The 41 Books I Read In 2018

Happy 2019! The books that I loved last year I devoured in what felt like hours, and to my surprise, that included a few big award-winning ones (and to my lack of surprise, a couple of dystopian ones). I also had plenty of “I really wanted to like these more” books, which is strange for someone who has no problem putting down books that feel boring. I think pushing through on these books was my version of the theme we saw everywhere in 2018, of people looking “across the aisle” or trying to understand others’ minds — it’s not just for political viewpoints, as it turns out. While of course I prefer to read books I enjoy, it’s not a terrible idea to try out the stuff that isn’t my preference to keep things interesting. So we’ll see what the next year brings!

If you’ve read any of these, I’d love to hear what you thought, or which great books you loved this year.

-Rebecca

The Witches of New York by Ami McKay — Somewhat of a history book, somewhat of a fairy tale, this novel about witches (and soon-to-be-witches) in 19th century Manhattan offers what I’d almost call a realistic view of what it meant to be someone practicing the dark arts, complete with magic and politics. A solid story with plenty to offer.

*Bellevue Square by Michael Redhill — I have a terrible tendency to approach award-winning books with a kind of obligatory dread, which I admit makes no sense, but nonetheless, made the Giller Prize-winning Bellevue Square that much better. Rather than feeling like something you *should* read, it’s a book that keeps you glued to the pages, while also feeling incredibly literary (and yes, pretty strange). It’s about a lot of things: mental health, family, what constitutes our realities, but I’ll admit the passages that made me happiest were the ones that so perfectly encapsulated Toronto, a not-so-minor character in this work.

Goodbye, Vitamin by Rachel Khong — Using the word “quirky” to describe a book about a 29-year-old woman moving home to take care of her father as he suffers from Alzheimer’s might seem surprising, but there it is. It’s sweet and personal and written in a way that inserts the reader completely into their lives, like a member of the family.

Waking Lions by Ayelet Gundar-Goshen — I was really enthralled in this Israeli book when I started it, propelled by the story of a doctor who hits an Eritrean man with a car and proceeds to cover it up in unfathomable ways. It’s a good story, but wanders in places I wouldn’t have expected and didn’t necessarily like, which might have been due to the translation, or maybe it just wasn’t entirely my kind of story.

*Fierce Kingdom by Gin Phillips — I’ve never before read a book with my heart pounding the entire time, nor can I remember the last time I started and finished a book in one sitting. But this story, about a mother and her young son stuck in the middle of a mass shooting spree at a zoo, refuses to let you put it down. And despite this anxiety-inducing plot, it waxes philosophically and far too realistically (for my taste, given their situation) about what it means to be a parent, and a good or a bad guy, and it’s just a feat.

All Grown Up by Jami Attenberg — A great, smart, completely different take on the “single girl in the city” story that reframes the narrative into one of female empowerment that feels very 2018 (or 2017, when the book was published). It’s by no means a breezy read, investigating as it does real questions about love and family and (for lack of a better word), #goals.

*The Immortalists by Chloe Benjamin — At the beginning of this book, four siblings get told the date of their deaths, and from there, it goes in entirely unexpected directions. Part history lesson on the late 20th century, part exploration of mental health, and a whole lot of philosophy, this gripping novel is inherently interesting and a great read.

*I Hear She’s A Real Bitch by Jen Agg — Considering how much I loved The Black Hoof (RIP) specifically and books about restaurants generally, I can’t believe how long it took me to read this. It’s a hybrid of both a restaurant book and one focused on Agg’s politics, and on the whole, it works. I loved reading about the intricacies of opening a restaurant, and what a career in the industry looks like. I also welcomed delving further into Agg’s viewpoints, even if I didn’t agree with them throughout. But it’s a confident, well-written book, and if you’re interested in food, wine, feminism or the Toronto-specific versions of those things, you’ll be into this book.

Forest Dark by Nicole Krauss — I really wanted to love this book, having loved Krauss’s other works, as well as her ex-husband (Jonathan Safran Foer)’s parallel book (about divorce and Israel), “Here I Am.” While there were glimmers of insight and storytelling that I enjoyed, on the whole it felt a bit piecemeal, like the two stories she was somewhat interweaving didn’t find their common thread, and her own sense of loss that’s apparent throughout the book only makes the reader feel lost as well.

The Infinite Future by Tim Wirkus — This book within an autobiographical book within a science fiction book is good, and different, and inventive, but I couldn’t help but feel that I was missing out on big chunks of its significance because of my lack of knowledge of the Mormon religion. Afterwards, however, instead of feeling compelled to learn more, I just felt confused and a bit tired.

*Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng — What does class look like and how does it affect you in a town so structured, it puts timers on when you can water your grass? I loved Ng’s “Everything I Never Told You,” and this book similarly brought into sharp perspective the fraught relationship between parents and teenagers, the secrets that build up between them, and that oh-so-familiar feeling of wanting to belong, especially in a place where it feels like you can never fit in.

This Could Hurt by Jillian Medoff — This book about an HR department will be painfully familiar for anyone who works in a corporate culture, with writing that manages to take the reader out of the office setting and into the lives of its imperfect human characters. It essentially functions like an office manual of what not to do, while also being a satirical take on corporate life.

Stay With Me by Ayobami Adebayo — An intimate, raw look at the lives of a young Nigerian couple, and what it means to be in love, to be married, to be independent at a time when old traditions rub up against modern realities. It gave me insight into a culture I wasn’t familiar with in what felt like an incredibly honest love story.

*The Last Black Unicorn by Tiffany Haddish — Haddish has been everywhere over the last few years, so her autobiography felt inevitable — but don’t expect a fully raucous romp of coming up through the ranks as a stand-up comedian. She’s had a tough life, and doesn’t shy away from writing about foster homes, or mistreatment by people in the industry, or her abusive marriage. But she writes it interspersed with hilarious stories, and the kind of “yeah, I am a real person and I can survive anything” voice that makes her such a joy to watch on-screen, and is no less a pleasure to read.

Memento Park by Mark Sarvas — This was a good, if not great, book about one man’s middle-aged quest for his identity, taking him to Budapest to claim a valuable family heirloom lost in World War II. My friend Rachel described the main character as Rothian, which seemed a particularly fitting tribute given the author’s death this year.

The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas — By now you’ve probably heard of this YA novel (that’s apparently a pretty great movie too), written from a young black girl’s perspective about race, class and the very real challenges of being a teenager, period. It’s definitely written for a younger audience, but I appreciated how Thomas gave adult readers an opportunity to glimpse the rich internal life of this teen in what felt like a genuine way.

Fire Sermon by Jamie Quatro — Religion, sex, love and poetry all occupy different planes — which maybe are the same ones? — in this novella that meanders through one married woman’s experiences interpreting all of the above. I found it a bit dense, but beautifully crafted, worth reading for sentence construction alone.

You Think It, I’ll Say It by Curtis Sittenfeld — The thing that always amazes me about short story collections — at least, the good ones — is how the author manages to create so many rich characters in the span of just a few pages. While I honestly wouldn’t have minded it being even more cutting in its insights about choices, this work offers a peek into a wide variety of women’s internal lives.

*Mindset by Carol Dweck — Many parents have likely heard of Dweck’s work on growth mindset, and I know I haven’t been able to shut up about it since reading this book. As far as self-help books go (though calling it that feels reductive, so perhaps “research” is a better term), this was easy to read, and full of precise, smart examples of where people can help themselves (and their kids) to grow, rather than limit their own learning.

*The Book Of M by Peng Shepherd — This apocalyptic novel is reminiscent of “Blindness” (albeit without the same kind of intricate prose). What happens if people’s memories are contained in their shadows … and shadows start disappearing? Terrifying, touching, intriguing and just plain good, this book had me so ensconced I found myself checking for my own (and other people’s) shadows for days.

The Favorite Sister by Jessica Knoll — Like the made-up reality show this book is written about, this was fun and gripping, and ultimately unsatisfying — but you can’t stop watching. Good storyline with a few problematic aspects and details that weren’t as well sketched out as I would have liked. Great for a quick read.

Ayesha At Last by Uzma Jalaluddin — Another year, another version of “Pride and Prejudice” read without reading the source text. This one, set in Toronto about a Muslim couple, brings delicious modern details to the story. There are great little twists and turns on the path to true love, and Jalaluddin weaves them nicely into the tale.

How To Be Safe by Tom McAllister — I’ll be honest, I had to Google to recall what this book was about, which tells you how much it stayed with me. A supposed satire based on a former teacher being accused of a school shooting, I found the premise interesting at first, but then strange, and ultimately, fully flawed.

*Calypso by David Sedaris — How is it that David Sedaris only gets better with age? Actually, that’s not even a fair statement, because he’s actually the exact writer to observe the aging process with the kind of dry wit and unfiltered scrutiny that it deserves. This book felt even more personal than his previous ones, and was equal parts laugh-out-loud hilarious and on-the-nose honest.

The Only Story by Julian Barnes — This one was a slow burn, the kind of book that I think can only improve upon a second or third reading (but uh, I haven’t actually done that with it) because of its shifting perspective and overarching statement about what time does to your memory. The plot itself is about a young man’s affair with an older woman, but the point of the book leans much more heavily on the nature of storytelling itself.

The Nix by Nathan Hill — If you take a history lesson about the 1960s, add in commentary on entitled millennials at college, and get Judy Blume to endorse it (via the 3 Books podcast), you get this take on the world that does a pretty good job connecting the dots between today’s political climate and the once-upon-a-time hippies on either side of it. The book was a bit longer than I would have preferred, but has a satisfying payoff and entertaining meandering plot lines along the way.

The Alice Network by Kate Quinn — A story about female spies told by two narrators — one during World War I, the other in the late 1940s. It’s a quick read with a different perspective for historical fiction that makes it stand out.

*Providence by Caroline Kepnes — It starts as a story about a teenager who’s kidnapped, but spins off in so many other directions that you’re never quite sure where it’s going next. Such an interesting book that combines the best aspects of mystery, science fiction and love stories in one engrossing tale.

The Incendiaries by R.O. Kwon — As someone who tends to prefer plot-driven books, I often dismiss works of obvious literature a little too readily. But this book, about believers in all forms, was so beautifully and almost mystically written that it pulled me in to its universe for its almost too-short duration.

The Maze of Windermere by Gregory Blake Smith — This book weaves through the centuries of Newport, Rhode Island through a variety of perspectives, bringing forth love stories, manipulations, class wars and history. Because of all the different characters, I found there were some storylines I was more interested in than others and skimmed through a bunch of the book.

*The Seven Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle by Stuart Turton — Just a completely different kind of book that makes you marvel at the author’s ingenuity. I think it’s better to go into it knowing as little about the plot as possible, but think of it like Memento, written about the British upper class.

*An American Marriage by Tayari Jones — A young couple of different backgrounds get married. A young couple is split apart, by their own distance, but more so by the forces of society that weighs so heavily on them. I can’t pretend to know the experience of black people growing up in today’s society (particularly in America), but this book does an incredible job opening that up for these characters. It picks their lives apart and weaves them back together in a book that’s both intellectual and deeply emotional.

*Washington Black by Esi Edugyan — I mean, now I just look like I’m copying Barack Obama, but as a Canadian, I certainly feel like I get a claim to it first. This book was another award-winner that surpassed my expectations. A story of slavery, exploration and being willing to constantly put your faith in others (even when they don’t deserve it), it took wondrous twists and tough choices and was so very enjoyable to read.

The Ensemble by Aja Gabel — I wanted to like this book more than I did, and perhaps if I knew more about classical music, I would have. The story of a quartet through the years of their career is interesting and a glimpse into a world I’m not familiar with, but the characters almost felt further away the more I read about them because of it.

The Winters by Lisa Gabriele — This reimagining of “Rebecca” for the modern world (a classic I’ve ironically never read) is a completely addictive mystery that I devoured in two days. Ostensibly about a love story that starts in the gorgeously described Cayman Islands, the question marks hovering the background propel it along to a crashing conclusion.

*Circe by Madeline Miller — The best surprise of the year. When my book club picked this (and despite having been urged by Rachel to read it for months), I dreaded having to read it because of its basis in Greek mythology and the seeming academia that came with that. But it’s character study, plot and weaving in of all those stories that seem too intimidating to read (but are actually just the greatest *stories*) made this a real pleasure that whipped by.