There’s a line in Lyn Hejinian’s poetics essay ‘The Rejection of Closure’ – form is not a fixture but an activity – and I love the idea of form being something that writers do, with purpose and intent. Maybe that comes from my background in poetry, but I seek out books that foreground that approach – texts where authors collide forms, pulling the strengths of various mediums together to generate something richer than what might have been possible for them in a single genre alone. Form can turn vastness into plenitude, Hejinian says, and books that are playful in this way can change the pacing on a dime, subvert a reader’s expectations or draw in other voices. The reading experience opens out. It feels luxurious, abundant.
When I write, I think about how the arrangement of words on the page might assist in conveying a particular sensation or feeling. These seven books have shown me new ways of shaping language to great effect. Some on this list are old favourites, inspirational touchstones, while others are newer discoveries – recent releases I’m still thinking about.
Part poetry, diary, academic essay, interview, theatre script and visual art object, this groundbreaking book is an exploration of experiences of racism and feels defiant in its refusal to be categorised by genre. Citizen, along with various commentary on Rankine’s work, was my first introduction to the term ‘micro-aggression’ – a term that became a foundation in the context of gender as I wrote Ash.
What I Talk About When I Talk About Running by Haruki Murakami
I find it hard to resist reading writers on writing, but this is a particularly nice addition to that category – it’s also a memoir, a travelogue, and a how-to guide on marathons. There is something about the rhythm – running, writing, and the endurance required for both – that is steady and captivating, but that also seems to contain the highs and lows of any good novel. It’s a book I imagine you could return to at any age and take a different sense of wisdom from its pages.
This book is such a beautiful object. Filled with Cole’s own photos of his global travels, along with poetic meditations or memories, what I find most interesting is the collision between the two forms. The mind naturally looks for connections between the words and image, and at times that connection is hazy, their merger more poignant somehow. It’s the type of book you wish you’d written yourself, and that you can easily pick up in a small window and absorb a few pages.
The Pedestrians by Rachel Zucker
Zucker’s work is frequently bracing in its honesty and The Pedestrians is a favourite that cuts to the quick. The first half of the book is a haunting narrative poetry sequence called ‘Fables’ –disarming and disorientating all at once. It is about a ‘she’ – a wife and a mother – who can’t seem to find herself in the domestic life she has helped to build. The second half is a collection of individual poems – conversational, often funny, often dreams. It’s a nice change of pace, where the two halves complement each other.
Anything Porter writes is guaranteed to be visually interesting – Lanny as another excellent example – and there is a single moment in Shy that really blew me away. It contains a paragraph (or poem) in large print that runs over the page, so that you have to flick between the two pages to take in the whole thing. The text is a parental monologue directed at the young protagonist, which comes at him as a barrage, and Porter uses the overleaf poetic format to convey that disturbance. Porter’s refusal to play by the rules of the physical page is wonderfully freeing.
When I Open the Shop by Romesh Dissanayake
In this novel about a young chef running a small noodle shop in Wellington, New Zealand, an extended poetry sequence materialises around halfway. Dissanayake’s poetic hand is evident elsewhere, in the book’s luscious descriptive passages as well, but I found the inclusion of this passage particularly intriguing. It lifts the reader out of the immediate narrative, slowing the pace down, and the poem further enhances the novel’s themes – ancestors and heritage, survival, friendship, and the joy of taste.
Enter Ghost by Isabella Hammad
Enter Ghost is one of my favourite novels of recent years and a book that I love to buy for friends. Recounting the story of a production of Hamlet in the West Bank, the characters are complex, nuanced, and the relationship between the two sisters at the novel’s centre is particularly compelling. As well as being a vivid exploration of Palestinian life (the book was published in 2024) and what drives the creative process, Hammad sometimes slips into a stage writing mode, which adds further tension and texture.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Louise Wallace is the author of four collections of poems, including This Is a Story About Your Mother. She is the founder of Starling, an online journal showcasing the work of young writers from Aotearoa | New Zealand, and the editor of Ōrongohau | Best New Zealand Poems 2022. She is a recipient of the Biggs Prize for Poetry and a Robert Burns fellow. Ash is her first novel.