Dear Reader,

Welcome to Kritikal Reading. 

This edition is about reading without labels — about not boxing yourself in as a “fiction reader” or a “nonfiction reader.” We often think of reading identities as fixed: the ones who read for facts versus the ones who read for feelings. But reading isn’t an allegiance; it’s a practice that expands with you.

Sometimes, we say we read to escape. But what does that really mean?

Escape can mean leaving behind your world for one that is entirely unlike it — a fantasy realm, an imagined history, a story that transports you beyond recognition.

Or it can mean slipping into a world that feels familiar but kinder — a place where love stories end well, where chaos finds closure, where happiness isn’t naïve but earned. That’s the comfort of a good romance.

And sometimes, escape means facing life exactly as it is — without illusions. Literary fiction, memoirs, even slow-burn character studies offer that kind of escape: one that doesn’t take you away, but deeper in.

Each genre gives you a different kind of mirror. Some reflect your imagination, others your reality, and some — the possibilities in between. Reading across them is how you learn not just what stories you enjoy, but why you reach for them in the first place.

In today’s edition, as I share news and updates from the world of books — and from my own reading life — you’ll notice that I read across genres. Even those I wouldn’t have once considered my comfort zone. And almost always, they’ve surprised me, in a good way.

What’s Lit this week?

In this section, I gather all the fun, juicy, and news-y updates related to books and publishing.

• Dispatches from the Gaza Strip

Naoise Dolan, author of Exciting Times and The Happy Couple, is an acclaimed Irish novelist. Alongside Dr Veronica O’Keane, she was abducted and detained by Israeli forces after the aid flotilla she was travelling on was intercepted by the IDF on their way to Gaza. As of October 12, they have been released. A statement was posted on her official Instagram account here:

“Overjoyed to confirm that Naoise was released from Israeli detention this morning and is currently making her way back home. A full statement will follow in due course, but thank you all again for your support over the past few days.

The struggle for Palestinian liberation continues; while we celebrate Naoise’s safe return, we hold close those who remain imprisoned and under siege. Please keep speaking out, donating, and amplifying Palestinian voices. Their freedom is our shared responsibility.“

More updates here:

• Banned Books Week (Oct 5th-11th): Good thing I like my books cancelled, eh?

We just celebrated Banned Books Week last week.

What is that?

We’ve been commemorating Banned Books Week since 1982 — a response to a sudden surge in books being challenged in libraries, schools, and bookstores.

Held in late September or early October, the annual event celebrates the freedom to read and brings together the entire book community — librarians, educators, authors, publishers, booksellers, and readers — in support of open access to ideas.

But what exactly makes a banned book?

Before we get there, it’s worth drawing a distinction.

There’s a difference between a book that’s simply age-restricted — say, 18+ for explicit content or mature themes — and one that’s banned outright.

Banning is about suppression, not suitability.

And the reasons for banning range wildly.

Some are political.

Take The Satanic Verses (1988) by Salman Rushdie — banned in several countries, including India, for so-called “blasphemous” content. It sparked protests, violence, and even a fatwa against the author — a chilling reminder of how power reacts to provocation.

Others are ideological.

Books like 1984 by George Orwell and The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood are repeatedly challenged for their dystopian visions — texts that hold a mirror to totalitarianism and control. Ironically, they are censored for the very ideas they warn against.

Then there are the moral panics.

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee has been removed from school curricula for its racial slurs and depictions of violence. The debate here isn’t new: how do we teach young readers about injustice without sanitising it?

And in the world of coming-of-age fiction, the list goes on.

The Catcher in the Rye, Looking for Alaska, Thirteen Reasons Why — all challenged for profanity, sexuality, drugs, or discussions of mental health.

But here’s the paradox: these books often help the very readers they’re accused of harming. They give language to loneliness, confusion, and pain — things many young people already live with in silence.

To speak about something isn’t to glorify it.

It’s to disarm it.

That’s the heart of Banned Books Week — the idea that talking about difficult subjects, reading about them, and keeping them visible is how we reduce fear, stigma, and silence.

Because censorship almost always protects those who benefit from the status quo — not those who are harmed by it.

And when stories about LGBTQ lives, domestic violence, or racial injustice are the ones being silenced, we must ask: whose comfort are we protecting?

So, maybe it’s time to make “banned” a reading category of its own.

After all, the books people try to erase are often the ones that matter most.

Bookings of the week

This is the section where I discuss my book escapades and adventures from the week. 

• Ali Hazelwood: She can write in any genre like a pro

Ali Hazelwood is a phenomenon.

She started out as a fanfiction writer — The Love Hypothesis, her breakout hit, began life as a Reylo (Rey and Kylo Ren) fanfic — and has since built a literary empire that’s as prolific as it is precise. The book is now being adapted for the screen, but that’s just the start of her story.

Hazelwood is best known for her STEMinist romances — sharp, funny, feminist novels where women scientists take centre stage. Her heroines are brilliant, grounded, and endlessly likeable — women you want to root for.

But what makes Hazelwood truly fascinating is her ability to move effortlessly across subgenres.

She’s written a young adult romance (Check & Mate), a couple of darker paranormal standalones with vampires and werewolves (Bride and Mate), the more mature and emotionally complex Deep End, and a series of dark novellas like First and Hot For Slayer.

And through it all, her signature remains unmistakable: tightly written prose, perfect pacing, and not a single sentence wasted. She writes with the discipline of a scientist and the heart of a romantic.

Where most authors find their niche, Hazelwood has built her own ecosystem — one where every subgenre of romance coexists. She’s explored the sunlit optimism of contemporary romance, the moody allure of paranormal, and the raw emotional depths of literary intimacy. And she’s done it all while keeping her storytelling fresh, feminist, and relentlessly engaging.

No wonder readers say she’s keeping us fed — and it’s not just quantity, it’s quality.

Hazelwood has become something of a literary Taylor Swift: a creator who reinvents herself with every release, while still cheering on other writers and debut voices in the genre.

• Recent Recommendations

Atmosphere by Taylor Jenkins Reid

If you’ve read Taylor Jenkins Reid before, you’ll know her books usually fall into one of two worlds. In one, she gives us these very propulsive, high-gloss, glamorous lives — The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, Daisy Jones & The Six, Malibu Rising, Carrie Soto Is Back — all centred on women living in the limelight, pushing against fame, ambition, and desire. In the other, she turns her gaze inward — marriages under quiet strain, the slow ache of grief, the tenderness of moving on.

Atmosphere, however, doesn’t belong to either world. It stands apart.

Yes, it’s a story about astronauts — but that’s only on the surface. What it’s really about is the act of becoming: what it meant to be a woman in a field that was only just beginning to allow women in; what it meant to reach for the stars (literally) while still being tethered to a life below; what it meant to hold ambition and love, duty and longing, in the same breath.

There’s something quietly devastating about this book. From the beginning, you know how it ends — the tragedy is revealed early. But that’s what makes every moment shimmer with melancholy. Every conversation, every triumph, every silence feels like it’s already coloured by loss.

I think that’s why I cried through most of it. Not because it surprised me, but because it didn’t. Because I knew what was coming, and it still broke me — in that quiet, inevitable way grief often does.

I Leave It Up To You by Jinwoo Chong

Five years ago, when the pandemic began, we knew the “pandemic novel” was inevitable — stories filled with masks, lockdowns, grief, and medical anxiety. But I Leave It Up To You takes a different route.

Its protagonist, Jack Jr., falls into a coma at the end of 2019 after a mysterious road accident — and wakes up two years later in 2021. He’s literally slept through the pandemic. Now he must make sense of a world transformed — and a personal life that’s quietly shifted while he was unconscious.

It’s an absurd premise, but one that delivers both humour and heart. The novel’s charm lies in its interpersonal dynamics — especially the way Jack’s family supports him as he relearns how to exist in a post-pandemic world.

Imagine Crying in H Mart if it were fictional, tenderly funny, and quietly absurd — that’s this book.

You end up rooting for everyone. Read my full review at the link below:

Thank you for signing up for Kritikal Reading! It’s a pun! On my name! 

A small introduction: I am Kritika. I have been writing and talking about books online since 2013 (when personal blogspot blogs were a thing; I am ancient!) Professionally, I am a freelance content writer for tech companies and nonprofits. 

I’m as hooked on coffee as I am on books. I’m doubling down on my book advocacy because I firmly believe that “I’m not a reader” is a temporary phase; you just haven’t found your perfect book. Kinda like love? I hope I can introduce some people to their book-lomls.