I truly love every genre. It's one of the things I like most about myself, though I understand many bookworms have more tailored taste. My favorite books range across the fiction and nonfiction spectrum -- from fantasy and sci-fi, to ethnography and memoirs, to romance and young adult. It's a big reason why I've been a consistent and avid reader my entire life. My reading horizons are endless, and my next five star read could be under any topic, which makes it even more exciting to explore all the book world has to offer.
I've written a top books of every genre post before, but that was five years ago, and damn, have the last five years really changed me. I've switched jobs, traveled the world, gained new friends, moved into an apartment on my own, gotten my heart broken, said goodbye to my childhood dog, and experienced the devastating grief of losing my dad. I've also read some of the best books of my life, and my experiences with these stories were greatly effected by what was happening to me personally. I know that certain books hit hard because of the stage of life I was in and what was taking up a big part of my heart and mind. It's something I love about reading and rereading books --- my favorite books feel like an author writing a love letter to me personally, a snapshot of what my life looked and felt like in the moment. And if I ever want to be reminded of those moments, of who I was, and what mattered to me most, I can always revisit these treasured stories.
Don't forget, you can always send me a recommendation request to get specific book recs that I think you'll love, no matter the genre.
FICTION
Contemporary Fiction: Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin
This was one of my favorite reads of 2022, the year I read 100 books, and the year I lost my dad. While books about loss and grief hit close to home that year, so did books about friendship. I couldn't have gotten through that year without my incredible friends, and I feel insanely grateful that I have a handful of people who were there for me through my darkest moments. Although I've always put a great deal of value and effort into my friendships, grief made me realize that great friends are the best part about life, that they can get you through anything, even if they change and evolve in unpredictable ways.
Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow follows two childhood friends, Sam and Sadie, as they work their way through life and eventually begin working on video games together. That is the basic premise, but holy shit is this book so ridiculously engaging and intricate. I truly believe fiction lacks strong and nontoxic friendships, so when I find instances where it's done well, I fall in love.
Sam and Sadie are unique characters that aren't the most likable but are flawed in a way that's realistic and captivating. They continuously struggle throughout the book with communication, which isn't uncommon in the real world. People in their lives often question why they're not romantically involved, and both explain that their friendship doesn't have to be sexual in order to be significant. It is such a refreshing take on male and female friendship. I also really enjoyed the video game creation storyline. The way Zevin builds the world, both in their reality and in their video games, is utterly fascinating and absorbing.
Although this isn't a small book, it captures the reader's attention and holds it firmly throughout the entire story. I would recommend this book to anyone who loves fiction, but especially if you enjoy playing video games. What a strange marriage of the two vices, but what a feat of literature.
Classics: Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
Classics can often get a bad rep because they may feel inaccessible to the general reader. I have certainly picked up a classic, read about 50 pages, and then put it down because it felt way too dense or esoteric for me to understand or enjoy. But I recognize how wonderful an intelligible classic can be --- they remind us that we share so much with the people of the past, that their problems look similar to our own, and their hope and resilience can be felt and replicated no matter when it's read.
Jane Eyre is the story of an orphan girl who deals with abuse and neglect for most of her childhood, but somehow finds beauty in the world, molding her into an independent and hopeful young woman. When she gets a job as a governess at an estate run by the broody Mr. Rochester, she must rely on her resiliency to wade through the complicated history and romance with Mr. Rochester.
I read this classic in high school and was shocked at how engaging and relatable it felt. Jane is a flawed character --- she can be naive and too trusting, but she has a strength that is admirable and inspiring without feeling too contrived. As a teenage girl, I felt a kinship with Jane, and cheered her on for every step of her journey. The romance is enough to be intriguing, but it's the haunting mystery that kept me glued to the page.
If you're looking to dip your toe into classics, I couldn't recommend Jane Eyre enough.
I thoroughly enjoy a good mystery but find that the ones I've been recommended on social media often feel similar to one another and leave me dissatisfied. Once There Were Wolves had a more unique premise that I found intriguing when I first picked it up.
Inti Flynn is a biologist who moves to Scotland to continue her attempt at reintroducing wolves back into different wildlife areas. Inti also has a rare neurological condition called mirror-touch synesthesia, complicating her professional and personal life. Her brain makes her believe she is physically feeling the sensory experiences of other beings and animals. If she watches a deer get gutted by a hunter, she feels the knife going through herself as well. All of this, in addition to secrets that are revealed slowly throughout the story, mold Inti into a private and overly cautious woman. But she begins to open herself up to friendship and love in this little Scottish town, until the mysterious death of a local pushes her to protect the things she loves most.
The mood and tone of this book was spectacular. I was glued to the page, both by McConaghy's beautiful descriptions of the wolves and native lands of Scotland, and the captivating storyline that weaves in and out of timelines. I felt like the characters were realistic and fleshed out. Inti is a flawed but likable character ---- I held onto the hope that she would find peace and happiness in the end. There are twists and turns, and I felt that secrets were revealed at perfect points in the story. Some readers may find certain scenes disturbing or gruesome, so a warning there, but I was able to get lost in Inti's world, which is exactly what I hope for in a mystery.
Dark Matter has one of the most unique and mind-bending storylines I have ever read. It follows a brilliant scientist as he questions the decisions he has made in his life and where it has brought him. He has a wife and son he loves dearly, but at times feels like he gave up a different, more successful life in the field of physics. The central theme is one every reader can relate to, but Crouch goes deeper when he chooses to explore the question of "Are you happy in your life?" The story goes down the insane rabbit hole of the multi-verse, the idea that there are infinite universes existing at this very moment, and how each decision we make alters the universe just a little bit.
I remember staying up until 3 AM to finish this book because I absolutely could not put it down, which is crucial in a thriller. And the ending did not disappoint. I sat by myself for days contemplating the nature of my reality, and all the decisions I've made that have led me to where I am today, and what would be different if I had decided differently. It's a mighty feat for a book to make me feel all those feels, but Dark Matter did and did it beautifully. I have no doubt that no matter what genre you enjoy, you will get snatched up by this book.
I will never stop recommending this novel. It will always be relevant, it will always be impactful, it will always be a masterpiece. I can't scream about it enough.
Gone with the Wind is the infamous tale of Scarlett O'Hara and her epic story of love, loss, and resilience before, during, and after the American Civil War. Margaret Mitchell was able to write an entire saga around one of fiction's most disliked characters, and still somehow make her sympathetic. Scarlett O'Hara is charming, disdainful, prideful, and at times, cruel. As a spoiled woman brought up in the privilege of a slave-owning South, there are so many reasons to hate Scarlett. But she feels real, she feels tangible, she is human. When her comfortable Southern life gets burned by the Civil War, she is left with nothing but her family and her precious land named Tara. She has to find a way to take care of her family and those who depend on her, while also grappling with the incredible pain and loss the war has inflicted upon the entire country. As a woman in the 19th century, her resilience and stubbornness is inspiring. I heard almost nothing about the women of the Civil War in school or growing up, and reading her story helped me understand the full scope the war had on Americans. There is almost no character I admire more in fiction than Scarlett O'Hara. I don't have to like her, but damnit do I respect her. She does everything she can to save herself, her family, and her land. She demands the attention of readers, as well as the men who surround her, and she is unforgettable.
This book made me weep, like snot dripping down my face weep, and although some may hate the controversial ending, I absolutely loved it. The last line is "after all, tomorrow is another day," and those closing words have never left me.
This genre may not be a typical one, but it's one of my favorites in fiction. I absolutely love a thick, juicy family drama that spans years and sheds light on each family member.
This multi-generational novel dives deep into the Sorenson family, a suburban Chicago family with four daughters. The book jumps back and forth between the years of 1970, when the parents Marilyn and David met, and the present day when all girls are fully grown with their own families. The story goes through each character's life, looking at the same situation from several perspectives.
Claire Lombardo is an extraordinary writer and writes with a level of wisdom and poignancy I rarely see. To be able to write from a mother's perspective, then a father's, then one daughter's, and have it all make sense and feel so real is an amazing feat, and she does it with ease. Each character is so distinct in their voice, and while I was worried in the beginning of being able to differentiate between the four daughters, I quickly realized that each woman was unique and recognizable, and so I never got confused. Instead, I grew to have such weirdly intense emotions about each character. I absolutely adored Marilyn and David, applauded Jonah, had empathy for Liza, felt an affinity for Grace, was sympathetic though sometimes annoyed at Wendy, and freaking detested Violet.
I'm not used to reading stories about the struggles of privileged middle-class America. It was an often uncomfortable read because I couldn't believe how spoiled and selfish the daughters could be when their lives had so much support and love. But that's what makes this book so astounding ---- it pulled anger and frustration out of me because I was trying to understand characters who were so ridiculously flawed. And that's what happens to us constantly in real life. We try to understand the ones we love but are often left disappointed or confused, and even hurt.
But when Lombardo would dive into the emotional depth of each character, she dove so deep that I was honestly shocked. So many things rang true for me, as a daughter, as a friend, as a sister. I couldn't believe that Lombardo was able to articulate so many of life's confusing emotions, and in a way that was relatable yet beautiful. There were countless times where I had to stop reading, put my hand on my chest, and take a breath because I was overwhelmed by my reaction and the palpable emotion that was coursing through me.
The Most Fun We Ever Had spoke to my soul in a way most books don't ---- it went deep into the messy and uncomfortable parts of life and love and family. It made me call family to tell them I love and appreciate them. It made me feel grateful for the people in my life and the support I have. It made me view the world differently, perhaps with a little more kindness and compassion.
Romance: People We Meet on Vacation by Emily Henry
For me, Emily Henry is the queen of the romance genre. I've read every single one of her books and enjoyed them all. This book happens to take my top romance spot because it was the first of her books I read, and I came across it at a time that felt poignant.
The story follows two best friends from college in two different timelines --- one from the past and one from the present. Alex and Poppy kept up their precious friendship over the years by meeting up for a vacation at least once a year. But something happened that caused them to drift away, and each chapter brings the reader closer to finding out what went wrong.
I feel like this book needs the context of when I read it. It was about a month after my dad passed, and I was on my annual beach trip with some of my best friends, which I look forward to every year. I had purchased the book from a used bookstore the year before, but wanted to wait to read it on a vacation, of course.
There's something about the friends to lovers trope that hits right with me. It feels more realistic to me when two people get to know each other without immediate chemistry and romance. Many relationships in romance books feel weird, forced, or overly sexual. The connection between Alex and Poppy feels so warm and familiar, and the love that blossoms between them feels natural, which for me, feels rare for the genre.
This book enveloped me in its fictional world, and made me forget about my broken heart for just a little bit, all while on a warm beach with my closest friends. If possible, I highly recommend the same setting if you plan to read this book.
Fantasy: The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern
The soul-filling magic that a great fantasy story brings me is the reason I started reading in the first place. I vividly remember my mom reading me the first Harry Potter book when I was four years old, in her lovely Polish accent, and I got hooked immediately. There is something about knowing a story isn't real that strangely makes it that more personal.
The Starless Sea centers around Zachary Ezra Rawlins, an introverted graduate student who is way too into his books and love of reading (sound familiar?). He discovers a mysterious book in his school library and reads something that shakes him to his core: a story from his own childhood. He begins a desperate search to find out how his own life came to be recorded in a book, and that search leads him to a secret club, an ancient library in New York, and a magical world that is hidden beneath the surface of the earth. Zachary learns of the sacrifices countless souls have made to preserve the sanctity of story-telling, and he begins to realize he may have to make a similar sacrifice.
The Starless Sea has everything I adore about fantasy ---- a story rooted in magical realism, a main character obsessed with books and adventure, and the most enchanting prose I ever read. Time and time again, this book filled me with that giddy, heart-skipping excitement that I get when I read a story that makes me feel like the fantastical is hidden behind a door that I have yet to discover. I feel like a child again when I read books like this one, hopeful that magic exists if I'm observant enough to find it. Honestly, if I were to write a fictional book, it would be extremely close to this one, and the fact that I was able to dive into a story that speaks to my book-loving soul was the most marvelous reading experience I've had in a long time.
If you're anything like me and relish the possibility that magic exists right under our noses, I think you will love this book.
Project Hail Mary is one of those rare books where the first page immediately grabs you, and keeps your attention throughout the entire journey. It is one of the best books I've ever read.
The story follows Ryland Grace, who realizes after waking up from a medically induced coma, that he is the sole survivor of a space mission to save Earth from destruction. He is millions of miles from home, and feels the crushing weight of being alone in the galaxy he is hurtling through --- until he learns he might not be as alone as he thought.
I am floored by Andy Weir. How can a guy know so much about science, math, and physics yet also be able to write the most perfect science fiction novel to ever exist? His writing is so rare for the genre --- it is sarcastic, engaging, has emotional depth, and had moments I laughed and cried. I felt so connected to the two main characters. The plot was clever yet reasonable (as reasonable as a journey in outer space can be). The ending was perfect, perfect. I cried so many beautiful tears. The friendship in this book is one of my favorites of all time. This story encompasses what it means to have empathy, to sacrifice, to love, and to care deeply and wholly.
Project Hail Mary reminded me why I love science fiction so much. A great sci-fi book can feel more real than nonfiction. It can engross you in its world, yet make you feel more connected to reality and those around you, giving you hope for the future of our world. I truly believe anyone would love this book, no matter what genres usually capture your attention or what season of life you're in ---- it's a modern masterpiece for everyone.
NONFICTION
Colin Jost, one of the hosts of SNL's Weekend Update, isn't necessarily someone I was super familiar with before reading his memoir. I haven't kept up with SNL in years, and the times I have watched Weekend Update, I wasn't crazy about his humor or demeanor. However, I've enjoyed memoirs quite a bit over the last few years and one of my friends raved about this one and I wanted something that could make me laugh.
This now one of my favorite comedy books of all time. I listened to the audiobook version, which I definitely recommend, and was shocked at how engrossing Colin's stories were. He talks about his upbringing on Staten Island, going to a fancy private school, getting into Harvard, and finding his way to SNL. All of those facts might deter you from picking this up (it certainly made me wonder how I could relate to a guy like this), but please reconsider. I laughed out loud so many times, I even cried a few times. The story of his mother as the Chief Medical Officer of the NYFD during 9/11 really moved me (that's where the tears came in). His ridiculous antics kept me entertained and engaged the entire book, and I don't know if I've ever enjoyed a memoir quite as much.
If you're in a slump, or need a companion on your daily drives or walks, I highly recommend A Very Punchable Face.
If you follow my Goodreads or are one of my close friends, you'll know I've always loved personal development books, ranging from health and wellness to productivity to rest. They can teeter on the line of gimmicky, but it's always been a favorite morning ritual of mine to read a chapter of a personal development book with my coffee. Stay tuned for a whole post on my favorite Personal Development books.
This straight-forward, easy to read guide to building better habits is amazing because it actually gives concrete steps and ideas on how to build routines to be successful. If you're struggling to find balance or to instill healthy habits, it's probably not you — it's your systems. James Clear understands that people need to start small and build upon a foundation in order to see results. I used to think that goals were reached with drastic changes and big ideas, but now I know better. When you start small, you don't feel overwhelmed and you're more likely to stick to a routine if it feels easy and enjoyable. If you've got some big goals for this year, definitely pick up this book to get guidance on how to achieve them.
For me, the best sports books are able to educate and inspire readers. They should evoke that same feeling you get when seeing your favorite team play or even when watching Remember the Titans --- a feeling of magic, excitement, and possibility.
Even if you're not a runner, I have no doubt you would find inspiration from this book. It's an unusual mix of human evolution, memoir, and ethnography, but it somehow is executed perfectly.
In Born to Run, McDougall effortlessly moves from talking about his own struggle with running injuries, to the science behind movement, to the practices and culture of the Tarahumara Indians, and finally about an off-the-cuff road race he pulled together in Mexico. However, if you are a runner or would like to do more of it, you need to read this book. It made me appreciate my body and its potential, and I feel like evolution is on my side whenever I lace up my running shoes and head out the door.
This book became a favorite of mine by the second chapter. Some of the best books I've read in the last few years have been memoirs, and when I discovered this was a story combining grief and exploring space, I knew I had to pick it up.
MIT astrophysicist Sara Seager chronicles her life, from gazing upon the stars when she was young, to dedicating her career to finding life and planets elsewhere in the universe, to building a family with her partner from college. When both her father and husband succumb to cancer, she struggles to grieve while taking care of her two young children and keep her career afloat.
It always amazes me when people can be incredibly intelligent, experts in their field, and somehow ridiculously talented writers. I have always had a love for the stars, and like Seager, still gaze upon them with reverence and wonder. The fact that Seager's story included the incredible determination to find exoplanets that could sustain or contain life made my nerdy, space-loving brain jump for joy. And yet, it's her story of grief, of losing people so precious to her, that shook me to my core. Seager's prose is direct, funny, somehow familiar. She speaks about grief in a way I have never been able to yet she could've taken the words from my own soul. She writes, “But when you lose someone, you don’t lose them all at once, and their dying doesn’t stop with their death. You lose them a thousand times in a thousand ways. You say a thousand goodbyes. You hold a thousand funerals.”
Books like The Smallest Lights in the Universe help me come to terms with the reality of grief. I never thought about it as holding funerals and saying goodbye a thousand times, but it is absolutely true. By Seager putting words to my pain, she told me she understands, it's okay, I'm not alone. And after all, isn't that the whole point?
While I have loved John Green since I was 15, this collection of essays hit me extremely hard because I read them when my dad got sick. I remember spending hours with him in the hospital as he received treatment, and at night, I would curl up with this book to help distract me from the incredible sadness and anxiety I was feeling. Soon, I realized this book wasn't an escape, and instead, it pulled me back into reality --- reality of the world, of humanity, but especially, of my own personal life.
The Anthropocene Reviewed was originally a podcast by Green. I'll link the podcast here but I never actually listened to it and I'm glad I didn't. I prefer reading people's personal words on a page, hearing their voice in my own head. It makes me feel more connected to them.
Green began this podcast and subsequently published this book during the pandemic, reviewing quirky and obscure topics like the QWERTY keyboard and sunsets and Canada geese and the city of Indianapolis, rating them on a scale of one to five. He talks about making a garden in the pandemic, wondering if we'll be able to save the earth from our own demise, and the typical existential humanitarian crises. Each essay is only a few pages long, and Green's writing is some of my favorite writing of all time ---- beautiful, poetic, direct, accessible, and soulful. I laughed out loud many times. I cried many times.
There's one essay in particular I want to highlight. It's titled "Auld Lang Syne," the famous song that people sing on New Years Eve. If you Google it, you'll know it. Green chronicles a precious friendship with his mentor Amy Krouse Rosenthal. Amy had a particular fascination with Auld Lang Syne because it was sung by soldiers in the trenches of World War I one Christmas Eve. The soldiers ---- whether English, Scottish, Prussian or German --- put down their weapons for one night and gathered to play soccer, exchange souvenirs, and sing this song. They began to sing this tune but instead with the words, "We're here because we're here because we're here because we're here."
Amy died of cancer in 2017, and Green reflects on why that song and story meant so much to her. He writes, "Although it's a profoundly nihilistic song written about the modernist hell of repetition, singing this song with Amy, I could always see the hope in it. It became a statement that we are here --- meaning that we are together, and not alone. And it's also a statement that we are, that we exist. And it's a statement that we are here, that a series of astonishing unlikelihoods has made us possible and here possible. We might never know why we are here, but we can still proclaim in hope that we are here. I don't think such hope is foolish or idealistic or misguided. We live in hope --- that life will get better, and more importantly, that it will go on, that love will survive even though we will not. And between now and then, we are here because we're here because we're here because we're here."
Those words crawled into my soul. They have been burned into me. They evoke a depth of response that shakes my core every single time I read them. These words hold my heavy grief in gentle hands, they tell me it's okay to feel sad and scared and yet, still hopeful.
My dad may be gone but the love I have for him will always live on. It grounds me, pulls me into the present moment, which feels fleeting but precious. Even though it's been almost three years since my dad passed, I still get lost in the pain, but books like The Anthropocene Reviewed remind me that life will get better, that it will go on, that love will survive even though we will not.
If you made it to the end of this incredibly long post, congratulations, I'm very impressed with your stamina. If you enjoyed it, consider subscribing with the form below to get notified by email when I publish a new post.
Happy reading, y'all.
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