Your favourite SMH and Age journalists’ favourite books

If you truly want to understand someone, skip the Myers-Briggs and look at their bookshelf. You might know our journalists and editors through the stories they write, but what are they reading when they’re off the clock? We asked staff across The Sydney Morning Herald and The Age to share their favourite books published in 2026 so far.

The reading choices were, in some cases, alarmingly on brand – Kate McClymont is still chasing corruption and wrongdoing even in her leisure reading – while elsewhere the newsroom was busy falling for tradwives, medieval knights, literary heartbreak and one particularly memorable goat. Two novels emerged as runaway favourites, becoming this year’s unofficial office book club selections.

Now it’s your turn. At the end of this piece, tell us the best new book you’ve read this year so we can round up readers’ most-loved recommendations.

London Falling by Patrick Radden Keefe
A gripping true story about the mysterious circumstances in which a 19-year-old teenager plummeted to his death from the balcony of a luxury apartment on the banks of the Thames. The boy’s grim death in 2019 has as its backdrop the decline of London and the shocking consequences when officialdom turns a blind eye to the rampant corruption flowing from the dirty billions flooding in via Russian oligarchs. Fans of the award-winning Radden Keefe, who writes for The New Yorker, and whose previous works include Empire of Pain (about the Sackler family and America’s opioid crisis) and Say Nothing (about the Troubles in Northern Ireland), will appreciate his latest riveting read. Kate McClymont, SMH chief investigative reporter

Trip to the Moon: Understanding the True Power of Story by John Yorke
For a book about narrative structure and the power of a good yarn, Yorke could have given this a tighter edit. Regardless of the lecturer and telly producer’s fondness for an adjective, Yorke’s second book (after 2014’s bestselling treatise on screenwriting Into the Woods) is full of sharp, sometimes profound, insights regarding the potent role of stories in conspiracy theory, religion and politics. (Hillary Clinton’s “Stronger Together” campaign slogan was doomed against the “masterclass in condensed narrative” of “Make America Great Again”, he says.) There’s plenty of what Yorke calls “domesticated story” analysis, too, linking Tolstoy, Happy Valley and Iron Man 3. You don’t need a background in the filmography of Georges Méliès to pick this up. Callan Boys, Good Food national eating out and restaurant editor

Kin by Tayari Jones
Picking up a Tayari Jones novel is like sitting down to a well-balanced meal – it’s tasty but also satisfying with plenty of characters and passages to keep you thinking after completion. Kin shares similarities to two of Jones’ previous novels, An American Marriage and Silver Sparrow – deep family relationships with a strong sense of place in the American South. Kin tells the stories of two motherless girls and their lifelong grief. Told in narrative counterpoints, the girls begin together, diverge and then meet once again. An American Marriage was an Oprah Book Club pick, praised by then US president Barack Obama and won the 2019 Women’s Prize for Fiction. It resonated at a particular point in American history. Kin also does that. Although the novel is set in the 1950s/1960s at the tail end of the Jim Crow era, it feels very timely. Kin is the best kind of political novel – the very personal one. Stephanie Peatling, deputy national editor

Transcription by Ben Lerner
I’m trying to squeeze in just before the hordes to say Ben Lerner’s new novel Transcription is one of the better books of 2026. Our protagonist is a writer who must conduct one final interview with his 90-year-old mentor but drops his phone in his hotel sink and no longer has a way to transcribe it. This novel so cleverly mimics our permeating post-pandemic screen addiction, it includes a child who watches ASMR toy unboxing videos on YouTube: “I was experiencing a withdrawal indistinguishable from mild intoxication, the landscape made strange, the stones stonier, by my being suddenly offline.” Frances Howe, SMH sports reporter

The Lost Book of Lancelot by John Glynn
Are you ready for Heated Camelot? The cast of Arthurian legends are assembled in the story of Lancelot told by John Glynn, author of Out East: Memoir of a Montauk Summer. From the fated knight’s childhood on the Isle of Women to his prophesied quest for the Holy Grail, the story focuses on the yearning beneath Lancelot’s armour for his beloved Galehaut. While not as steamy as Rachel Reid’s Heated Rivalry series, it offers a similar satisfaction of encountering queer characters in previously neglected settings. With guest appearances from Merlin, Morgan Le Fay and Guinevere, this is magical escapism that fuels dashed hopes for happy-ever-after in Camelot. Damien Woolnough, fashion editor

The Shortest History of Innovation by Andrew Leigh
Not content with his best-selling short book on the history of economics, government minister Andrew Leigh this year released a new tome – this time, a short history of innovation. Starting with Alexander Fleming’s discovery of penicillin, Leigh takes the reader on an adventure that includes Sappho, why thousands of babies and mothers died because of a monopoly enjoyed by the person who invented forceps, and ends with the risk to humanity posed by AI. Like the Wright brothers (whom Leigh notes actually contributed to America falling behind on airplane development in the 1910s by focusing on patents), you’ll fly through this small piece of brilliance and history. Shane Wright, senior economics correspondent

Lost Lambs by Madeline Cash
When I started reading Lost Lambs by Madeline Cash in one big gulp by the beach earlier this year, I found myself looking around to make sure nobody was close enough to hear me laughing. The book is about a family consisting of two dysfunctional parents and three teenage daughters who, for lack of a better way to put it, have a lot of shit going on. There are affairs (both imagined and actual), conspiracy theories that prove themselves to be true, a bomb threat and, on top of it all, a gnat infestation plaguing the local church. If it all sounds a little bonkers, that’s because it is. This novel is just as whimsical as it is engulfing – like being dropped into the middle of an inside joke. Gyan Yankovich, lifestyle editor

Newsroom favourite

The Things We Never Say by Elizabeth Strout
Jacqueline Maley, columnist and senior writer: The title of Elizabeth Strout’s poignant new book is as near-perfect as the story. Strout specialises in rendering the profound and peculiar loneliness of her characters, who are bound by the things they cannot say to each other, even as they try desperately to connect. This novel follows the story of ordinary, decent Artie Dam, a man holding fast to what is good and true in a world full of shocks, both personal and political. The novel is universal in its themes but it is firmly grounded in this period in American history, when powerful forces are alienating ordinary people from others in their community. Through the eyes of the compassionate yet baffled Artie, we see the reality of contemporary America, where entire topics must be avoided to keep the peace, but in doing so, insidious moral compromises are made. But this book is not about politics – it simply meets the moment with sharp-eyed observation, and grace. It is her most humane and probably her saddest novel yet.

Michael Bachelard, senior writer: Strout’s novel depicts Artie Dam, a beloved school teacher, realising for the first time that people are, in fact, islands. In her typically beautiful, discursive style, Strout shows us the pained humanity of a group of family members, students and friends who sometimes connect and influence each other in profound and moving ways, but who mostly do not. Meanwhile, contemporary America grows progressively more hostile around them. Despite these gently devastating messages, Strout also manages to reassure us. This is the human condition, and within its limitations we still have capacity for kindness and dignity, and love.

Samantha Selinger-Morris, host of The Morning Edition: Artie Dam, the 57-year-old high school history teacher at the centre of The Things We Never Say by Elizabeth Strout has a shard of loneliness within him, which threatens to crack him open. “His wife had married down, and he had married up,” he reasons simply, one day, chalking up their growing disconnection to their class differences. Meanwhile, their son, Rob, can’t seem to look at Artie. Rob, who at 17, survived a car accident – it may have been his fault – in which his girlfriend died. And then, Artie learns a life-upending secret that his wife has been hiding from him. Aren’t we all unknowable? Not only to our loved ones, but maybe even to ourselves? This is what Strout’s book seems to ask. She writes all her characters with compassion, for she knows – her writing seems to telegraph – that we are all misshapen things. Doesn’t matter. She loves them – and us, by association – anyway.

I went pretty gooey for its undeniable charms.

Robert Moran on The Ten Year Affair

The Ten Year Affair by Erin Somers
Let’s put this pick into context: I’ve read barely a dozen books so far this year and only one of them was published in 2026, so The Ten Year Affair wins by default. But I went pretty gooey for its undeniable charms. Based or not on Erin Somers’ own emotional truth (it’s always fun to speculate), the book follows Cora – an overextended and undersexed 30-something mum of two with a sweet-if-overly-chill husband (Eliot) – who embarks on a tepid affair with a dad (Sam) from her baby’s mothers’ group. It’s a wry Millennial take on domestic malaise, middle-aged desire, and the sad illusion of greener grass (there is no greener grass, just shame and indignity). It’s testament to Somers’ vivid, rhythmic and very funny writing – her dialogue has the honest patter of a James L. Brooks screenplay – that I cast the inevitable Hollywood adaptation while I was reading: Rashida Jones as Cora, Jesse Plemons as Sam, John Reynolds as Eliot. Put my Oscar in the mail. Robert Moran, Spectrum deputy editor

First Tilt (Broken Lances #0.5) by Lucien Burr
Despite being a prequel, this queer medieval romantasy novella lives in my head rent-free and I’m totally obsessed. A nameless knight challenges Ser Halden, an undefeated tournament champion, and succeeds. As their rivalry explodes into something more, the fiercely loyal but jealous squire, Perrin (my favourite) – who devoted his entire being to Halden – is caught right in the middle. There are dangerous fixations, jousting and sword fighting (wink) and the gorgeous cover promises what’s to come. I’m excited for the next book! Aresna Villanueva, graphic artist

Duty to Warn by Charlotte Grieve
Charlotte Grieve had a lot to live up to when formidable investigative journalist Nick McKenzie likened her debut book to Helen Garner’s work. It’s an apt comparison. This beautifully written and vulnerable memoir explores the craft of journalism and Grieve’s experience of being sued for defamation by high-profile orthopedic surgeon Dr Munjed Al Muderis. Grieve comes at the well-trodden genre of courtroom non-fiction from a unique vantage point – the witness box. She unpacks, in incredible detail, the behind-the-scenes work involved in exposing Al Muderis’ allegedly substandard patient care and unethical practices, and then defending her reporting in court. It’s a gripping read – I could not put it down. Henrietta Cook, senior health reporter

Songwriters on the Run by Robert Forster
What could be a better premise for a road novel than a pair of musicians absconding from a small-town Queensland jail and trying to make it back to Melbourne to find the missing band manager whose testimony could explain away their troublesome charges? Forster leans in on his time as one of the songwriters in Brisbane’s legendary band The Go-Betweens to spin a story where the plot is just the backbeat. This is a joyride through 1992 in the front seat of a 1983 Toyota Corolla our runaways buy in exchange for their guitars in an enjoyably rendered boho backwater. Old enough to remember it, I got a big kick out of all the little cameos and Easter eggs and the spot-on satire of the Melbourne indie scene, but was won over by the wry, well-judged dialogue and the beating heart of friendship, collaboration, creation. A Netflix series begging to happen. Michelle Griffin, federal bureau chief

I got a big kick out of all the little cameos and Easter eggs and the spot-on satire of the Melbourne indie scene.

Michelle Griffin on Songwriters on the Run

Mantle by Romy Ash
Bizarre and audacious, Romy Ash’s Mantle also manages to be relatable. The Naarm-based author’s latest offering deals with grief and loss, lust that evolves into something more, and human connection more broadly. There’s also a plague unlike any you’ve seen before. Ash asks the big, existential questions through stunningly written characters – the world around them an equally significant player – and a wondrous, intriguing plot. This is a bunker-down, read-in-one-sitting novel, well worth the 14-year wait since her last, the Miles-Franklin short-listed Floundering. Kerrie O’Brien, senior writer, culture

On the Record and On the Ball: How Elite Coaches Master the Media by Tim Percival
It pains me to admit this is the only book I’ve read this year – call me a news junkie – but it offered a fascinating insight into how coaches manage the media. Journalists know what it’s like chasing stories, but this provided a great perspective from the other side: how coaches shape messages, navigate a crisis and handle challenges such as leaks from within an organisation. Ultimately, the book argues that a coach’s greatest ally can be the media. Some coaches hate dealing with journalists. The successful ones, in my experience, understand how to play the media game. Perhaps it’s a book former Wallabies coach Eddie Jones could have used before his secret Zoom interview with Japan was revealed on the eve of the 2023 Rugby World Cup. Tom Decent, SMH chief sports writer

Cast Away by Francesca de Tores
If anyone had told me that my favourite literary character this year would be a goat, I’d have said that they’d have to be, ahem, kidding. But Francesca de Tores’ Cast Away is such a dazzling reimagining of the true story of Scottish sailor Alexander Selkirk (inspiration for Daniel Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe) that by the time a central and logic-defying twist happened, I was spellbound. As our tarnished hero confronts his demons, de Tores draws philosophy and humour from his unlikely friendship with the horned and bearded Reverend Vicarious Cronch. My list of desert-island books just got a bit longer. Lindy Percival, Spectrum national editor

The Stained Man by Patrick Mullins
Patrick Mullins takes what could have been a forgotten historical footnote and turns it into a gripping tale of crime, politics, ambition and self-delusion in late 19th-century Sydney. I could hardly put it down. The author’s first biography, the superb Tiberius with a Telephone, redefined Billy McMahon revealing a figure far more complicated than the caricature. The Stained Man is every bit as compelling. Richard “Dick” Meagher emerges as a gifted political operator, disgraced solicitor and master of reinvention whose ambition repeatedly outpaced his conscience. This book works on multiple levels – as true crime, political history and a portrait of a nation finding its feet. A must-read. Rob Harris, national correspondent

The Cook’s Companion (30th Anniversary Edition) by Stephanie Alexander
When I heard that Stephanie Alexander was releasing a 30th anniversary edition of The Cook’s Companion it unleashed a wave of fond nostalgia. Her original doorstop of a cookbook was my go-to as a fledgling adult with parlous cooking skills in a world before recipes could be searched online and watched on YouTube. Does the updated version of the tome, which is as much a culinary encyclopedia as a cookbook, have the same magic in the digital age? In a word, yes. Revised and revamped and even bigger than before, Alexander’s confident and commanding advice remains as relaxing and reassuring a read now as it was then. Melissa Stevens, Good Weekend editor

Famesick by Lena Dunham
Even before I finished Lena Dunham’s second memoir, Famesick, I was nauseatingly eager to talk to anyone about it who would indulge me. So if you only read one thing published in the first half of this year, this should be it. Much like Dunham, 40, does in the book, I’ll front-run the cons: the Girls creator can be needy, even petulant. But that aside, Dunham puts on a masterclass in the celebrity memoir. It’s rich with disclosure – pour one out for her music producer ex, Jack Antonoff, and Girls co-star Adam Driver, who both come off looking like losers – and delivers a trenchant account of living with chronic illness, the toll of celebrity, all in great style. John Buckley, CBD columnist

Newsroom favourite

Yesteryear by Caro Claire Burke
Katy Hall, The Age deputy state topic editor: As a real-time study of popular culture and American politics, I devoured Caro Claire Burke’s debut novel, Yesteryear. Just about every adult character is in some way unlikeable or utterly irredeemable, but none more so than protagonist Natalie, a devout Christian tradwife who documents her “perfect” life with her five children and husband for millions of social media followers. When Natalie wakes up stuck on her remote homestead 200 years in the past, there’s a perverse page-turning satisfaction in watching her grapple with the stark juxtaposition of living in the kind of “simpler times” she made a career out of peddling online compared with what had actually been her previous reality. Though some people have been disappointed by the book’s ending, for me, the heroines of Yesteryear are Natalie’s daughters, who tenderly illustrate the deep complexity of love and loyalty in dysfunctional families.

Elizabeth Redman, national property editor: Natalie Heller Mills is a perfect tradwife influencer who bakes bread, runs a farm, and is pregnant with her sixth child. She’s just hit five million Instagram followers. Then one day she wakes up, and it’s 1855. Or is it? There are no electric lights, no hot showers. But something isn’t quite right. There are sharp reflections on internet culture: why do people hate-reply to her instead of spending time with their own families? If a content creator owns the means of production, does that make her a feminist? At the end, there’s a twist that is incredible, unforeseeable, unputdownable.

Bianca Hall, The Age environment and climate reporter: Natalie Heller Mills is insufferable. A Christian tradwife influencer who lives through the lens of Instagram, she is smart, beautiful, and disciplined in the art of homemaking – with a little help from her staff. But Natalie’s family – dressed in “a rainbow of neutrals” – is not what it seems. Her husband is unfaithful, and her carefully curated life unravels. “Lord … Please don’t let her win. And please give my husband a spine. I’m tired of him needing to borrow mine.” When Natalie is transported to 1855 rural Idaho, without the modern trappings that have so defined her, we are left to wonder: Is it God’s plan? Or is she losing her mind?

Where the Light Gets In by Ben Crowe
At their worst, self-help books reduce the human experience to cliches. They are preachy piles of pseudoscientific goop. But at their best, they are deeply personal, insightful and can change the way we feel about ourselves and our lives. Ben Crowe’s Where the Light Gets In is one such book. A mentor to some of the world’s top performers and a natural storyteller, Crowe shares the very human experiences of the high-achievers he has worked with to illustrate the importance of mindset. He also challenges widely held ideas about what success means and offers sagacious advice for how to change our perspective to change our lives. Sarah Berry, lifestyle and health writer

The Water Takes by Sarah Walker
As someone who is increasingly grumpy about all manner of things, I was instantly taken by the protagonist in Sarah Walker’s debut novel, The Water Takes, when she shoved her neighbour’s dead cat in the freezer and pretended she hadn’t seen it. Pam’s world weariness, and wariness of other humans, is nicely countered by the childlike openness and wisdom of her new friend, Charlotte, the 10-year-old whose parents disappeared when their home fell into a sinkhole, one of many mysteriously appearing around town. If that all sounds a bit crazy, then it is – in the best of ways. This distinctly original book by a young Melbourne author, artist and photographer had me thinking at times of José Saramago’s Blindness, at others of William Golding’s Lord of the Flies. Don’t let talk of it being a “climate change novel” – aka virtuous, boring – put you off. It’s so much more. Katrina Strickland, Good Weekend senior writer

Almost Life by Kiran Millwood Hargrave
A coming-of-age story set against the backdrop of Paris? We’ve all read that one before. But Almost Life isn’t your typical story of love, heartbreak and finding yourself in Europe’s most romantic city. Maybe that’s because it’s a queer story set in the 1970s or because it leans into, rather than shies away from, the pretentiousness of Paris in the summer – bookshop readings, glasses of red wine and being the only person to really get Art. But it’s also because it’s a book about missed opportunities and moments lost, and about how the people you’ve loved continue to shape your life even after they’re gone. Billie Eder, SMH sports reporter