On the 2026 Women's Prize shortlist

I’ve written here before about my love for the Women’s Prize, which I think frequently strikes the perfect balance between literary excellence and accessibility and isn’t afraid to award a popular title or one that’s flown a bit under the radar. This year, I’ve set myself the goal of reading twelve Women’s Prize winners, one per month, and in May, I decided to read a future winner by reading every book I hadn’t gotten to from this year’s shortlist. If Heart the Lover by Lily King wins, which I read last year, I will have to read two winners in one month to get to twelve so my plan isn’t completely foolproof but I quite liked the idea of having read the entire shortlist anyway. And although I don’t think I loved this year’s shortlist, I’m still glad that I read my way through it.

My feelings on Heart the Lover remain mostly the same as they were when I read it last November. I still love the parts that I love, particularly the intoxicating quality of King’s writing and her ability to convey intensity of emotion, and I still have mixed feelings about the way this connects to Writers and Lovers. Of all the books on this shortlist, this is the one that had me the most invested and, even with my mixed feelings, I wouldn’t be mad if it won.

Here’s what I thought of each book on the shortlist, in alphabetical order:

Flashlight by Susan Choi

Louisa's father disappears when they go out for a walk along the beach at night and the effects of that fateful night echo down generations of their family, from her father's childhood as a Korean in Japan to his unhappy marriage with her mother to her mother's illegitimate son Tobias’ search for meaning. This is an exceptionally well written novel full of deeply miserable characters. The sheer line-by-line craft on display is fantastic, from the unexpected imagery to the sentence structure to the way Choi reveals bits and pieces of the family's story like she's shining a flashlight over a darkened room. There's a particularly amazing passage where she describes how Louisa goes from outsider to fitting in at her Japanese school that had me in awe at its fluidity and originality. However, all three of our main characters are unhappy and angry for 450 pages, which made this a bit of a challenging read for me. I found myself reading more for the craft and to see how Choi was going to pull all these disparate threads together than because I wanted to spend time with these characters. If you're a prose or craft-focused reader, I think you might love this. I also have a feeling this family epic might be this year’s winner, especially after it was shortlisted for both the Booker and the National Book Award and if the committee leans more on the excellence and originality aspects of the award’s three criteria.

Dominion by Addie E. Citchens

The sins of the most powerful family in a small Mississippi town are revealed when their idolized youngest son's acts of violence begin to catch up with him. Told through the perspective of the two women in relationships with charismatic but cruel Winfrey men--the preacher's wife Priscilla and teenager Diamond--Citchens chronicles cycles of patriarchal violence, crises of faith, and the challenges of escape. This is quite well written, especially when it comes to depicting gender relations in this small town and the grip the charismatic and cruel preacher Sabre Winfrey exerts over everything there. Even the smallest social interaction is deeply telling. However, so much happens in the span of less than 250 pages that no individual plot point gets room to breathe and the big moments, when they finally come, feel somewhat anti-climactic. It felt overstuffed and while I admired a lot of the line-level writing here, I would have swapped this out on the shortlist for Audition by Katie Kitamura.

The Correspondent by Virginia Evans

An elderly woman writes letters to everyone in her life, including those she confides in, those she argues with, and those who can no longer answer. This deftly threads the needle of being warm and sweet without ever tipping over into overly sugary, helped along by Sybil’s crisp, matter-of-fact narrative voice. It’s a thoughtful and lovely reflection on life, legacy, loss, and new beginnings. Sybil jumps off the page through her letters, as do so many of the supporting characters, and I so enjoyed the epistolary storytelling. It's a charming and wistful story that also happens to be steeped in bookishness and it's easy to see how it became a smash hit for legions of readers. I will say that I went into this with very high expectations, after hearing from so many fellow readers how much they loved it, and while I liked this a lot, I wasn’t blown away by it and I’m still trying to pin down why. (Please let me know in the comments if you felt similarly!) I do think this might win, if the prize committee leans in a more popular direction, and that it would be a fun pick.

The Mercy Step by Marcia Ann Hutchinson

A young girl who escapes her deeply troubled home life through books and the power of her mind grows up and grows into her own in the north of England during the 1960's and 1970's. I loved Mercy, her determination to make her own way, and her ever curious mind. There's some particularly lovely passages where she first discovers the imaginative powers of reading and Hutchinson captures a child's perspective with subtlety and nuance. Mercy sees certain things so clearly, like the danger her volatile and violent father poses to her entire family, while other things are beyond her understanding (but not the reader’s). This novel was also an interesting look at the challenges of the Windrush Generation and a rapidly changing Britain. I would definitely recommend checking the content warnings before picking this one up. So many bad things happen to and around Mercy that I did find myself hoping rather desperately for something to go her way. There was a point where I found myself wondering how the pile of tragedies pushed the novel forward and if they reiterated its themes instead of deepening them.

Kingfisher by Rozie Kelly

A young queer academic haunted by his difficult childhood becomes obsessed with a famous colleague, a renowned poet whose life and affection he covets. This slim novel was a pleasant surprise and my favorite discovery from the shortlist. At first, it felt very much like something I’d read before, especially in Kelly’s use of spare, straightforward prose that reminded me of Sally Rooney and the love triangle the novel seems to be turning on. (I yearn for lush, rich, complicated sentences in literary fiction but that’s another newsletter altogether.) However, as the book goes on, it morphs into a story of friendship, love, and caretaking that delicately charts a set of tangled power dynamics and that I ultimately found quite moving. Kelly writes about the small details of grief and the everyday duties of care in a way that feels deeply lived-in and wonderfully observed. I also loved the friendship between our unnamed narrator and his best friend Jess, which may be the deepest and truest love in the novel.

And two titles from the long list that I’d still like to read:

• The Best of Everything by Kit DeWaal, which comes highly recommended from the FictionMatters community.

• The Others by Sheena Kalayil, about three friends in 1989 in East Germany and a messy love triangle.

Let me know if you’ve read anything from the Women’s Prize shortlist and what you thought!

Currently reading: The Jade Temptress by Jeannie Lin, which is excellent, particularly if you’re looking for a historical romance with very real obstacles to the characters’ HEA.

Recommendations, miscellany, and little bits of joy:

• I am deeply into Off Campus. I haven’t finished the show yet but it’s reminding me of the CW dramas I spent most of my formative years obsessed with and the chemistry on screen is just perfection.

• Some really good classic brick oven pizza from Giuseppina’s in Park Slope, in a cozy dining room where we could see the oven burning away at the back.

• I went to see Schimgadoon last weekend, which is a candy-colored confection that you might also enjoy if you’re a fan of Golden Age musicals and media that joyfully sends them up. The second act opening tap number alone is worth it.