This one is tough for me. I lost my mother this year, the person who started me reading and started me writing, who kept a book list since before I was born and never ceased reminding me that she’d already read everything I’d read (except for the sci fi/fantasy stuff, blerg).
I’m going to keep this brief because the hurt is still fresh, and I haven’t cried yet today and don’t want to start now.
I read and listened to a whopping 102 books this year, a big jump from 2024, when I read 77. I think it has to do with reading a lot of comps and getting myself ready to be on submission with a novel next year. The average year of publication is 2017, though I did read David Copperfield (1850) and a few turn-of-the-century detective novels.
Fourteen audiobooks, one more than last year. It would have been fifteen but I declared bankruptcy on a novel just as the plot slid into the pandemic. I’m not quite ready for that. My Father’s Brain was the outstanding favorite of the bunch, though Cher’s memoir was an absolute treat. I read three books about the 2008 recession, perhaps prepping myself to understand the next one.
Fifty-nine out of 102 were written by women or non-binary writers! As I’ve said before, I am a female writer and I want to be represented on reading lists in the future, and I want my reading list to reflect that right now.
Proud to say I read more books by Asian and Asian-American authors than in previous years (a total of seventeen). I have more novels and memoirs all queued up for 2026, too.
I’m delighted that I was read The Return of Ellie Black, a riveting thriller by Emiko Jean, who is also repped by my new agent.
Only three novels by Georges Simenon! Quelle horreur! Come back and write some more (minus the philandering, please).
Happy New Year. Hug your momma.