostracization from society due to his Jewish heritage.

I recommend this for people who were particularly moved by Werner’s experience of Nazi indoctrination in All the Light We Cannot See.

The Whalebone Theatre by Joanna Quinn

Title: The Whalebone Theatre

Author: Joanna Quinn

Published: 9th June 2022

Pages: 560

Setting: 1919-1945 England

This is a recommendation for the people who enjoyed All the Light We Cannot See for its short chapters and lyrical writing style – because The Whalebone Theatre has both. It’s also a sweeping epic, covering the childhoods of its protagonists up to their coming of age during WWII.

If you loved the courage and resourcefulness of Marie-Laure, then I think you will really root for Cristabel Seagrave, the main character of The Whalebone Theatre. In both books plenty of time is taken to flesh out the characters and make you care deeply for them – yet thanks to the short chapters, it’s easy to find yourself tearing through the pages as the plot unfolds.

My full review of The Whalebone Theatre can be found here.

The Other Einstein by Marie Benedict

Title: The Other Einstein

Author: Marie Benedict

Published: 18th October 2016

Pages: 304

Setting: Early 20th century Switzerland

If you enjoyed reading about the scientific and technical elements of Werner’s studies in All the Light We Cannot See, I recommend giving The Other Einstein a try. Here we follow Mileva Marić, the gifted Serbian physicist and mathematician who married Albert Einstein in 1903.

As a physicist, I really appreciated the wealth of research Marie Benedict carried out in order to tell the story of Mileva’s education at Zurich Polytechnic at the turn of the 20^th century. For those who enjoy reading about the history of science (and particularly women in STEM), this is a fascinating read.

The Cut Out Girl by Bart van Es

Title: The Cut Out Girl

Author: Bart van Es

Published: 15th July 2018

Pages: 288

Setting: WWII Netherlands

Marie-Laure and Werner may not be real people – but there are plenty of true stories from WWII that are just as gripping and heartbreaking as any fictional tale. For my final pick, I wanted to go with a bit of a wildcard and recommend the biography The Cut Out Girl.

Similarly to All the Light We Cannot See, in The Cut Out Girl we have a growing connection between two people based in different physical locations. In this case it’s the author and his estranged relative Lien – who, as Bart van Es discovers, became the foster daughter of his grandparents when she was given up by her birth family to escape the Nazis’ persecution of Jews in Amsterdam.

While the main portion of the book covers Lien’s enthralling and often harrowing wartime experiences, I was equally interested to read about the developing friendship between van Es and Lien as she gradually shared her story.

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Hopefully you’ve found something here to fill the All the Light We Cannot See-shaped hole in your life! Let me know if you’ve read any of these books, and feel free to add a comment with your own recommendations.

Review: The Wisteria Society of Lady Scoundrels by India Holton

Title: The Wisteria Society of Lady Scoundrels (Dangerous Damsels #1)

Author: India Holton

Published: 15^th June 2021

Pages: 324

Setting: Fantastical version of Victorian Britain

How does the phrase ‘Terry Pratchett crossed with Bridgerton’ sound to you?

If reading that makes you shudder, you might want to give this post a miss. Because if you’re to have any chance of enjoying the crazy reading experience that is The Wisteria Society of Lady Scoundrels, you must be prepared for nothing short of utterly bonkers.

I’m talking Victorian lady pirates. A genteel society of lady pirates, who spend a solid morning flying their mansions around to steal and fight, before sitting down to an afternoon of tea and gossip.

There’s also a villainous poet with a Branwell Brontë obsession, plenty of assassination attempts, and a starring role for Queen Victoria herself (who is portrayed hilariously, I must say). Getting the gist yet?

In all seriousness, though, this book is bonkers in the best way. It’s the perfect blend of Terry Pratchett’s absurdist humour and all the typical 19^th century courtship elements you’d expect from a good historical romance novel. Yes, you will probably find yourself swooning, gasping and giggling in such rapid succession that you end up with whiplash – but if you’re looking for engrossing escapism, this is definitely it.

So what is the actual plot of this book?

Well, we’re essentially following one Miss Cecilia Bassingwaite’s journey towards acceptance as a full member of the Wisteria society. Raised by her formidable Aunt Darlington, a prominent member of the society, Cecilia has constantly struggled to prove herself as a pirate worthy of membership. When Cecilia becomes the target of an assassination attempt, then, it seems like the perfect opportunity to show her mettle – but this particular assassination attempt isn’t as simple as it might first seem.

One such complication is the would-be assassin: one handsome, roguish Ned Lightbourne, whose distinctly non-murderous feelings towards Cecilia quickly pose a challenge to the success of his mission. Another complication lies in the form of Ned’s employer Captain Morvath, a dangerous man from Cecilia’s past with the power to single-handedly thwart any hope of Cecilia’s acceptance into the Wisteria society.

I won’t say too much more, as I think this is a book it’s best to go into without knowing too much beforehand. What I will say, though, is that listening to the audiobook was a delightful experience. It’s read by Elizabeth Knowelden, whose tongue-in-cheek tone and comic timing really helped bring this magical world to life. If you’re a fan of audiobooks, I can definitely recommend listening to this one.

So there we have it. Gentlewomen pirates with flying houses in a Victorian Britain-inspired setting. Bonkers both in premise and execution. And yet somehow, for me, it worked.

Review: The Whalebone Theatre by Joanna Quinn

Title: The Whalebone Theatre

Author: Joanna Quinn

Published: 9^th June 2022

Pages: 560

Setting: 1919-1945 England

It’s hard to really know where to begin this review, because I feel like The Whalebone Theatre somehow manages to be about three different books in one, and yet still holds together as a single, coherent narrative.

A coming-of-age tale set largely at a crumbling Dorset country house from 1919-1945, this novel succeeds in capturing the magical atmosphere of a children’s classic like Ballet Shoes or I Capture the Castle, creating evocative descriptions of setting reminiscent of Rebecca, and weaving a gripping yet lyrical WWII story in the vein of All the Light We Cannot See. Oh, and if that’s not enough, there’s also, of course, the titular theatre constructed from the bones of a whale that washes up on the nearby beach.

At the heart of the story are the three unconventional Seagrave siblings who experience the highs and lows of growing up with minimal adult supervision in their family’s ancient English manor. Though the novel is somewhat of a ‘family saga’ following a number of characters connected with the house, the clear main characters are Cristabel Seagrave (the eldest child) and the house itself.

On the very first page of the novel we’re introduced to Cristabel as a feisty three-year-old playing with a stick as she awaits the arrival of her new stepmother. From the first couple of paragraphs, I got the sense Cristabel was a character who would find her way into my heart – and as I followed Cristabel on her unique journey towards womanhood, she did just that. Quinn has created a believable, complex female character that you can’t help but root for; Cristabel’s struggles against the restrictions imposed upon women feel both relatable to today and appropriate for the time period.

The other main character, then, is the house of Chilcombe and its unusual theatre. While the siblings’ adult lives often take them away from the house, it remains a constant presence in the narrative, and a focal point around which the various characters’ stories unfold. Before reading The Whalebone Theatre, I read an interesting blog post in which Quinn discusses the English country house as a globally recognisable ‘character’ in literature, and she definitely uses it to great effect here.

I don’t want to say too much more, because I think The Whalebone Theatre is a novel to get lost in without too many preconceptions. It’s difficult to pinpoint exactly why, but I just get the sense that Joanna Quinn truly loved the process of writing this book – and the result is a captivating reading experience which I thoroughly enjoyed.

A Guide to Eva Ibbotson’s Historical Romances

It is with a heavy heart that I have just turned the final page of Magic Flutes by Eva Ibbotson. This heaviness has nothing at all to do with the contents of the book – it is simply a result of the unavoidable fact that I have now read all 5 of Eva Ibbotson’s historical romances, and will never again experience the utter joy of reading one of them for the first time.

I first discovered Eva Ibbotson by way of Booktuber Lucy Powrie (lucythereader) during the first months of the pandemic in 2020. Longtime readers of this blog will know that I am a big fan of Lucy’s channel, and have found several new beloved classics and historical fiction novels thanks to her recommendations. When I heard her talk about Eva Ibbotson’s romantic, culturally rich and comforting historical fiction books, then, I knew I had to give them a try. And so, over the past three years, I’ve had the pleasure of discovering the wonder of these novels for myself.

^{The video that started my journey with Eva Ibbotson’s writing!}

Eva Ibbotson is most widely known as a children’s author – in particular, perhaps, for the novel Journey to the River Sea, which won the Nestle Smarties Book Prize in the UK in 2001. In this post, though, I want to discuss her historical romances for adults, which were published in the 1980s and 1990s. The five novels in question are: The Secret Countess (1981), Magic Flutes (1982), A Company of Swans (1985), The Morning Gift (1993) and A Song for Summer (1997) (there’s technically also her short story collection A Glove Shop in Vienna and the novel Madensky Square, but these both have quite different vibes, so I’m sticking to the romances here).

With settings ranging from WWII Britain to 1910s South America, these books seem at first glance to be vastly different – but they each have several core elements in common, the most prominent of which is classical music. Ibbotson was born in Vienna in 1925, where she lived until she and her family were forced to flee to England in 1933 to escape the Nazis’ persecution of Jewish people. Although she only lived a short while in Vienna, it’s clear that the city’s love for music had already permeated her soul by the time she left. Ballet and opera are central to the plot in a couple of the novels – but even when classical music isn’t taking centre stage, the prose is peppered with musical references in which Ibbotson’s clear love of the art form shines through.

Another common element between the books is the romantic relationships themselves. The heroes are always very handsome and strong, and the heroines very beautiful and good (verging on the angelic at some points), while the baddies are often laughably extreme cartoon villains. There’s never any doubt that the villains will be vanquished just in time for the hero and heroine’s happily-ever-after – but that’s exactly why I love these books. Ibbotson’s prose has a familiar, fairytale-like quality, with long, elegant sentences that wrap themselves around you in a comforting embrace. Sometimes you just need to know that everything will work out okay in the end – and few authors pull that off with more style and wit than Ibbotson.

By now you will hopefully have an idea of whether Ibbotson’s historical romances might be something you’re interested in. But if you do decide to pick one of them up, where should you begin?

As these novels are all standalones, there’s no one best reading order – but I’m going to give a brief overview of each of the novels which might provide you with some idea of which one appeals to you the most.

The Secret Countess

Setting: 1910s Russia and England

Published: 10th May 1981

Pages: 368

Recommended for fans of: A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett

1 sentence summary: Penniless Russian countess Anna Grazinsky flees her home country after the revolution and finds work as a housemaid at an English country manor, where she struggles to hide her identity from her new employer, the handsome young Earl of Westerholme.

Magic Flutes

Setting: 1920s Austria

Published: 1st January 1982

Pages: 384

Recommended for fans of: I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith

1 sentence summary: Tessa (otherwise known as the Princess of Pfaffenstein) juggles her secret job as a wardrobe mistress at a Vienna opera company with the complications of her family’s recent descent into poverty (including the sale of her crumbling castle to English foundling-turned-millionaire Guy Farne).

A Company of Swans

Setting: 1910s Cambridge/South America

Published: 1st July 1985

Pages: 416

Recommended for fans of: Ballet Shoes by Noel Streatfeild

1 sentence summary: Bored with life in Cambridge, Harriet Morton runs away with a ballet troupe on a tour of the Amazon, where she finds excitement, adventure – and possibly love, in the form of mysterious, music-loving British exile Rom Verney.

The Morning Gift

Setting: 1930s Vienna/WWII England

Published: 1st January 1993

Pages: 528

Recommended for fans of: Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë

1 sentence summary: Palaeontology professor Quin Somerville offers Ruth Berger a secret marriage of convenience to help her escape the Nazis’ persecution of Jews in Vienna – but the secret becomes rather more difficult to keep when Ruth enrols as a student on his course at Thameside University.

A Song for Summer

Setting: 1930s London/Austrian Alps

Published: 7th September 1997

Pages: 448

Recommended for fans of: The Sound of Music

1 sentence summary: Ellen Carr horrifies her suffragette aunts when she leaves London to work as a housekeeper at Hallendorf, an experimental school in the Austrian Alps featuring wild children, unconventional teachers, and a handsome, brooding gardener called Marek Tarnowsky.

Review: The Bird in the Bamboo Cage by Hazel Gaynor

Title: The Bird in the Bamboo Cage

Author: Hazel Gaynor

Published: 20^th August 2020

Pages: 384

Setting: WWII China

I want to begin this review by saying that I listened to The Bird in the Bamboo Cage on audiobook – and if you’re someone who enjoys listening to audiobooks, I would definitely recommend reading this book in audio format. Having listened to the phenomenal performances given by both narrators (Imogen Church and Rosie Jones), I couldn’t imagine experiencing the story any other way.

The Bird in the Bamboo Cage is a quiet, compelling character study about human endurance and hope in the bleakest of circumstances. It’s a WWII story with a different angle to the usual Western-centric take on the conflict, as it’s set at a missionary school in Yantai (formerly known as Chefoo), China. The protagonists are Elspeth Kent, a British teacher at the school, and Nancy Plummer, a ten-year-old British pupil.

It’s difficult to describe much of the plot, as this is very much a character-driven novel – but at its core, The Bird in the Bamboo Cage is about the effects of the Japanese occupation of China on the inhabitants of the missionary school. With the children’s parents away, and their extended families scattered across the globe, the teachers are the sole familiar adult figures in the children’s lives – and through Elspeth’s voice Hazel Gaynor masterfully explores the sometimes overwhelming sense of responsibility these teachers face as they become not only teachers, but also surrogate parents to these children in the most difficult of circumstances.

A key theme running through this novel is the Girl Guiding movement. Nancy and her friends belong to a Brownies group at the school, and at the beginning of the story they are excited to be transitioning up to Guides. When the occupation begins, their Guides meetings shift from a fun way to socialise and learn skills to a lifeline of normality and focus amid ever-increasing chaos, not just for the pupils but also the teachers running the meetings. Snippets of the Guides handbook are quoted throughout the book, and it’s fascinating to see how Hazel Gaynor cleverly weaves elements of these quotes into the narrative.

This novel definitely goes to some dark and emotional places, and there are a couple of utterly heartbreaking moments – but at its heart it is a story about togetherness, and community, and people supporting each other through incredible hardship. Although it’s not action-packed, I found myself completely gripped by Elspeth and Nancy’s stories, and often caught myself thinking about the characters even when I wasn’t actively listening to the book.

I would wholeheartedly recommend The Bird in the Bamboo Cage for fans of WWII historical fiction looking for a slightly different angle on the conflict. Hazel Gaynor is quickly becoming a firm favourite historical fiction author of mine, and I look forward to my next read of hers.

From Cover Changes to Director’s Cuts: Exploring the Phenomenon of Book Re-releases

Over the past few years, I’ve noticed an increasing trend in the publishing industry of re-releasing existing books in a myriad of new editions. While I am someone who has bought special or collector’s editions of some books, I also have some concerns and frustrations about the growing number of re-releases being churned out, which I want to share with you today.

Cover Changes – An Important Marketing Strategy

The rebranding and redesigning of book covers to reflect shifting marketing trends is hardly a new strategy in publishing. It makes sense to keep up with cover design trends, as the right cover can ensure that a book has the best chance of appealing to its target audience.

Take Georgette Heyer’s books, for example. My copy of The Reluctant Widow is the 2004 design, which, like all of these editions, features a painting as the main image. The newer editions, however, which have been published over the last few years, feature a more photorealistic cover design, which I can only imagine has been done to match the similar redesign of the Bridgerton books by Julia Quinn.

The Reluctant widow – 2004 edition

The Reluctant Widow – new edition

Example of the new Bridgerton covers

This switch to a more photorealistic cover image, along with the new “Perfect for fans of Bridgerton!” tag line on the Heyer covers, is a good example of the publishers capitalising on the immense success of the Bridgerton Netflix series and looking to introduce some new, possibly younger readers to Heyer’s work.

I’m not, therefore, opposed to cover redesigns per se. What I want to talk about today is the frankly astounding number of special editions I’ve noticed being published for all sorts of anniversaries of popular books’ releases, which I think probably began with the release of the 20^th anniversary Hogwarts house editions of the Harry Potter books.

The Harry Potter House Edition Hype

I will fully admit to buying into the hype when the Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone 20^th anniversary editions were released in 2017. The only copies of the Harry Potter books I owned were my original copies that I read as a child, which have subsequently been passed around so many people (and read by me more times than I can count!) that they are rather falling apart. So the prospect of owning a beautiful, matching set of hardbacks in my Hogwarts house colours (Slytherin, in case you were wondering) was definitely an exciting one, and I looked forward to the trip to the bookshop each year to pick up the latest in the series.

Then, of course, the pandemic hit, so I didn’t visit bookshops in person for a while. And, call me shallow, but if I’m collecting a special edition of a book, I want to go to the shop and physically choose a copy, because I’ve been burned too many times by ordering books online only for them to turn up battered or bent. So when I returned to book shopping in person after the pandemic, I was very excited to pick up the next couple of Slytherin house editions – only to find that, not only had the entire series of special editions been released during the pandemic, but they were no longer available to buy!

I know that ‘limited edition’ obviously means a book won’t be around forever, but I was quite shocked by how briefly those editions were available. The only way of completing my collection now would be to buy Bloomsbury’s entire box set of the books, which would be a complete waste since I already own the first four. And that’s my main issue with this trend, to be honest – the sheer speed at which these editions are being brought out and then disappearing from the shelves, which I feel is likely to lead to overconsumption driven by the fear of missing out.

The Growing Anniversary Edition Trend

Since the Harry Potter house editions, I’ve noticed popular authors from Cassandra Clare to Madeline Miller getting anniversary editions of their books – but the one I particularly want to discuss is the new 10^th anniversary edition of The Bone Season by Samantha Shannon, which is due to be published next month.

The Bone Season is an ongoing YA fantasy series I’ve had on my radar for a while. I prefer to start fantasy and sci-fi series when they’re completed, so I’ve been holding off starting it for the time being. I do plan to read the series someday, though, so this new edition of the first book caught my eye – but I was very surprised to see that it includes not only bonus material, but also rewritten sections, described on the Waterstones site as a ‘Director’s Cut’.

Is this, apparently, a thing that happens now? Are we entering an era in which authors bring out rewritten versions of previous books in a series before the complete series has been written and published? I would love to know other people’s opinions on this – because to me that seems completely wild.

My first issue is that it’s just straight-up confusing. For new readers to the series, like me, which version do I now start with? The obvious choice is the new one, because it’s been rewritten, so that version, you would think, is objectively ‘better’ – but then I’ll have a different reading experience to all the people who read the original version. So do I buy both, in order to compare the two? That, I’m sure, is what the publishers will be hoping for – because at the end of the day, this is all about money for them.

And I get that. As I touched on earlier, I fully understand that publishing is, at the end of the day, a business, where making a profit is the ultimate aim. When we’re talking about the business of art, though, such obvious money-grabbing tactics leave a sour taste in my mouth. Because while these popular authors are getting the opportunity to have even more money invested in their already-published works, that money won’t be getting invested in taking a chance on new, undiscovered authors.

There is an argument, of course, that the undoubtedly huge profits all these special editions are generating might well mean that publishers actually have more money to invest in new authors – but the cynical part of me feels like that’s only likely to be the case for a select lucky few. It’s just as likely that publishing houses will realise they can make more money with less work by constantly pumping out these special editions of old books, making it even more difficult for new authors to get their break.

Cause for Concern?

Yes, publishing is a money-making business. No, I don’t think that special or collector’s editions of books are inherently a bad thing. But I am concerned that the increased number of special editions, and their rapid turnover rate in bookshops, will lead to impulse-driven overconsumption in a time where it is vital to be collectively thinking about consuming less. Not only this, but there is the real risk of creative stagnation if we are constantly being sold repackaged versions of the same old stories, instead of all those exciting new ideas and stories out there which are just waiting for the chance to be shared.

I’m not at all speaking from a ‘holier than thou’ place of telling other people that they shouldn’t buy special editions of books they love, not least because that would be very hypocritical of me! This post is not written with a view of ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ – it is simply my personal musings on a trend I have noticed in book publishing recently.

What are your thoughts on this growing trend? Do you share my view that it is a growing trend? I would love to hear your opinions, so do feel free to share them by leaving a comment below.

Review: Miss Austen by Gill Hornby

Title: Miss Austen

Author: Gill Hornby

Published: 23rd January 2020

Pages: 400

Setting: 18th/19th century England

It’s always exciting to find a new favourite author – and I was delighted to begin 2023 with the discovery of Gill Hornby as a new favourite historical fiction author of mine. Having read and enjoyed her latest release, Godmersham Park, I immediately picked up Miss Austen, in which Hornby tackles the question that has stumped Jane Austen fans for almost two centuries: Why did Cassandra Austen decide to destroy the majority of her sister’s written correspondence?

Miss Austen is a dual-timeline novel, straddling the 18^th and 19^th centuries. The main timeline is set in the village of Kintbury in 1840, where Cassandra Austen is visiting Isabella Fowle, the daughter of an old family friend, in the hopes of recovering some of Jane Austen’s correspondence which she believes may be stored somewhere in the house. The other timeline provides snapshots of various moments over the course of Cassandra and Jane’s lives, up to Jane’s death in July 1817.

I am certainly no expert on Jane Austen’s life – but from what I do know, it seems to me that Hornby’s imagined version of events succeeds in filling some of the most intriguing blanks whilst fitting neatly around the established facts. Writing about a real historical figure – especially one so famous as Jane Austen – certainly poses a significant challenge, but I feel that Hornby pulls it off with ease. The imagined letters included in the novel really capture the essence of the great writer herself, and the entire narrative is infused with a gloriously Austen-esque feel.

The most interesting aspect of this novel for me is Hornby’s imagining of the complex relationships between Cassandra and the women of the Fowle family. Whilst Jane Austen has the advantage of being remembered for her literary accomplishments, these other women are only included in the history books by nature of their association with Jane. It’s refreshing to see them imagined as real, flawed individuals, and through their stories Hornby explores some of the challenges faced by women in the early 19^th century.

Overall, Miss Austen is a moving, character-driven novel which reads as a wonderful tribute to both Jane Austen and, of course, her beloved sister Cassandra. I would thoroughly recommend it for any Jane Austen fan, along with Godmersham Park, in which Hornby turns her attention to Jane Austen’s friendship with Anne Sharp, who worked as governess to one of Jane’s nieces. I really hope Gill Hornby decides to write another novel set in her Jane Austen ‘universe’ – and if she does, I’ll certainly be picking it up as soon as it’s released.