My Monticello, by Jocelyn Nicole Johnson
If you like Colson Whitehead you'll love Jocelyn Nicole Johnson. This was a tightly-written and powerful collection of short stories and one dystopian novella featuring Thomas Jefferson's old plantation and echoes of the very real "Unite the Right" rally in 2017.
Day, by Michael Cunningham
Has it really been more than twenty years since I've read a book by Michael Cunningham? I devoured The Hours in a single day, long before it became a movie I love. Day had a similar impact on me in that I read it straight through, but twenty years later his prose hits differently -- or maybe it's the subject, or the fact that I'm twenty years older, or recovering from COVID myself as I'm reading a book set on a single day (April 5) spread over three years (2019, 2020, and 2021). The structure worked beautifully, but it's a structure Cunningham always does beautifully. He's just an exquisite writer.
The World and All That It Holds, by Hernan Diaz
In an interview with The Guardian Aleksandar Hemon said, "I don’t have to understand everything in a book. It’s not like a car – not everything has to work. If you are constantly puzzled by the world then you read books that puzzle you." I read this before I actually finished reading the novel, and that line resonates. This is a line I will share with my high school students. This puts into words what I have always felt!
I'm still processing this one, but there's no way I can give this novel fewer than five stars. I'm utterly in awe of Aleksandar Hemon and his use of language, which he says is "the only access to other people's consciousness." Beyond that, the characters, the voice, the history, the love story, and the longing for home (a theme that always resonates with me) made this what I feel sure will be one of the most impactful reading experiences of the year for me.
Girlhood, by Melissa Febos
Poignant, relevant, readable, important.
Sun House, by David James Duncan
In the "Acknowledgements in Four Stories" at the end of the book, David James Duncan wrote that "upon learning the manuscript was 360,000 words long, some of [his] friends laughed and asked who had time for what even [his] esteemed editor called 'this beautiful behemoth' in an age of governance by tweets and 'news' shelled out by logarithms." He replied, "Everybody puking sick of tweet governance and ad-prostituted logarithms." I'm not sure that's why I gulped down this enormous book, but I realized my soul was thirsty for exactly this experience. And that's what it felt like, because while I finished it nearly two months after I began it, I didn't read this slowly; I read it by spending a few weekends fully immersed in it. It felt like diving into a waterfall, entirely awake and alive, senses fully engaged.
This is not a writer who will be remembered for his "spare" prose. David Gates of The New York Times certainly didn't love the novel, and maybe it is preachy and self-indulgent. I don't care. If you loved The Brothers K like I did, this might be for you, but this is not a book I will recommend to someone who has never read David James Duncan. It isn't a book for everyone, and I realize how utterly precious this makes me sound, but I don't want it to be. Reading this book felt so deeply personal and I loved it wholeheartedly. I laughed often and cried just as much (I literally cried through the entire last hour of reading it). It made me feel like there is plenty left in the world to love, no matter how broken the world is.
The Nickel Boys, by Colson Whitehead
Reread before I taught it to seniors. What I wrote when I first read it still stands: Colson Whitehead is a literary genius. I really believe this. I thought The Underground Railroad was brilliant, and his new novel reinforces everything I love about his writing even though it's an entirely different novel. This is the fictional portrayal of a real-life horror: the Dozier School in Florida, a reform school for boys that operated for over one hundred years and brutalized thousands of young men. The story centers around two characters, Elwood and Turner, and I will say only that I fell hard for them both and that I don't want to reveal a single thing about the trajectory of their lives. I read this in two sittings. This is a slim novel, but the huge power of Whitehead's writing lies in as much as what he doesn't say, in the way he can evoke an entire scene with only a glimpse: a single terrifying item, a single sound. It's an important story. Don't look away.
Land of Milk and Honey, by C Pam Zhang
C Pam Zhang is a brilliant writer, and this book is gorgeous. I read the first half in one sitting. But it didn't quite hit for me the way her first novel did; I realized I wasn't eager to pick it up again and finished it quickly mostly so I could move on to something else. (I'll still read anything Zhang writes.)
Let Us Descend, by Jesmyn Ward
It's Jesmyn Ward. Read it.
The Hunter, by Tana French
I know there are plenty of people who just want Tana French to go back to the Dublin Murder Squad, but I have enjoyed all of her stand-alones just as much. Only this one is a follow-up to The Searcher, so not so much a standalone; in fact, I think reading The Searcher is important before reading The Hunter. Anyway, this might be my favorite (although I always think that when I'm still feeling that post-reading high). Pay no mind to the folks who call it "slow." This is Tana French's characterization at her finest, and I was all in from the beginning. I don't know if we're in for more stories with Cal and Trey, but if we are, I'm here for those, too.
James, by Percival Everett
I am rarely drawn to retellings of the "classics." Sometimes they work (Home Fire by Kamila Shamsie and The Chosen and the Beautiful by Nghi Vo come to mind), but often they're not my thing (New Boy by Tracy Chevalier). But I read Everett's The Trees last year and that was all I needed to pick up this one. Gosh, I'm late to this writer -- but better late than never. He is a genius. I really believe this.
I started reading James as our plane took off from DC and finished it twenty minutes before we landed in Seattle. It was a late flight after a long day and I was so tired, but I could not put this down. I suspected this would be the case after I read the very first paragraph. It's brilliant. I mean brilliant. I'm not sure one needs to have read Huck Finn to appreciate what Everett accomplishes with this, but as someone who read Mark Twain's novel for English class in 7th grade, 11th grade, and a college American Lit class and then taught it in my own the year Obama was elected, I was even more blown away. At some point perhaps I'll be able to write more than "This is brilliant and everyone must read it immediately." Hernan Diaz calls it a "canon-shatteringly great book [that] rewrites literary history to let us hear the voices it has long suppressed."I'll be thinking about this for a long time, and I believe this is worth as much shelf space as the "classic" it so beautifully subverts.
Prophet Song, by Paul Lynch
Another dystopian novel I wasn't in the mood for but absolutely hit all the right notes. Nothing about this novel feels unrealistic, and Paul Lynch is a master of language, so here we are.
None of This is True, by Lisa Jewell
I read this in one day at the end of Spring Break, and it was exactly what I wanted -- psychological thriller with unreliable characters, plotty, a little dark and twisty but nothing too gratuitous. The ending was a bit of a mess but whatever, it was a fun read.
The Firekeeper's Daughter, by Angeline Boulley
I honestly don't read a lot of YA these days, but this one was recommended by so many folks I respect (and so many English teachers). I bought it months before I picked it up -- I wasn't sure I wanted to commit to reading such a long YA novel right now. If I'd known how propulsive and well written it was, I would have read it sooner. Once I was in (I wasn't sure I would be in those first few pages), I was all in, and I read the entire thing in two days. And now I'm sure I'll pick up her new novel as well.
Daughter of Mine, by Megan Miranda
I read this as an ARC I "won" on Indie Bookstore Day. It's not my favorite from this author but it delivered what I expected and needed during a really difficult week.
Tracks, by Louise Erdrich
I've had this on my shelf for a long time and was glad to finally pick it up and return to some of the characters in Love Medicine (which will always be one of my favorite books). Nanapush and Pauline Puyat are fascinating narrators, but the story really belongs to Fleur Pillager. I don't know that I'll reread this like I do Love Medicine, but Erdrich's writing always rewards the time I spend with it.
Whiskey Tender, by Deborah Jackson Taffa
Really excellent memoir about growing up caught between Native and White American culture and struggling to find a place in either. I read this book during a time in which it was tough for me to concentrate, so it took a lot longer than it might have. Still, the storytelling reminded me a bit of The Glass Castle (in a good way) and the way Taffa weaves the personal with the political is particularly effective.
Letters to a Young Madman: A Memoir, by Paul Gruchow
Paul Gruchow was a professor at Concordia while I was a student, and I was so excited to take one of his writing courses...and then he showed up on the first day and apologized, telling us that he was not well enough to teach. I don't remember if he told us he would be hospitalized then, but he took his own life just a few years later. This book wasn't published for several years after his death, and it was tough to get my hands on a copy; I can't help but wonder what he would have made this manuscript had he lived. Anyway, it's gutting to me. Worth reading, worth holding, worth having my heart seize over, but utterly impossible to rate.
Then She Was Gone, by Lisa Jewell
I read this in under 24 hours, tried not to guess the twists I knew were coming, and was distracted in the way I sometimes need to be during stressful times of the school year.
The Age of Magical Overthinking: Notes on Irrationality, by Amanda Montell
I really enjoy her voice, first of all.
I read this entire thing over nearly 40 hours in an Emergency Room, and it was exactly what I needed.
Madness: A Bipolar Life, by Marya Hornbacher
I'll be able to review this someday. Absolutely worth reading. Hornbacher's insight into her own psyche is astonishing. This is not a book you read when you want to feel better, but it might help you understand.
Table for Two, by Amor Towles
This was just absolutely so much fun to read. Every time I picked it up I looked forward to being immersed in whatever story Towles was telling.
Alphabetical Diaries, by Sheila Heti
I love absolutely everything about this book. I've never read anything by Sheila Heti before, but the premise hooked me: she took over ten years' of diary entries, arranged the sentences in alphabetical order and kept the ones that worked. It's a fascinating way to approach telling the story of a life, and it works brilliantly. Free from the order of chronology, clear themes emerge: love, work, sex, writing, friendship, travel, self-doubt. I loved sinking into the rhythm of the language every time I picked it up.
Fire Exit, by Morgan Talty
I haven't YET read Night of the Living Rez but after reading Talty's debut novel, I can't wait to go back to it. Fire Exit is a fairly slim novel that covers a lot of territory: belonging, community, identity, family, forgiveness, and the importance of stories, as well as the question of who gets to tell them, and when. I loved it.
There's Always This Year: On Basketball and Ascension, by Hanif Abdurraquib
I am not ever going to pick up a book because it's about basketball, but for someone who cares not much at all for sportsball I've picked up -- and loved -- a surprising number of books about it because they're written in sentences that make me care, and also because they're never really just about basketball. This book is the work of a poet, and I loved it. I couldn't read it without a pen in my hand to underline what resonated.
Home Before Dark, by Riley Sager
Almost two stars because it was fun to read for a day, kind of, clunky writing aside -- but listen, I scare easily, I WANTED to be kind of scared, and all I did was roll my eyes. The ending is what knocked it down to 1.
The Only Survivors, by Megan Miranda
A fun and atmospheric mystery/thriller of the sort I always reach for at the beginning or the end of a school year, consumed in a single weekend. I'll forget the details quickly, probably, but it delivered what I needed. (Recommended if you also understand what I mean!)
Sing a Rhythm, Dance a Blues, by Monique W. Morris
Like I wrote when I read Pushout: The Criminalization of Black Girls in Schools...I wish every educator would read this, but actually, also, everyone who claims to care about what happens in classrooms or everyone with an educator in their life.
A River Runs Through It and Other Stories, by Norman Maclean
It was time I read this. (I highly recommend Kathryn Schulz's article in The New Yorker.)
The Bee Sting, by Paul Murray
Well, it's brilliant and I don't care what anyone says about the ending. I couldn't put this one down and Paul Murray is a genius, the end.
Chain Gang All-Stars, by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah
A lesser author wouldn't have been able to pull this off, but Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah is seriously brilliant. And part of that brilliance is writing a book this bleak that somehow manages to be so entertaining at the same time. And I mean this literally; as a reader and as a human, the premise of this story is horrifying and real, and I can't imagine not feeling a little sick from the beginning. It's a brutal glimpse into the US prison complex, and even though it's a future/alternate reality kind of dystopia, it feels absolutely immediate, requiring little imagination to picture this as a current reality. The entertainment factor is the horror, and it's also the point. Giri Nathan writes in The New York Times, "You cannot applaud his debut novel, 'Chain-Gang All-Stars,' without getting blood on your hands. To enjoy the action is to share in the guilt of the bloodthirsty fans sitting ringside at the live-broadcast death matches between prison inmates. Adjei-Brenyah is so good at writing fight scenes that our moral disgust never definitively stamps out the primitive thrill of reading them." I couldn't stop reading once I'd started, I wept at the end, and I thought about my own complicity in the systems that made this book possible all along.
The Last Fire Season, by Manjula Martin
It seems fitting that I read this gorgeously written memoir on a summer road trip from Washington through Idaho and Montana, where smoke hung in the air every day and haze settled over the mountains and lakes. This has become an expected part of our summers, but it seems to happen earlier every year, and linger longer.
The God of the Woods, by Liz Moore
I enjoyed Long Bright River a few years ago, so when I saw her latest was a mystery set at a summer camp in 1975 I was all in. Perfect summer reading. Liz Moore reminds me quite a bit of Tana French; she delivers a compelling and character-driven story I want to read straight through, and I genuinely enjoy her writing (which is not something I expect or need from most mysteries I check out from the library when I need something to distract my brain for a couple of days).
Headshot, by Rita Bullwinkel
I never would have picked this up had it not been longlisted for the Booker, and I simply loved this story about women's youth boxing. (This weird thing seems to happen to me often, where I fall in love with books about some sport I don't care about at all, or even think I actively dislike, but of course it's always about so much more.) I loved the writing and it reminded me a lot of Lorrie Moore, which makes sense since Bullwinkel thanked her in the acknowledgements.
Everyone Here is Lying, by Shari Lapina
It's probably not fair for me to review this ridiculous mess of a book so soon after reading a mystery like The God of the Woods. I thought it was trying to be a combination of We Need to Talk About Kevin and The Push and Gone Girl. Two stars because it was entertaining and only took me a day to read.
Same as it Ever Was, by Claire Lombardo
I really enjoyed Lombardo's The Most Fun We Ever Had, and this book began with that same promise -- I do love a sprawling family saga with great characterization. But this one kind of went off the rails for me a little over halfway through and it became a bit of a slog to finish. I also wish Lombardo would have hit a little harder on the protagonist's background instead of making this such a story of suburban white privilege. Still, I wept at the ending, and Lombardo is a fun writer to read, and I read all 500 pages in five days.
Things We Lost in the Fire, by Mariana Enriquez
Really excellent collection, really unsettling. Megan McDowell writes in her Translator's Note, "What there is of gothic horror in [these stories] mingles with and is intensified by their sharp social criticism." Indeed, this book addresses issues such as mental illness, pollution, poverty, toxic marital relationships, and what it's like to move through the world as a woman or a teenage girl. It's gritty and visceral and so many of the stories leave the reader wondering whether something "really" happened or whether darker supernatural elements are at play.
Shae, by Mesha Maren
I love Mesha Maren's prose, I love her characters and the way she amplifies voices that are often overlooked, and I love Shae's voice.
Tell Me Everything, by Elizabeth Strout
"Love comes in so many different forms, but it is always love. If it is love, then it is love."
If you've loved Olive Kitteridge (who continues to be fabulously cantankerous at ninety-one), Lucy Barton, or the Burgess brothers, you're in for a treat. This is a quiet story until you realize it really is just everything. It was the perfect -- and I really do mean the perfect -- book for me to read right now, at this point in my life, and I think it will be a perfect book to return to for years to come.
Without Exception: Reclaiming Abortion, Personhood, and Freedom, by Pam Houston
"The freedom to control what happens to one's own body is not only the foundation for gender equality, it's the foundation upon which all other human rights are built...therefore, bodily autonomy is always a thing worth talking about."
Pam Houston is a writer I love and respect on so many levels and this one is worth purchasing and reading immediately.
Warrior Girl Unearthed, by Angeline Boulley
Really loved the story, maybe even more than The Firekeeper's Daughter, but it sort of spiraled into a "what is even happening so fast and wait how are we now at the end" situation. (If you liked The Firekeeper's Daughter I absolutely recommend it, though.)
One Perfect Couple, by Ruth Ware
Temptation Island meets Lord of the Flies.
Orbital, by Samantha Harvey
I loved this in a way I didn't expect, and I don't know if I'd have picked it up if Harvey hadn't made the Booker shortlist (and then the longlist). It reminds me of reading Virginia Woolf and I loved every single sentence.
All Friends are Necessary, by Tomas Moniz
This is a hug in the form of a novel. A book that seems so largely about grief could have broken my heart, but it expanded it instead, and it shows how joy and grief and love and loss coexist. I needed to read this at precisely this moment in my life, but I also can't imagine a moment in my life when this wouldn't be true.
If Beale Street Could Talk, by James Baldwin
The thing about Baldwin is -- oh, who am I to actually say what it is? He's everything. But this is everything I love about the best literature, about the authors and works I teach. When students ask, "Why do we have to read about____" all the time, I might say, because we read to understand ourselves, what motivates us, what drives human behavior. Because all art is political. Because if all you take away from a deeply human story is the trauma, you miss the redemption, the hope. Baldwin writes straight to the heart of injustice, but also community and love. I'm not sure I've ever read a writer who understands love like he does.
The Maltese Falcon, by Dashiell Hammett
November 2024 was a perfect month to read some classic noir. Great distraction from the dumpster fire that is our country, and also -- the cinematic writing is pretty fabulous. (And then, yes, I watched the movie.)
The Next Mrs Parrish, by Liv Constantine
I mean, this was ridiculous. I hated the ending of The Last Mrs. Parrish SO MUCH -- I mean, it actually made me angry -- that I can't tell you what prompted me to pick up this one, EXCEPT that someone I love mentioned it and I was like, fine. And it was kind of terrible in a fun way (which is what I sometimes want in a weekend library book). AND it was pretty satisfying, and removed some of the bad taste leftover from the first book.
(Is there going to be a Mrs. Parrish #3? I think the door might be open for one, but with one of the most horrible characters kind of out of the picture ("kind of" is intentional here, like, this person isn't DEAD but might as well be), I'm not sure how well it would work. Then again, I never expected a Mrs. Parrish #2, either.
Intermezzo, by Sally Rooney
This took me longer to read than I planned, but I think it's because of when I read it (chaotic weeks in December leading up to break) and not because of the book itself, which I ultimately loved.
Darkly, by Marisha Pessl
Three stars because nothing Marisha Pessl has written has lived up to Special Topics in Calamity Physics for me, but it was an awfully fun book to bring on vacation.
*
Here are my audiobooks for 2024--not a lot because I'm mostly a podcast girl in the car, which is where I listen to things these days:
Counting the Cost, by Jill Duggar
I listened to this on a road trip and found it compelling, though Jill Duggar still has some (or a lot of) deconstructing to do. Jim Bob is as horrible as I imagined, and this is a pretty solid companion to the Shiny Happy People documentary.
Becoming Free Indeed: My Story of Disentangling Faith From Fear, by Jinger Duggar
Nope.
Come and Get It, by Kiley Reid
I don't normally enjoy literary fiction on audio, but Kiley Reid is an exception. She has an impeccable ear for dialogue that works well in the audio version, and her pacing is perfect.
The Exvangelicals: Loving, Living, and Leaving the White Evangelical Church, by Sarah McCammon
I was raised in a pretty mainstream Christian church in the 90s and much of this is still intensely relatable.
They Came for the Schools: One Town's Fight Over Race and Identity, and the New War for America's Classrooms, by Mike Hixenbaugh
Obviously I want everyone who's NOT a teacher to listen to this, but also...I want teachers to listen as well, especially teachers in blue states where we can too easily become complacent. Oh, hey! I'm dealing with my first parent challenge to my curriculum in a long time, by the way. I'm lucky to have my district's support. I'd be fired six ways from Sunday in many other states if I didn't comply.
There's a podcast about this worth listening to as well -- check out Southlake.
The Quiet Damage: Q-Anon and the Destruction of the American Family, by Jessalyn Cook
Powerful, poignant, sad -- but not without hope. (I have to believe that.)
*
I'm starting 2025 with Safiya Sinclair's brilliant memoir How to Say Babylon, and my reading list is long already. How about you?
The Quiet Damage: Q-Anon and the Destruction of the American Family, by Jessalyn Cook
Powerful, poignant, sad -- but not without hope. (I have to believe that.)
*
I'm starting 2025 with Safiya Sinclair's brilliant memoir How to Say Babylon, and my reading list is long already. How about you?
