Why I read women writers

A few days ago, I came across an Instagram post listing all the books read by Rory Gilmore in Gilmore Girls.

If I counted correctly, out of 339 books, only 79 were written by women (here’s the full list).

I commented that — for a show considered somewhat feminist (even if it’s from 25 years ago!) — 79 out of 339 felt a bit low. My comment received a range of replies: some agreed, others didn’t.
I respect every opinion, of course — but here, I can explain my point of view a little better.

My attitude might seem like a form of sexism — and maybe, in a way, it is (after all, the white-cis-male figure is a social construct, and yes, I try to keep it out of my life as much as I can) — but above all, it’s a conscious political stance.

Women have always struggled to be published — the first that comes to mind is Mary Shelley and her Frankenstein: she fought so much to have it published, and this true piece of art first appeared under her husband’s name. And when women did get published, their novels were often dismissed as “romance” — seen as light and unimportant simply because they dealt with emotions rather than “important” stories about men doing “important” things.

For a very long time, essential women authors were forgotten, hidden, erased.
The key point here is this: for centuries, the people holding the thread of storytelling — shaping the collective perspective — were men.

Now, I believe it’s time to rebalance that. To read books written by those who haven’t been read enough. Not because women are “better,” but because they’ve simply had fewer opportunities to be heard.

And beyond that: when we read female characters written by men, we often encounter them through the male gaze — a male perspective on what a woman should or shouldn’t be.
Of course, reading women alone isn’t enough: do our bookshelves include women of color, queer authors, disabled people, those from different classes and backgrounds?

These are, to me, essential questions. They help us widen our perspective and challenge the idea that “normality” is what a cis white man describes.

By diversifying the voices we read, we truly open ourselves to new, unfamiliar, and more authentic worlds.

With that, I’ll leave you with a question:
What book written by a woman has recently made your heart shine?

Until next time,
with love,
Virginia