My annual Goodreads goal is 100 books, which I normally hit with no problem. Alas, this year was an off year for me in terms of pure numbers. By the end of the day on December 31, I estimate I’ll have read 80 books total. Still, my 2018 reading year was full of really great stuff. Here, in no particular order, are the ten titles I loved best, the ones that most affected me and that I find myself recommending to friends, family, and library patrons over and over again.
Books for Teens
Blood Water Paint by Joy McCullough
McCullough’s debut novel is about Artemisia Gentileschi, a real painter from 17th century Rome who was raped as a teenager by a painter her father hired to tutor her. She chose to prosecute her rapist, participating in the trial – an even more rare and difficult thing then than it is now. The transcripts of the trial survive to this day. Blood Water Paint is mainly a verse novel, but McCullough skillfully threads prose sections featuring Artemisia’s mother, who died when she was a small child, telling her the stories of Biblical heroines Susannah and and Judith throughout. The real Artemisia painted these two women many times, in ways that show their strength and autonomy rather than their victimhood or vulnerability. The technique is successful, placing Artemisia in a context where she believes she, too, can choose to embrace her power where she can find it.
The book is not all about the rape, though. It’s also about art, specifically painting, and about Rome in the 1600s and how women and girls navigated the limited paths available to them. Artemisia’s voice is young, sometimes naive, but never oblivious. She’s intelligent, angry, unsure, and enormously talented. McCullough never makes her too “modern;” she was really as remarkable as the book makes her out to be. McCullough’s verse is a just reflection of Artemisia’s artistic ability: technically excellent, expressive, and innovative. Readers who finish the book wondering what happened to Artemisia afterward will be happy to know that she lived a long time, that she continued to paint, and that her work hangs in museums all over the world.
The Astonishing Color of After by Emily X. R. Pan
This book is so good, it’s the only title that can be found on both my and Kelly’s lists. I loved Pan’s writing, which is so lovely and lyrical and literary without becoming so dense that it’s a struggle to read. Her protagonist Leigh’s story of grief, infused with magical realism amidst her search for family and identity, is beautifully drawn. This is a thick book that flies by, a good crossover pick for literary-minded teens who don’t normally read genre fiction and vice versa.
The Place Between Breaths by An Na
An Na’s book is an example of the idea that the shorter a novel is, the more difficult it can be to unpack. The Place Between Breaths has a lot in common with The Astonishing Color of After on the surface: it’s about a mother with mental illness who disappeared or died, and the daughter left behind to heal. Na’s protagonist, Grace, helps her father in his work at a lab that’s dedicated to finding a cure for schizophrenia, the illness that took her mother away from her. But the story is also about a lot more, and it’s told by Na in pieces, out of order, from contradictory perspectives that require the reader to re-read and puzzle things out. The book’s structure is meant to be a reflection of the illness itself, and while I don’t have any personal ties to anyone with schizophrenia (that I know of), the feedback I’ve received from readers who do have the disease is positive. This is a book for someone who likes a challenging read, one that will surprise them and move them in equal measure.
Mirage by Somaiya Daud
I loved so much about this book: the irresistible hook (a girl from a conquered people is taken prisoner to be the body double of a hated princess), Daud’s lovely writing, the gradual deepening of the relationship between protagonist Amani and the princess Maram, the Moroccan-inspired setting in space and Amani’s people’s culture (clearly drawn from Daud’s own experiences but still unique to this story). It manages to be an exciting story that also tackles big themes of the evils of colonization and the possibility of redemption and change. And that cover is a stunner.
Not Even Bones by Rebecca Schaeffer
When it comes to horror, I’m much more likely to read books for teens than adults. I’m a bit squeamish (no horror movies for me at all!), and I find that YA horror novels usually have the right amount of scares for me. Rebecca Schaeffer did her best to prove me wrong – Not Even Bones is pretty gruesome, and it doesn’t shy away from describing in detail its setting of a market that sells body parts of unnaturals (humanoids with special abilities) and how those body parts are removed from and then used. The book is essentially an escape plot as our protagonist, Nita, finds herself imprisoned, awaiting sale in the market after freeing an unnatural her mother had planned to kill and sell for parts. I loved the relationship between Nita and her sometimes-ally Kovit, an unnatural who must eat human pain in order to survive. The plot is tense and exciting, with a fantastic twist near the end. Read my full review here.
Give the Dark My Love by Beth Revis
Revis’ book, a fantasy about an alchemist-in-training named Nedra who desperately searches for a cure to a wasting plague that is decimating her homeland, is a meditation on grief, and it’s heartbreaking and tragic and beautiful. Her writing is gorgeously mournful, telling the story of a good person’s descent into darkness in the midst of almost unbearable pain. Good speculative fiction always functions as a metaphor for things that are real, and Give the Dark My Love is a prime example of this. We as readers follow Nedra’s journey from hardworking girl with a purpose into obsession and finally into a darkness from which she cannot return. All the while, she is propelled by something very real and very human that affects all of us. Revis’ writing is such that we feel everything right alongside Nedra – and alongside Revis herself. Don’t skip reading her acknowledgments at the end. Read my full review here.
Black Wings Beating by Alex London
I loved this fantasy about a culture that reveres falconry and birds of prey and the pair of twins caught up in a treacherous quest to capture the Ghost Eagle, the most majestic and valuable bird of all. Their quest is fraught with many different dangers: a matriarchal society of Owl Mothers that live in the mountain they must traverse who want the twins for their own purposes; the de facto rulers of their town who threaten them with death if they fail in their quest; a warring sect of religious killers who intend harm upon anyone who worships the birds; and more. The relationship between the twins, a brother and sister who are very different from each other but are bonded by love and common experience, is well-wrought, as is the culture that has developed around the birds, whom readers will come to respect almost as much as the characters in the story. Read my full review here.
Books for Adults
The Death of Mrs. Westaway by Ruth Ware
Ruth Ware has published four books so far, and she’s yet to write a dud. Her mysteries are nail-biting thrillers with compelling characters and twists I almost never see coming. The Death of Mrs. Westaway, her most recent, might be my favorite of hers to date. It’s about a woman, Hal, who receives a letter in the mail stating that her grandmother has died, and she is to report to her grandmother’s house to learn what she’s inherited, along with her other relatives. The only problem is, Hal knows that she’s not the intended recipient of the letter; it’s an unfortunate mistake due to a mix-up with the names. But Hal is desperate, unable to make ends meet on her own, and decides to impersonate this other person and see if she can claim the money after all.
Ware’s latest requires a lot of careful thought on the part of the reader. One main plot point relies heavily on the way certain things are said by certain people, and judging from some of the Goodreads reviews, it threw a lot of readers for a loop, and they’re still trying to puzzle it out. But for the careful reader, one who is perhaps willing to flip back and analyze and try to figure things out on her own as she reads, this is a real treat. I recommend this for fans of intricately-plotted mysteries.
The Looming Tower by Lawrence Wright
Lawrence Wright published this in 2006, five years after the September 11, 2001 attacks on the United States. I was a teenager when the attacks happened and in college when the book was published; at the time, the whole event was so awful for me, I avoided most mentions of it for years aside from very surface-level mainstream news sources: brief reports on nightly news, headlines on CNN. But this is not a great way to learn about any topic with any sort of depth or nuance, particularly one so important and world-changing as 9/11. Seventeen years later, I found myself able and willing to read Wright’s book, the standard-bearer in scholarship on 9/11 and a very readable, challenging, and even fascinating book. I read this on audiobook, which Wright himself narrates, and he does a good job. I got the sense that he was telling me the story of 9/11 as he wrote it, as he discovered it, and it drives home just how much the United States government and its various intelligence agencies knew, how inadequate the attempts were to prevent such an attack (when the focus was on it at all), how much misinformation was spread afterward, and how catastrophic the United States’ response was. This should be required reading for all Americans.
The Salt Line by Holly Goddard Jones
Ever since I read Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel, I’ve been on the hunt for a great literary sci-fi novel that matches it. While The Salt Line doesn’t quite measure up, it comes close. Jones is a master of the ensemble novel format. She gives multiple characters their own third-person points of view, engendering sympathy on the part of the reader even for those characters who are hard to like or commit detestable acts. She’s interested in the themes of parenthood or the lack thereof (motherhood most strongly, but fatherhood as well), as most of the characters’ motivations involve their children or their desire to not have children, as well as surrogate parent-child bonds. As someone who isn’t particularly interested in having children myself, I liked the focus Jones placed on one character’s decision to not have kids. This character’s reasons go beyond the stereotypical and dig into themes of sacrifice and how a person claims ownership of her life. It’s rare to find a book that treats lack of motherhood as an equally fulfilling avenue for its female characters.