I wanna do a 2018 roundup post too, but first things first: the glorious year-end book superlatives you’ve come to know and love, the Nagappala Book Awards – also known, of course, starting now, as the NBAs.
(As always, these are books I read in 2018, not necessarily books published in 2018.)
Favorite Fiction:
- Children of Blood and Bone, by Tomi Adeyemi. As I wrote already, I had low expectations going in with this one because it’s pretty outside my usual genres. Sometimes that pays off though, and this is definitely a case in point. It’s YA, but not like “kiddie” YA – there’s violence and like, a little heavy petting. It was cool to read a fantasy book centered in Africa, with an all-African main cast of characters, in a story with heavy tribal folklore themes. We just don’t get much of that in the US book market.
- An American Marriage, by Tayari Jones. This is an Oprah’s Book Club pick, but don’t let that color your impression too much one way or the other. It’s just a really solid novel: a young black couple with everything going for them, wrenched apart by a wrongful conviction that sends the husband to prison for several years, and what happens when people who love each other have to live separate lives. You hear a fair amount these days (though really, still not enough) about the racism that permeates our criminal justice system and you get kind of a fresh perspective on that here.
- To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before, by Jenny Han. TATBILB, of course, was adapted into a crazy popular Netflix movie this fall and I found it one of those rare occasions where the movie lived up to the book. Guys, it’s just so fucking cute. It is literally the perfect antidote to everything that sucked about 2018. I admit that I am semi-embarrassed that 2 of my top 3 favorite fictions this year are YA, but it was just that kind of year.
Favorite Nonfiction:
- Educated, by Tara Westover. This is at the top of a *lot* of people’s 2018 lists and I hate to be such a sheep but…it’s just that good, okay? Tara Westover’s story is really unlike any I’d ever read. There’s definitely strong Mormon fundamentalism in her family, but there have been a lot of books in that vein; this is different, it just goes in a lot of other weirder and less expected directions. Her determination and grit is something to behold.
- Bad Stories, by Steve Almond. I took a Hugo House class with Steve Almond this fall, which was incredible (partly because Marie Semple was also in it, and we were a group of only like 10 people, and she told me that she used to write episodes of 90210! It was a very big day for me). I picked up this book at Elliott Bay shortly after the class and I recommend it to anyone who feels the need to mentally parse out the whys of the 2016 presidential election. There was Russian interference, yes, we know now, but it was also the bad stories that we have been telling ourselves as a country for hundreds of years. Stories about who belongs here and who doesn’t; what jobs are worthy of respect; what a leader of the US should be like. It’s not long but it says a hell of a lot.
- The Heart Is A Shifting Sea: Love And Marriage In Mumbai, by Elizabeth Flock. This is the kind of journalism that just blows my mind. Elizabeth Flock sort of embedded with these three married couples in Mumbai over a period of years. The access she got is just insane. Who wants to tell a stranger the most intimate details of their marriage, especially when that stranger is going to write a goddamn book about it all? So all of that is impressive on its own, but each couple is a fascinating portrait of modern relationships in India (at least, in India’s version of Los Angeles).
Most Disappointing Fiction:
- The Spy, by Paulo Coelho. Mata Hari is a super interesting historical figure, but this imagining of her life just fell way flat for me. Coelho’s style also just may not be to my taste. Pretty cover art, though.
Most Disappointing Nonfiction:
- Priestdaddy by Patricia Lockwood. Memoirs about bizarre family members can be hit or miss. Probably no one does it better than David Sedaris. Augusten Burroughs also has some damn memorable relatives. In Priestdaddy, Patricia Lockwood’s dad is on the eccentric side – a rare married-with-kids Catholic priest who likes to walk around semi-naked and talk about guns – but he’s no Sharon or Amy Sedaris. Take away the priesthood and her father is not terribly dissimilar from a lot of midwestern dads. Again, just didn’t do it for me.
The One I Wish I’d Written:
- All The Lives I Want, by Alana Massey. God, this was brilliant. A book of essays on famous women by whom the culture at large is fascinated or disgusted or in awe: Anna Nicole Smith, Nicki Minaj, Scarlett Johansson, and many more. This is one I need to reread to absorb as much as I can for my future work because Alana Massey writes like how I want to.
Most Obnoxious:
- Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life from Dear Sugar, by Cheryl Strayed. I have also mentioned this before, but I’m not a member of the Cheryl Strayed fan club. The thing about her is that, while this is a book of advice columns, aka people asking for help with their problems, Cheryl Strayed always makes it about Cheryl Strayed. Somebody wants help with getting over a lost lover? Cheryl Strayed has been there. Oh God, has she been there. Cheryl Strayed went through the same thing once when she was coked up out of her mind on a dirty hotel floor with a guy she just met on the highway. And now she’s gonna tell you all about it and make the last two paragraphs of the column semi-relevant to your issue. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t talk shit about other writers. But you can’t like everybody and it’s not personal.
Most Pure Uncomplicated Fun:
- Where’d You Go, Bernadette? by Maria Semple. So like I said, I met Maria Semple earlier this year, but I didn’t even know who she was at the time. The name sort of rang a bell but I didn’t put it together with this very popular novel. Anyway, I really enjoyed WYGB, and not just because it’s set in literally my very own neighborhood in Seattle. Queen Anne culture is satirized to hell and back and it is wickedly funny.
- To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before AND P.S. I Still Love You, by Jenny Han. That’s right, the original and the sequel. I still need to read the third. I wasn’t convinced that the magic could be replicated but it’s really just as good as TATBILB. They are both the equivalent of a fuzzy bathrobe and big bowl of ice cream (without the tummy ache).
Did you hate the ones I loved? Loved the ones I hated? Want to set me straight on how fabulous Cheryl Strayed really is? Let me know, friends. My 2018 reflections are gonna have to wait until January 1st. I have more wine to drink and more Parks & Rec to watch.
Sconnie Molly 