Don’t be frightened by the length, it’s basically just one big book review.

It has been a tough year. For the world, really, but, most unfortunately, my anxiety and depression sometimes makes it hard to think about anything but myself and how much I suck. So I guess what I mean when I say it’s been a tough year is that it has been a tough year for me. I can’t even watch the news anymore without being set off, so it’s difficult for me to speak about any of the other issues of the year at the moment. Although, with any luck, you’ll see my opinions amongst the non-paying digital publishing platforms sometime soon.

Ever since I’ve moved back home at the end of 2016 after graduating from university, both my moods and my money have been struggles. I can’t drive (see: anxiety,) so I pretty much don’t go anywhere besides work, doctor’s appointments, and trivia, to which I force myself to go once a week, and during which my friends are very patient.

But I have slept in places other than my own bed this year. (Thank goodness.) I’ve gone to Boston once, right before my little nephew was born on Good Friday. And I’ve gone to New York something like seven times: to see Panic! at the Disco, to watch Christine’s final play at university, to go to my graduation ceremony, to visit Christine, to see the Green brothers, and to explore my old holiday haunts.

I’ve written a lot, and applied to a lot of jobs this year, yearning to get out of my little Connecticut town. It’s not that I don’t love my family or my doctors or my friends – I won’t be far when I finally move out, and I’m sure I’ll visit home so much that it won’t even seem like I’ve moved out – but I don’t feel independent here. Because I’m not. I feel like a burden, like I’m going nowhere fast.

I’ve received 112 rejections for short stories, poetry, essays, queries, and job applications. I’m waiting, none too optimistically, on 43 more. But at least I wrote, and I sent things out, and I tried. I haven’t been writing for the past couple of weeks, besides journaling. But my schedule for the new year looks pretty bare, so it looks like I’ll have plenty of time to try again.

It this entry sounds pretty down and out, it is. This is how I feel sometimes. Not always, though when I recognize how selfish I’m being I tend to beat myself up more for it so there is often little reprieve.

But.

I traveled in a different way this year. I read 125 books, which is my record. A lot of them were picture books because of my nephew and my job as a substitute teacher, but I also read a book over a thousand pages long, another record for me. I re-read a lot of books because of my depression, but I also found some new favorites. I figured that here would be a good place to wrap up my reading year, since my BookTube channel died ten videos in and long before anyone saw any of it.

So here we go.

MEH CITY

• The Chemist, Stephenie Meyer. I don’t know. I used to love Twilight and The Host and I was looking for a quick mush fix. But alas, I am too much of an English major to look over the faults now.
• The Silmarillion, J.R.R. Tolkein. Some of this stuff was great. But I am a Lord of the Rings purist. I don’t like the supplementary Harry Potter stuff or the EU of Star Wars. I like to know that the author knows everything, but I myself like to focus on the themes of the epic itself.
• Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, Lewis Carroll. I think just because I didn’t grow up with it and I know too much about the author himself.
• All We Shall Know, Donal Ryan. I don’t know. I liked it, but I don’t think I can read it again. It would be too difficult.
• The Wishing Spell, Chris Colfer. I love Chris Colfer to death, but this wasn’t quite my speed. Everyone was too nice.
• The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Mila Kundera. Probably just because I only finished it this year. I first tried to read it at a tougher time in my life.
• The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, Arthur Conan Doyle. I’m starting to think that I love the culture surrounding Sherlock Holmes better than the book. Which, as per my comments on the Silmarillion, is unusual for me. It’s also possible my fifteen-page essay on “The Speckled Band” ruined it for me.
• Horrorstör, Grady Hendrix. Nothing but its design was compelling to me.
• House of Leaves, Mark Z. Danielewski. If Catie reads this she’s going to kill me. I’m going to blame the fact that I didn’t get it on my supidity and the fact that I was going through a rough patch.
• Look Who’s Back, Timur Vermes. Hitler appearing in 2011 Germany and getting a YouTube channel hits close to home, but other than that fact I don’t know if it hits hard enough on the satire. Then again, it is translated from German so something could have been lost in translation.
• Giovanni’s Room, James Baldwin. Again, I started reading this during a rough patch. I think I would have liked it more if I hadn’t read Maurice by E. M. Forster first, though I can’t explain that very well.
• Swann’s Way, Marcel Proust. I liked the first part. But then I was like, okay Marcel, I get it.
• The Remains of the Day, Kazuo Ishiguro. Again, I liked it! But I shouldn’t have watched the film trailer first. I couldn’t see anyone but Emma Thompson and Anthony Hopkins in my head.

MEMOIRS AND NONFICTION 

• The Princess Diarist, Carrie Fisher. I read this as a tribute to my late general. It’s a brilliantly written and very insightful book that gave me all sorts of feels as a huge Star Wars and Carrie Fisher fan. I also read Shockaholic, which was good and showed more Carrie Fisher badassery (and it coupled well with Bright Lights, the documentary about her and her mother, Debbie Reynolds,) but I liked Princess Diarist just a little more.
• Another Day in the Death of America, Gary Younge. Absolutely brilliant look at the culture of gun violence in America, to be given to anyone who still thinks that the second amendment is a good enough reason to keep their guns. Younge picks one day and researches all the deaths of children nineteen and under by gun violence on that day.
• Furiously Happy, Jenny Lawson. I always loved looking at the cover while I was working at the NYU Bookstore, and I gave it a listen on Audible. I recommend listening to it, read by the author, if possible. A great and humorous look at depression.
• Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear, Elizabeth Gilbert. I listened to this on audiobook as well, and while some of the anecdotes were entertaining, I could think of nothing but how privileged the author is. Take that as you will.
• Eat Sweat Play: How Sport Can Change Our Lives, Anna Kessel. An amazing feminist look at the world of sport and its internalized misogyny, and how we as women can take it back.
• Dear Ijeawele, or a Feminist Manifesto in Fifteen Suggestions, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. Yes. YES. Read it.
• This Fight Is Our Fight, Elizabeth Warren. How did you pop that one out so fast, Liz? I recommend listening to the author read it on audiobook.
• The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, Oliver Sacks. Read for research, but sometimes I couldn’t get over its antiquity.
• The Argonauts, Maggie Nelson. A look at Maggie Nelson’s life with her gender-nonconforming partner.
• The Kite and the String: How to Write with Spontaneity and Control – and Live to Tell the Tale, Alice Mattison. Got to keep reading those writing books.
• Playing in the Dark: Whiteness and the Literary Imagination, Toni Morrison. I figured I should read this because I quoted it in an essay back in American Lit.
• Bernie Sanders Guide to Political Revolution, Bernie Sanders. Good, but possibly for a younger, less political audience than myself.
• The Girls of Atomic City: The Untold Story of the Women Who Helped Win World War II, Denise Kiernan. Read for research and also because I’m unhealthily obsessed with World War II stories. Ladies are badass.
• The Man Who Couldn’t Stop: David Adam. See this post.
• That’s Not English: Britishisms, Americanisms, and What Our English Says About Us, Erin Moore. Read because I am an unhealthy anglophile and I want to go back to London.
• We Were Eight Years in Power: An American Tragedy, Ta-Nehisi Coates. What is this twitter deletion thing? I’m so confused. But this book was mostly good stuff.
• The Secret History of Wonder Woman, Jill Lepore. I LOVE stuff like this. I always want to know the real history behind things!
• Harry Potter: A History of Magic, J.K. Rowling. Okay, I don’t like supplementary materials generally, but this was more like The Secret History of Wonder Woman. I’m a sucker for origin stories.

NEW DISCOVERIES

• Two words: Roxane Gay. I read as much as I could of her this year, and all were five star material. Difficult Women, Bad Feminist, An Untamed State, and Hunger all come highly recommended.
• Big Little Lies, Liane Moriarty. By God, I loved this book. It was so rich and beautiful. I listened to it on audiobook, and the lady had a lovely Australian accent. It’s usual for me to say this, but I enjoyed the book much more than the mini series.
• The Good Immigrant, ed. Nikesh Shulka. Brilliant. A look at British immigration and racism through the eyes of those who have endured it.
• IT, Stephen King. I can’t even begin with this. I highlighted this book so much and I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s also the longest book I’ve ever read.
• The Nightingale, Kristin Hannah. World War II research again, I know, but like, I haven’t cried at a genre book like this in a while, and it was just so lady-forward and brilliant.
• The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, Junot Díaz. I had some problems with this, namely that Oscar had a shitty life because he was a substitute teacher in his old high school (hello, look what I am doing – I’m totally fulfilled, thank you very much.) But I’ve always wanted to write in this style – almost like short stories wound into a novel.
• Room, Emma Donoghue. I loved the narrator, loved the realistic characters, and loved the close look that Donoghue took at a rebuilding process that we don’t often think about.
• Neil Gaiman. I knew he was great an amazing, and I’d seen a couple of films based on his book, but I finally got to read some of his stuff this year, namely Neverwhere. I’m working on Stardust right now, an old film favorite.
• Beloved, Toni Morrison. Yes. Yes. I kept finding myself thinking: THIS BOOK MUST HAVE PUSHED THE BOUNDARIES OF GENRE WHEN IT FIRST CAME OUT; THIS IS AMAZING!
• The Fishermen, Chigozie Obioma. Very interesting indeed. I think I need a reread to catch everything. But there’s a lot of good stuff about self-fulfilling prophecy in here.
• Night, Elie Wiesel. I know. How could I have not read it before? But now I have, along with these wonderful new forwards and afterwards that made me cry.

PICTURE BOOKS AND GRAPHIC NOVELS

• The Paper Bag Princess, Robert Munsch. Even more feminist than I remembered; a great gift for my nephew.
• The Giving Tree, Shel Silverstein. Sure, it can teach about abusive relationship and environmental strife. That’s why it’s still good. You just have to let it open up the conversation.
• Darth Vader and Son, Jeffrey Brown. Good times. I’m still laughing about, “well, did Greedo push you first?”
• Good Luck, Graduate: 223 Thoughts for the Road Ahead, Gregory E. Lang. Alas, it did nothing to stop the spirals.
• Adulthood is a Myth and Big Mushy Happy Lump, Sarah Anderson. Cute times.
• Franklin’s Flying Bookshop, Jen Campbell. A very adorable and beautifully illustrated book for my nephew, signed by the author.
• Why Did I Do That? How You Make Sense And Why There Is Hope: An Introduction to Internal Family Systems, Dorie Cameron. Because I am currently getting therapy in IFS.
• Stellaluna, Janell Cannon. I forgot all about this book until I had to read it to a first grade class. It’s so cute.
• Read This Till You Believe It, M.H. Clark. I think I need to read this again someday when I’m not so easily willing to dismiss anything good about myself.
• Diane Goode’s American Christmas, Diane Goode. You know, because Christmas.

POETRY, PLAYS, AND SHORT FICTION

• The Best American Short Stories 2016, ed. Junot Díaz. Got to see what’s in the market, you understand.
• King Charles III, Mike Bartlett. I loved it when I saw it and I love it now. Shakespeare’s best techniques for the modern age. No one understands me.
• Milk and Honey, Rupi Kaur. I hear that a lot of poets are kind of touchy about this. I think I feel the same.
• In Search of Our Mothers Gardens and Once, Alice Walker. Wow. She writes evocatively and powerfully. I definitely plan to seek out more of her work this year.
• Richard III, William Shakespeare. As always, good stuff. Love my man, Shakespeare. I especially love the adaptation in the third act of Ivo van Hove’s Kings of War, which I saw last November.
• Our Numbered Days, Neil Hilborn. A very interesting look at obsessive-compulsive disorder through poetry.
• Slasher Girls & Monster Boys, ed. April Genevieve Tucholke. I’m basically keeping this on my shelf for the brilliant Jay Kristoff story.
• Because You Love to Hate Me, ed. Ameriie. The concept of this book bewilders me, but there were some hidden gems.
• Even This Page Is White, Vivek Shraya. What it says on the tin.
• Let Them Eat Chaos, Kate Tempest. I wish I had listened to this first as it was meant to be read aloud. Still a great look into other people’s lives.
• Why God Is A Woman, Nin Andrews. Not what I expected, but still pretty great.
• The Beginning of the World in the Middle of the Night, Jen Campbell. I love Jen Campbell’s brilliant YouTube channel, and she is also a very smart and unbelievably patient human being, especially when I ask her stupid questions. I’ve read all her books, but this is her first piece of fiction for adults, and it’s my favorite of hers so far, although The Bookshop Book comes in a close second. My edition is signed by the author.
• Twelve Angry Men, Reginald Rose. I had to read most of the first act aloud to a class, and I ended up finishing it in my off period. I want to rewrite this about sexual assault. (Don’t go stealing my idea, now!)
• Milk and Vine, Adam Gasiewski. A lovely Christmas present from my friend Liz, although I know some people aren’t happy that Vine creators aren’t making any money off of it. Unfortunately I don’t know any more about it, so I can’t speak well on it, but when I did a dramatic reading with Liz, it did make me laugh.

RE-READS

•  A Series of Unfortunate Events, Lemony Snicket. The Neil Patrick Harris television show, though I initially dreaded it, inspired me. As a child I remembered hating the last couple of books. But as an adult(?) I enjoyed it much more, and also caught on to many more literary references.
• Trial by Journal, Kate Klise. An amazing multi-media book about twelve-year-old Lily Watson who serves on a jury who single-handedly solves the case.
• Pirateology, Dugald A. Steer. For a short story I haven’t finished yet.
• 1984, George Orwell. Because I had to this year.
• The Hunger Games Trilogy, Suzanne Collins. I always think that I can last the year without reading this, but I always end up needing a little fighting inspiration.
• The Handmaid’s Tale, Margaret Atwood. In place of watching the Hulu series. Too real.
• The Harry Potter Series, J.K. Rowling. I’ve got to do it every year. And this year I even read The Philosopher’s Stone in Spanish, too!
• Captain Blood, Rafael Sabatini. Okay, this wasn’t technically a re-read, but I know the movie so well that I could quote from the book before I read it. It’s good stuff, honestly.
• Inkheart, Cornelia Funke. Dustfinger used to be my favorite character of all time. I was planning on rereading Inkspell, as well, and also finishing Inkdeath, but it ended up being too much for me.
• Sense and Sensibility, Jane Austen. Again, not technically a re-read, but I could quote from it again. Jane Austen is my girl. She is totally brill.
• All of John Green’s books. I needed a boost. The Fault in Our Stars is still the best one, but I have a real soft spot for Will Grayson, Will Grayson. 

YOUNG ADULT

• History Is All You Left Me and They Both Die at the End, Adam Silvera. Both very sad. I liked They Both Die at the End a little better, but I think Silvera’s debut, More Happy Than Not, is still his best.
• The Hate U Give, Angie Thomas. It lives up to the hype. Give it a read.
• Stolen, Lucy Christopher. At its basis is an exploration of Stockholm Syndrome, but honestly, it made me feel a lot of feelings. Harrowing.
• The Secret Diary of Lizzie Bennet and The Epic Adventures of Lydia Bennet, Bernie Su and Kate Rorick. I absolutely love The Lizzie Bennet Diaries, which is a great adaptation of my favorite standalone novel of all time, Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. These books were fluffy and cute and gave even more insight to the depth of the web series.
• Brown Girl Dreaming, Jacqueline Woodson. I mean, just look at all those awards on the cover!
• The Upside of Unrequited, Becky Albertalli. Cute, and I liked that it was diverse and connected to her other book, but I like her debut, Simon and the Homo Sapiens Agenda, a little bit better.
• Geekerella, Ashley Poston. I was surprised at how much I liked this! It’s a great look at fandom.
• Always and Forever, Lara Jean, Jenny Han. A cute beach read, but I still prefer the first in the series, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before. 
• We Are Okay, Nina LaCour. I think this was a good look at depression and it definitely gave me some feels.
• I Hate Everyone But You, Gaby Dunn and Allison Raskin. This made me feel a ton of feelings.
• There’s Someone Inside Your House, Stephanie Perkins. A great Halloween read which I gobbled in one sitting. I had a couple problems with this, but the book is so charming that they’re easily overlooked.
• Turtles All The Way Down, John Green. I refer you again to this post.
• Eliza and Her Monsters, Francesca Zappia. I read this in one sitting, but I was kind of taken aback by some of the suicide themes that I wasn’t prepared for, and I thought some of it was problematic. But for the most part, it was engaging.

So those are all the places I’ve travelled this year. (Does anyone notice that I switch whether I use one or two ls? I need to figure this out.) I’m wishing you (are you there?) a happy new year full of fun travels, whether they be out in the world, or in your own bed.