Everything I Read in March

On only reading two books...

So, as you may know, March was a whirlwind. Between moving flats, sitting an exam, and my usual 9-5, reading ended up at the bottom of my to-do list. But I did manage two books—two solid ones that carried me through the chaos. And now, March is finally over.

Before I dive into the books (which is probably why you’re here), here’s a little life update.

I successfully moved into my new place—technically a one-bedroom house. And honestly? It’s perfect. At first, I thought it was too small, but I put in an application anyway because the rental market is brutal, and you’ve got to take your chances. My mindset lately has been: if it’s meant to be, it’ll happen. And it did. Now that we’re here, it just feels right. I haven’t felt this happy and free in a long time—two years, to be exact.

My commute has shrunk from an hour each way to just ten minutes. I’m no longer surrounded by decay and mold. There’s enough storage, so I don’t have to see my partner’s clutter everywhere. The moment I moved in, I didn’t even need to adjust—it already felt like home.

Then there was my exam. Revision took a backseat. I didn’t study at all the week before because I was constantly packing, moving, unpacking. By the time I got home from work, I was exhausted—so exhausted I couldn’t even lift myself out of bed and stop scrolling (and I’m not even much of a scroller). In the end, I crammed for a couple of nights, left it to fate, and manifested my way through it—with the help of IVE, who I truly believe keep my life on track. And somehow, I passed! Work is already bringing up the next exam, but I’m not touching another one until at least the end of the year. I want to enjoy my summer.

With those two milestones done, I thought life would finally settle down. But the next day, work called an emergency meeting. It didn’t feel good. Having been laid off by them less than a year ago, I never feel secure in situations like this. And I was right to worry. They announced a wave of layoffs, hitting my department hard. I’m safe—for now—but some key team members weren’t as lucky. And it was done in the most brutal way. I don’t know what to expect moving forward, but I do know I need to keep my wits about me and start applying for new jobs. I don’t trust this place anymore—or rather, I trust it even less than I did. Because let’s be honest, you never really get over being laid off. Maybe it’s my fault for going back.

So that was March. And that’s why I only read two books this month. But they were good ones—solid 3.75-star reads.

A Certain Hunger, Chelsea G. Summers (3.75/5.0)

This novel had the feel of a modernist work—something in the vein of Woolf or Rhys. I’m not the biggest modernist fan, but I do appreciate the atmosphere it creates. The prose is rich and self-assured, brimming with sharp observations and a darkly comic edge. I started off loving it, then hit a lull in the middle, but as the bigger picture came into focus, I understood why this book is so highly rated.

The story follows Dorothy Daniels, a food critic with an insatiable hunger—not just for culinary delights, but for something far more sinister. As she recounts her life, detailing her refined tastes and gruesome appetites, the novel unfolds as a razor-sharp satire of both foodie culture and the literary femme fatale. Think American Psycho meets Bluebeard, but with a distinctly feminist bite. Summers crafts a protagonist who is both repulsive and magnetic, daring readers to be both horrified and enthralled by her depravity.

While I found parts of the novel dragging at times, the sheer confidence of the narrative voice and its unflinching approach to desire, consumption, and power made it a memorable read. Definitely not for the faint of heart, but undeniably compelling.

Here are some lines that touched me:

‘Hotel bars smell like class privilege, desperation, and hope.’

‘From a distance an ellipses looks solid.’

‘It’s not that women psychopaths don’t exist; it’s that we fake it better than men.’

‘Power is the ultimate aphrodisiac.’

‘Emma rarely went anywhere, which is a thrifty way to live.’

The White Book, Han Kang (3.75/5.0)

I read most of this wrapped in crisp white bedding, in a bedroom that feels lighter than anywhere I’ve lived before. It was a fitting book to end the month with—quiet, meditative, and steeped in the symbolism of renewal.

Less a novel and more a fragmented meditation, The White Book is Han Kang’s deeply introspective exploration of grief, memory, and the color white. Written as a series of vignettes, it weaves together reflections on personal loss with musings on objects and phenomena—snow, salt, swaddling cloth, a blank page—all imbued with the quiet weight of absence. The book is rooted in the author’s contemplation of her older sister, who died shortly after birth, yet it expands into something more universal: a study of impermanence and the ways in which we seek meaning in the spaces left behind.

The writing is sparse but lyrical, every word carefully chosen, every silence deliberate. And while I admired its beauty, I struggled to connect with it on a deeper level. Short, fragmented works often feel ephemeral to me—like they slip through my fingers before I can fully grasp them. This was no exception. But even if it didn’t leave a lasting emotional impact, I can’t deny its elegance. A book to be read slowly, savoured, and perhaps, one day, revisited.

Here are some of the beautiful lines I highlighted:

‘One day she took a handful of coarse salt and examined it closely. Those crystals had a cool beauty, their white touched with gray’

‘Such is the strange comfort she receives, at that in-between time when sleep borders wakefulness, when that crisp cotton bedsheet brushes her skin.’

‘And she frequently forgot, That her body (all our bodies) is a house of sand. That it had shattered and is shattering still.’

‘Learning to love life again is a long and complicated process.’

‘Before turning back from them, she asks herself: Do you want to go on? To push forward? Is it worth it?’

‘When long days finally come to a close, a time to be quiet is needed.

The books I did not get around to:

• Salt Slow, Julia Armfield

• The Will of the Many, James Islington

• The Third Love, Hiromi Kawakami

What I would like to read in April:

Now the sun is out for longer, I’m hoping to read more:

• Salt Slow, Julia Armfield

• Bear Town, Fredrik Backman (I am already 50+ pages into this one!)

• Us Fools, Nora Lange

• Mina’s Matchbox, Yoko Ogawa

• One True Loves, Taylor Jenkins Reid

• The Secret History, Donna Tart (audiobook)

If you ever feel moved to support this tired writer trying to survive the 9–5 you can leave me a tip