Diana Xin‘s debut short story collection, Book of Exemplary Women, was released late in 2025 and her writing was called “quiet intensity, emotional acuity, and impressive range, as though we are peering into a dozen kitchen windows and catching our neighbors at their most intimate, soul-baring, and true” by Kim Fu.
We asked Xin to answer our recurring My Reading Life Q&A so readers could get to know the books that shaped her life and influenced her debut collection.
What was the first book you were obsessed with as a child?
Oh, no. Do I answer truthfully? I’m embarrassed to admit that my first obsession was with the Sweet Valley Kids series. To be blonde and to have a twin! It was the dream. It was also an early inspiration. The twins I created lived in Flower Valley and became best friends with their new neighbor. I felt very validated reading Roxane Gay’s essay “I Once Was Miss America,” which embraces her own love and nostalgia for Sweet Valley High. Later, however, I moved on to darker materials when I found Betty Ren Wright. I guess I was drawn to ghosts and unfinished business pretty early on.
Can I also make a quick shout-out to Walter to Lazy Mouse? This Marjorie Flack book from 1937 was the chapter book read to me at school. I have a soft spot for this mouse who falls so out of sync with the rest of his family that they forget all about him, forcing him to find his own way through the forest and to build a house and furniture, while also becoming a teacher to three very forgetful frogs. I wouldn’t say I was obsessed with him, but he was pretty unforgettable to me.
What book helped you through puberty?
Puberty’s such an awkward time. This was true for me at the library, too. I would wander further and further into the adult stacks, while still holding tight to YA standards like Sarah Dessen’s Keeping the Moon. I lived half a block from the library, and my mom didn’t pay much attention to what I checked out so I could pretty much bring home any books I wanted as long as the covers weren’t too racy. Sometimes this got me into a bit of trouble, like I wasn’t ready yet for all the consensual touching in What Looks Like Crazy on an Ordinary Day. The classics provided a good bridge when I was ready but not quite ready for new material. I’m so glad my sister finally handed me a copy of Pride and Prejudice. Jane Austen carried me through a lot of puberty. My family also wasn’t the type to go out to the theater and such, so I remember one of the big outings I planned that made me feel very mature was to a staging of Pride and Prejudice at the Guthrie Theater.
What book do you think all teenagers should be assigned in school?
I think the world can feel very small when you’re a teenager. It’s hard to see beyond your immediate circumstance, or to really believe and not just theoretically know that life continues past high school. The gift of literature is that it makes the world bigger. It lets you experience someone else’s drama, family, community. A diverse reading list is key. On that note, I think it would also be great to include more literature in translation. Perhaps this can help make room for more cultural and personal difference, while also building points of connection and empathy and likeness.
If you were to teach a class on Damn Good Writing, what books would make the syllabus?
I’m publishing a book of short stories, but I love a long and expansive novel. Marlon James includes a list of characters at the beginning of most of his books, and I really do consult that list as I read. He writes in English, but is very focused on different points of Jamaican history. I would include A Brief History of Seven Killings. For novels in translation, I love The Vegetarian by Han Kang and the My Brilliant Friend quartet by Elena Ferrante. While James’s prose is exuberant and propulsive, both Kang and Ferrante write with precise simplicity, with cutting lines that compel readers forward. It’s a nice contrast in style. Recently, I also loved Eleanor Catton’s Birnam Wood, modern but Shakespearean in scope, set in New Zealand. Should note that this class would definitely need to include a content warning, like don’t read these while you’re on public transit. I definitely worried about people reading over my shoulder during certain scenes in The Vegetarian.
What books helped guide you while writing your book?
Early on, Kelly Link’s Magic for Beginners and Karen Russell’s St. Lucy’s Home for Girls Raised by Wolves. Their books opened up space in those writing workshop classrooms for more speculative and fantastical work. I’m grateful for more recent speculative collections as well, such as Carmen Maria Machado’s Her Body and Other Parties and Jessie Ren Marshall’s Women! In Peril! Catapult published a translation of Aoko Matsuda’s work, Where the Wild Ladies Are. I love the loose linkages between the stories in this collection.
There are also individual pieces that were influential, for instruction or inspiration. Kelly Link’s “Stone Animals” and “The Great Divorce,” for those eerie undertones and sudden shifts in perspective. T.C. Boyle’s “I Dated Jane Austen” gave me permission to play around with classical characters. I also love “The Dead” by James Joyce, for a story compressed into one evening, balancing a large cast and lots of volume against quieter intimate moments, moving between the public and the private.
What books are on your nightstand now?
I’ve been making my way through Middlemarch for the past year or so. Also recently started Our Share of Night by Mariana Enriquez. And I’m excited to pick up Kathryn Nuernberger’s new book Held: Essays in Belonging, about ecological, societal, and personal grief.