How to respond when asked to be a judge for the country’s book awards? A lifelong sufferer of imposter syndrome, my first thought was, “Why me?” The second was, “Why not?” Eventually, I got to, “It might be fun, and I will learn something.”
I have had the privilege of editing feature sections in newspapers and magazines. As each edition went to print we hoped to tap the zeitgeist. Books, arts and theatre reviews and stories were a noisy part of the national conversation. As New Zealand media splutters, this is only part of what we stand to lose.
The Ockham New Zealand Book Awards are one of the few cultural bastions that bring us together to agree and disagree on the good and the great. The revelation is that a country our size continues to publish a substantial number of books. New Zealanders still read, and we want to read about ourselves. When Big Tech drains so much of the life and the local from our attention economy, that’s a comfort.
I was on the General Non-Fiction 2025 judging panel, whose work started late last year. Its category is a broad church covering history, biography, memoir, natural history, essay and creative non-fiction. From the boxes of books that arrived on the doorstep, trends were inescapable.
This year saw the rise of creative non-fiction delivered with sensibilities that could come only from Gen Z and Gen Z-adjacent writers. “It was sweet and sad like spilt bubble tea,” (Flora Feltham, Bad Archive). The literature of unease and trauma memoir has never gone away. “The thought that my sister could fly across the Tasman Sea and kill me has kept me awake at night.” (Mary Garden, My Father’s Suitcase.)
There will always be the wistful late middle-aged male intellectual. “Seeing Los Angeles from the air for the first time chips something off your soul.” (Matt Vance, innerland.) Women authors continue their struggle with the patriarchy, “I think what really exacerbated my internalised disgust was having sex with men.” (Airini Beautrais, The Beautiful Afternoon.) The environment and natural history remain a touchstone. “All the amber in the world was born from wounds.” (Una Cruickshank, The Chthonic Cycle.)
The task required judging 55 books in 90 days. With each of us having a day job, skimming and binge reading were entirely necessary. How do you compare a history of the invasion of the Waikato with a midlife memoir about an obsession with mermaids or linear television? Or the staunch picaresque adventures of a significant Māori activist with touching accounts of the turmoil many face with the small and large tragedies of colonialism?
Our three-person panel fretted. As the books kept coming, we read on, but in our own chosen order. Once we had a shared critical mass of books in our heads, the conversation began.
Thanks to thoughtful and articulate co-judges, convenor Holly Walker and Ross Calman, the shape of what needed to be done formed from the individual fog of gut response, prejudice and preference.
The award organisers set sensible criteria: literary merit, quality of production and impact on community. Thankfully, they are not at all proscriptive. For me, it came down to a simple verdict. Would I recommend this to a friend? If the book said something fresh about New Zealand, even better.
Inevitably, many books failed to spark much joy, distinguished by pedestrian prose and topics unlikely to grab anyone but members of the same little club. Digital printing means anyone can be published when some clearly should not. Books need an experienced publisher’s judgment, professional editing, good design and most of all, some love.
The good news: books with little appeal were the minority. There will be disagreement with the books the panel has chosen. That is a very good thing. When everyone agrees, the conversation is so boring.
No book arrives without mental sweat so the least we can do is make some noise about the reward for that labour. A good book is a handsome artefact, something to be held in the hand and treasured in a way online reading never quite matches. Most of the non-fiction entries were exactly that. Get reading.
