women's fiction

Too much hibernation and too much cake. All undertaken in the name of self-protection but now, not working so well anymore, in fact, causing more damage than anything. So when a friend asked me if I would like to join her at an author's event, I jumped at the chance.
Every time you review a book by a female writer - whatever the genre - whether on social media, on your blog, in your local or national newspaper, use the #ReviewWomen2015 hashtag. Let's make this the year fiction by women gets reviewed more than ever before.
On Friday 7th March, a new list will enter the cultural domain, a list that will no doubt fuel heated debate and produce many a column inch over the coming weeks.
In much the same way as a book by a male author about relationships or 'the domestic' (whatever that means) would never be given a pink cover, neither would it be described as anything other than 'contemporary fiction'. Why can't the same be true for books by women?
Fiction is one of the few walks of life where gender doesn't matter. In the real world, we are judged on our looks, our voice, our stance. In board rooms we struggle to make ourselves heard. On construction sites we are ogled. Books are genderless products that can be enjoyed by men and women regardless of what chromosomes the author happens to have.
Despite your degree from Cambridge or your MBA from Harvard, as soon as you marry your billionaire, everyone will call you a scheming gold-digger anyway.
No one should be forced to perform sexual acts that they feel uncomfortable with. But to blame books for creating a new and dangerous generation of sexually demanding women is ludicrous and harks back to the days when novel-reading was considered an unsuitable activity for women.