January: The Cuckoo’s Calling by Robert Galbraith (aka JK Rowling), The Invention of Wings by Sue Monk Kidd, Lazy Days by Erlend Loe
It’s always colder than I remember. I finally read JK Rowling’s foray into mystery wondering why she needed to publish it under a male pen name. It’s the year of #ReadWomen2014 and it seems fitting, somehow. It’s really really good, easily devoured. Swinging the opposite direction into Kidd’s historical novel about slavery and abolitionists that I just can’t get behind while Lazy Days just feels lazy.
February: The Opposite of Me by Sarah Pekkanen
It’s weird how I don’t even remember this book. It’s likely I’ll read it again in five years and not realize until 3/4s in. Everything is a jumble because this is the month we adopt our dog Sundance.
March: The Best American Essays 2013, The Likeness by Tana French
The essays are edited by Cheryl Strayed. I finally follow up French’s debut that I loved. This mystery is so strange I fall for it too and add all her other novels to my to read pile. The idea of a series that moves from supporting character to supporting character is great.
April: Bird Box by Josh Malerman
This comes through in a review pile but I never get around to it. A creepy horror novel about an apocalypse that comes about from some kind of creature that drives you insane just by looking at it. Survivors spend their lives blindfolded. It’s good, and feels original, which isn’t easy when it comes to this genre.
May: Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, The Fault in Our Stars by John Green, The Whole Golden World by Kristina Riggle, Sisterland by Curtis Sittenfeld
Everything falls apart. My Grandfather gets sick. Americanah is the kind of life-changing novel that you’re lucky to come across in a year. The hype is real. I need to feel light so I flip to YA but it just makes me cry. Two equally mediocre novels follow it. We buy a house.
June: Mad About the Boy by Helen Fielding, Beautiful Ruins by Jess Walter, The Thing Around Your Neck by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Consumed: Food For a Finite Planet by Sarah Elton
I read Beautiful Ruins in the sun on my porch. When I close my eyes it could be anywhere. In Ohio on the way to the funeral home my mother and I take turns reading short stories aloud from The Thing Around Your Neck. I am so far away. Non-Fiction feels necessary now but only reminds me how broken this world is.
July: One Plus One by Jojo Moyes, Boy, Snow, Bird by Helen Oyeyemi, All My Puny Sorrows by Miriam Toews, The Traveler by John Twelve Hawks
A good month for reading. I love everything I consume from the single mom raising a girl math genius, to the re-imagining of Snow White and the start of a trilogy about a big brother-esque future that eats me up. But especially Toews’ heart breaking semi-autobigraphical look at a pair of sisters, one who wants to die and the other desperately trying to convince her to live. It’s nominated for, and should have won, the Giller prize.
August: To Rise Again at a Decent Hour by Joshua Ferris, The Dark River by John Twelve Hawks, The Book of Life by Deborah Harkness
We go to Portland and I finish the second in the Twelve Hawks series on the plane. We get engaged under my favourite bridge and I finish The Book of Life on the way home, the last in a trilogy about supernatural love only not shitty like Twilight.
September: A Life in Men by Gina Frangello, The Broke-Ass Bride’s Wedding Guide by Dana LaRue, The Golden City by John Twelve Hawks, The Magician’s Land by Lev Grossman, Penguin 75: Designers, Authors, Commentary
My best friend gets married and I get to stand with her at her wedding. There’s a speech. It’s emotional. I read A Life in Men and remember our trip to Europe, how wrong it could have gone but didn’t. I finish the Twelve Hawks trilogy without a bang, the first two were way better. I also finish the Grossman trilogy which is great. It’s sort of like what Harry Potter would have been if it started in college and starred Malfoy instead. It’s hard not to see it as “borrowing” a little too much from C.S. Lewis and JK Rowling, though.
October: The Vacationers by Emma Straub, Not That Kind of Girl by Lena Dunham, The Silkworm by Robert Galbraith (JK Rowling), How to Build a Girl by Caitlin Moran
It’s cold and Straub is a disappointment. We put up last minute Halloween decorations and I finish the month off perfectly with three awesome books.
November: Yes, Please by Amy Poehler, Bad Feminist by Roxane Gay, Adult Onset by Ann-Marie MacDonald
Possibly the best month of reading yet, all three books end up on my year end list.
December: The Dilettantes by Michael Hingston, Our Endless Numbered Days by Claire Fuller, The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley, Love Enough by Dionne Brand, The Republic of Imagination: America in Three Books by Azar Nafisi, Us Conductors by Sean Michaels, Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel
It all went by so fast I think. I finally read Hingston’s book that’s been on my shelf for awhile, it’s as good as I thought it might be. Really enjoyable. Fuller’s yet-to-be-released novel about a girl who’s kidnapped by her survivalist father and raised in a cabin in the woods where he tells her the world has ended is fantastic. It deserves a lot of love in 2015, I hope it gets it. I finally start yet another mystery series that I’ve heard so much about. Brand disappoints, as does Nafisi. I read Us Conductors only because it won the Giller prize and I had to see if it was better than All My Puny Sorrows. It’s beautiful, but no. I finish the year off with an instant favourite. Station Eleven is an apocalyptic tale told in many POVs about a virus that disseminates the world and then, 20 years later, a group of travelling actors and musicians that believe survival isn’t enough. It’s perfect.