My favorite reads of 2024

A banner year for five-star reads

We made it through the holidays. I feel like I barely did. We had so many gatherings spread over such a short amount of time, I could feel my social battery draining. I had dreams of being holed up somewhere far away, eating Christmas dinner in a small corner restaurant while outside it snows. That or in my bed with a good book and my phone off which is my ideal way to spend a holiday and how I spent so much of 2024.

This was another great reading year. In fact, I read so many good books this year that this list will be quite long. I attribute this to the fact that I know what I like to read and whose recommendations I trust. As Brandon Taylor put it in his end-of-year reading wrap up, “You either believe in your own taste or you don’t.” And I believe fully in my own taste. I hope you believe in yours. What a gift it is.

My own good taste lead me to rate 50 of the books I read this year as five-star reads. Another 17 were four star reads although looking back at that list there are several I would actually bump up to five. It’s funny how perceptions of a read changes over time.

This is the first year I earnestly tracked my reading on apps (Goodreads & StoryGraph) which I feel largely neutral about. Previous years my lists lived in notebooks stacked in my box of important documents or on the Notes app on my phone. I don't think I care to move them all over to apps as I found the app part of tracking mundane and emotionally detached. I mostly used these apps for spying on what my friends were reading so I could add even more books to my TBR list or to read five star reviews of books I loved (or one star reviews of books I didn’t enjoy or put down).

There were still a few DNF books this year. Considerably less than previous years and not because I powered through the bad reads— although there was still some of that. Mostly because I can judge whether a book is for me quickly (based on the publisher, synopsis, who blurbed it, who recommended it, and a quick skim of the first few pages). While I am predisposed to lapses of negativity, that’s not the environment I want to foster here so I’ll keep the one-star reads and DNFs to myself—unless you ask. I’ll always divulge.

So with no further delay, here are, in no significant order:

My most beloved books of 2024

The Mountain Lion by Jean Stafford: This was the first book I started in 2024. I have a tradition of starting a book on December 31st with the intention of finishing it on January 1. Last year I read The Road to the City by Natalia Ginzburg, and then when I was done on January 1, I picked up The Mountain Lion. I read this on New Years day in one sitting, my limbs falling asleep as I sat uncomfortably on the futon for hours. Set in the 1920s, it centers around two siblings, Molly and Ralph, who are sent to live with their uncle in Colorado. It is devastating. It’s scrappy. It is beautiful. It made me want to call my sister and make her lay on the couch with me, our legs intertwined while we watch sad movies. I didn’t sit with the book long because the hole it left needed to be filled, quickly.

The Children’s Bach by Helen Garner: I don’t think this recommendation is for everyone. If you are looking for a plotty, straightforward read, this isn’t for you. There is a cast of characters through whom the story is told, and if I remember correctly, it’s told in a confusing shift in perspective at times—Athena and Dexter (a couple), Elizabeth (Dexter’s college friend), Philip (Elizabeth’s boyfriend), and Vicki (Elizabeth’s sister). Although these characters are messy, they are so clearly defined and explored. There are misunderstandings and love triangles, and yet the book has such clarity. This was the first time I read Garner and my love for The Children’s Bach made me pick up a copy of her book Monkey Grip which I ended up putting down because it just wasn’t the same.

Pond by Claire-Louise Bennett: This book was not on my radar until I heard an internet friend/former BookTuber say (and I am paraphrasing here or perhaps I’m making this up entirely—if so, Rebecca forgive me) that she was afraid to read this book because she didn’t know if she was smart enough. She did it. She was smart enough. It’s a triumph for us all. I knew I had to read it. Pond is not a linear or plotty novel (sensing a theme here). It is full of domestic detail and rich, descriptive prose. The pacing is slow and present. It felt like spending the day with your weirdest friend or talking to yourself throughout the day. It felt significant to me as I spend a lot of time alone, or if I’m not alone, I’m in a world of my own in my head. Another internet friend who recently attended December’s Thursday Evening Craft Club said she rereads it every year and it feels like the perfect book for that ritual. I lent out my copy but once I get it back I will absolutely be reading it again. If you want a delicious bite of good prose, this is the book for you. You are smart enough for it.

The Long Form by Kate Briggs (Honorable mention goes to This Little Art): I never shy away from a bold proclamation so I’ll say it: this was my favorite book of the year. I love this book for it’s plot (a young mother and her baby move about a day, become interrupted by the delivery of a copy of Henry Fielding’s The History of Tom Jones, causing the day to crack open and the book to expand into wider discussions on art, literature, friendship, and caregiving and more and more and more). There was a complicated friendship dynamic which I love. The form of the book was brilliant. If you are a writer, I feel like this book is a great example of what you can do with a novel. It’s its own craft class. If you have ever felt boxed in by what a novel can and can’t be, you should read this. Everyone should read this. Kate Briggs is brilliant. If you are interested in the art of translating, I would also recommend her book This Little Art which I also read this year and underlined into oblivion.

Still Born by Guadalupe Nettel (Translated by Rosalind Harvey): One thing that books don’t explore enough is maternal ambivalence. This novel explores it, not through the lens of a couple, but through the experience of two friends, both in their mid thirties. One friend is certain she does not want kids. The other is beginning to feel a creep of desire to become a mother. It becomes a whole hell of a lot more complicated than that.

I love a book where people are allowed to change their mind and grow but not in expected, prescribed ways.

I stated in my last newsletter that I’d love to read a book in Spanish again, and my brother-in-law’s girlfriend Maria bought me a copy of this book in Spanish (La hija única) for Christmas. It was a book gift that immediately made me feel understood (thanks, Maria!). I put it on the top of my 2025 read stack.

Woman Running in the Mountains by Yuko Tsushima (Translated by Geraldine Harcourt): I bought this during a NYRB sale after reading the first line of the synopsis. “Alone at dawn, in the heat of midsummer, a young woman named Takiko Odaka departs on foot for the hospital to give birth to a baby boy.” I saw the fact that Lauren Groff wrote an introduction to be a good omen because I like books she recommends despite not liking any of her books *yet*. I did not know at the time that I bought this book, that Yuko Tsushima was the daughter of Japanese novelist Osamu Dazai which is even more intriguing. Woman Running in the Mountains was poetic, solitary, well narrated. A friend has my copy but I do plan to read it again in 2025.

Neapolitan Novels by Elena Ferrante: A little late to the party, I have tried to read My Brilliant Friend several times. My most recent attempt, before this year’s success, was on a day trip to a lake with my mom and it is just not the right read for that setting. These books are dense. There’s a glossary of characters to get acquainted with. There are multiple Ninos. The main characters, Lenu and Lila, have such similar names. It’s difficult to drop yourself into the story but if you just turn your brain off and trust that if you throw yourself into the story you’ll find your feet, you will be so richly rewarded. I would be lying if I didn’t say the real reason I didn’t read this for a long time is because the cover art is awful and for some reason reminded me of this horrific book called A Child Called ‘It’ that I read in middle school and stayed with me in very bad way. It’s nothing like that.

Seasonal Quartet by Ali Smith: I started this quartet out of order— with Winter, which I bought on my residency to Scotland not knowing there was an order to these things and that I was out of it. I read Winter in winter of 2023 and began again with Autumn in January of this year following it in the appropriate order with Spring and Summer. I love when works speak to one another. I loved the dialogue and the wordy nature of Smiths’ writing. I love that she writes how she speaks. Listen to her lecture. It’s dizzying. I felt invested in the characters and the weirdness. Winter was another one of those books, like My Brilliant Friend where I had to drop myself in and trust I’d figure out where the story was headed. That seems to be a theme to my reading. Trust the process. I feel this is a solid recommendation to my artsy friends who live in their heads. I would recommend this to fans of British TV, current events, and intergenerational friendships.

My Work by Olga Ravn: I had this book on my ever-expanding list of books I’m looking for at used bookstores and then I walked into Dogtown Books in Gloucester, MA on a business trip/visit to my friend Maia, and found a copy along with 15 other books from my list. I loved how much this book relied on other primary texts. It made me want to read more. Sort of like how reading Want by Lynn Steger Strong made me want to read every other book the main character was reading. I also loved how much My Work shifted in form—from prose to poetry to diary entries. I loved how much I learned about Mary Shelley. It keeps with my love of books about motherhood. I love a smart mother, a detached mother, a mother who is complicated, a funny mother. This mother was all that and more.

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Bronte: This was a strong recommendation from my friend Andrew whose taste I trust implicitly. This is an under appreciated work in the collective Bronte oeuvre. At least I think so. I had never had another person strongly recommend this besides Andrew, and they have strong opinions about this book. While I’ve not read a lot from any of the Brontes, I was so impressed with the strength and decisiveness and wit of Helen, the main character, I was cheering her on in my comments in the margins of the page (while dragging her husband in the same marginalia). If you are a fan of classics or want to read more classics, pick this up. You won’t be disappointed. I’d love to be able to talk to more friends about this book.

The Sea, The Sea by Iris Murdoch— Like the Elena Ferrante series, I started this book so many times in the last decade. I was first handed this book by an ex’s mom who said, “This is the best thing I’ve ever read.” It came with me back to Pennsylvania. I took it to Colorado. I traveled with it to Scotland. Each time I had the intention to read it and then bought more books. Now that I’ve finished it, I can’t believe it took so many tries. The narrator, Charles Arrowby, lacks self awareness in the best way. There is a great cast of characters—exes appear around every corner. The story is absurd, messy, and layered. It is very funny. It’s high drama. The book is so very British. I am only disappointed I didn’t read The Sea, The Sea the moment it was handed to me.

Looking ahead to a new year of reading

2025 is upon us and I am mulling over some reading goals. The top one is to savor reading more. I read so rapidly, so often, and without stopping to consider why I liked a book, and I’d like to work on being more present and retaining more information on each book I read.

A continued goal from the last three years is it prioritize translations, a goal I got away from this year, at least more so than the previous two years. I’m also excited to explore more philosophy and poetry books. Also more classics.

But mostly, as always, my goal is to continue to be awestruck by reading.

I do wonder if I need to read less in order to ramp up my writing? I will report back on that.

Speaking of writing…

It’s not to late to sign up for my mindless writing class

This class is already filling up with some incredible folks eager to write mindlessly and perhaps work on developing a writing practice for the new year. It’s not too late to secure your spot! Just respond to this email or comment below to add your name to the list. The drop in fee is $35 or you can subscribe to the paid version of this newsletter for a discounted monthly drop in rate if you think you’d like to attend more writing classes this year. Subscribing to the newsletter for free is always an option as well.

I hope that everyone has a relaxing end to their year and a safe, healthy, and happy 2025. Now, I am going to spend the rest of my day hiking on the Appalachian with my good friend Mary. I hope you get to do something equally enjoyable. Perhaps you will read a book!

Until next year,

CM