I set out this year to chill out, read slower, process fully, and enjoy the moments sparked by story. I love being able to think on a story in my own time, allowing it to fill up my mind in moments of downtime. So, naturally, I read a whole 61 books compared to last year’s 53. I don’t know that I felt myself rushing, but I definitely craved to fill the small blank spaces of my day with words.
This year, I’ve fully leaned into audiobooks, which have increased my reading consumption over the past couple of years. I listened to and from work, during my first hour or two of work, doing laundry, dishes, and ~now featuring~ lying down on the couch and playing mobile games. This year, I listened to 31 books on audio. (Thank you, Hoopla.)
In 2023, I realized my love of horror has limits thanks to The Troop by Nick Cutter (I could not finish this gruesome story). I found help in several non-fiction books like Why Has Nobody Told Me This Before and Come As You Are. I also read a book I knew I’d hate purely for entertainment reasons: The War of Art.
I started reading more short story collections, particularly women in horror. Dark Tales by Shirley Jackson was my favorite and inspired a short story I wrote soon after. The Things We Lost in The Fire by Mariana Enriquez was another notable collection that spurred me to look into more short writing.
I read more stories featuring LGBTQ+ characters and writers. I loved It Came From The Closet, which I discuss below. Some of my favorites included asexual or non-binary characters such as Elatsoe, Dread Nation, and What Moves The Dead.
I read significantly more female authors than male, and primarily read white-centric stories. I also tend to read a lot of Asian- and Latinx-written stories. One thing that offset my diverse reading was rereading the Red Rising series, written by Pierce Brown, and reading the newest release (and monstrous tome) Light Bringer. I don’t usually read long series, but Red Rising has a special place in my heart and has introduced me to a love of sci-fi I had ignored for so long.
Here are my 12 favorite reads of 2023, and why they made the cut:
Non-fiction:
1. It Came From The Closet: Queer Reflections on Horror edited by Joe Vallese
Though I consider myself to be a well-read feminist, one area I have little knowledge in is queer identities and issues. This book played to my love of horror while also giving allegories for queer feelings of displacement and otherness. From picking up on subtle cues of queer affection in Jaws and The Birds, to identifying with the possessed girl in The Exorcist, to the black and queer connections in the latest Candyman.
These essays were immersive and beautiful. I didn’t want this book to end. I gathered an appreciation for the divergency of horror and the ways, even when created through a cis-het lens, it can tell us about the depths of our own identities.
2. Why Has Nobody Told Me This Before? by Julie Smith
I have never read a self-help book that has helped me so much as this gem. I thought it was would easy-listening, heard-it-before fluff that you get from a lot of self-help books, but NO. This is a good one.
It lightly covers prominent mental health concerns and situations. Smith talks about how we react to things and the ways we can cope, forgive, and build. Each section is fairly short (considering what big topics they are) but Smith has boiled down the most potent bits to help us understand and find useful tools to cope. I consider myself to be emotionally intelligent and I still learned so much here.
To be fair, this read was a bit dry. It didn’t contain a lot of real-world examples, but the ones it does give are effective. It might take a bit of attention and note-taking to get the most out of this, but believe me, it is worth it.
3. Uncomfortable Conversations with A Black Man by Emmanuel Acho
Racism creates a completely different reality for black people, and that’s something Acho explains for people who are not black. This is a fantastic book for anyone who doesn’t know much about racism in America and a great brush-up on basic issues for others.
The reason I love this book is its usefulness. Admittedly, I did not learn much new information, but the book gave some clear-headed answers to issues that might be hard to articulate, even if you understand the problems. It can be a template when talking to others about these issues. It is also a good reminder of just how much racism affects people if you are white or otherwise light-skinned, and do not have to live it every day.
I gave a copy of this to my mom, who doesn’t understand why black people can’t just _____ (fill in the blank here). Usually, something about listening to police, respecting America, working harder…you know the drill. To her credit, she is reading it. For anyone who is racist (consciously or not), if anything can change their perspective, I think it is this book.
4. Come As You Are by Emily Nagoski
This was the book I didn’t know I needed. Recommended by Bookstagram and by my therapist, I started listening to this earlier this month and it blew me away. There was so much about my body and the way sex works that I didn’t know.
This isn’t just a book about sex. It’s about relationships, your self-image, dealing with trauma, kindness to yourself and your partner, and at every turn affirms that most of us, despite what pop culture and inherited culture tell us, are completely normal when it comes to sex.
Sci-Fi Fantasy
5. Red Rising Saga by Pierce Brown
This series is simply the best space opera I’ve ever read. This year I reread the original trilogy and read the next three for the first time. It is a masterclass in world-building, imagining a world where humans have not only taken to the stars and inhabited nearly every planet on the solar system. But they have also genetically engineered humans tailored to their intended role in society. And a man from the lowest of society is infiltrating Gold, the ruling class, to bring about the rebellion.
The story starts in a small mine on Mars but the environment grows a larger and larger scale as the books go on. Details about different planets and their harsh conditions, terraforming, and the dangers of space all add a realistic texture to a fantastical story.
Brown also offers brilliant insight into his characters and their relationships. They take on lives of their own, and you never get the sense they are being manipulated for the sake of the story, but following their own hearts, instincts, and motives. Sometimes you get into the character’s head and strategy akin to the deep and nuanced characterization of Frank Herbert’s Dune. And sometimes the narrator leaves out key information and leaves the reader just as in the dark as his enemies, surprising them at the right moment. And at the heart of it all, satisfying friendships that tightly bind the series into something readers won’t soon forget.
6. Dread Nation and Deathless Divide by Justina Ireland
Every now and then a book comes along and blows your genre expectations out of the water. This horror YA duology has none of the jumpscares and none of the YA teen angst. This duology is better defined as a dystopian western. It is, after all, about a zombie apocalypse in the 1800s before slavery was outlawed. Instead, society arranged itself into a class system that trained black people to protect white people from zombies.
Jane is one of the top of her class. She’s hot-headed and mouthy, but cool and collected when it comes to fighting with a blade. And she can’t stand the other star student of her class, Catherine. The two end up on a cross-country journey to freedom and together find a friendship worth fighting for. These books subverted all my expectations, gave me characters worth loving, and ultimately made a zombie wasteland where zombies aren’t as scary as the feeble bigots in charge.
Historical Fiction
7. Passing by Nella Larsen
I came across Passing on Bookstagram and was mesmerized by the premise. I’d never really considered the implications (and complications) of “passing” as white. This novel is a pointed exploration of the idea and what it means to don or doff identity. I loved the uncomfortable yet fascinating friendship of Clare and Irene as well as the truly cringe-worthy racism they witness while passing as white.
Horror
8. Dark Tales by Shirley Jackson
Is it even a year if I don’t read a Shirley Jackson novel? Well, this is a series of short stories, but it is my favorite collection of hers so far. She nails social horror and makes you realize you’re scared only after you’ve already been backed into a corner. It sneaks up on you and makes you question what you thought you knew about the story and characters.
Jackson’s storytelling speaks to me and inspires some of my own style, like this short story I did right after reading this collection.
Contemporary Lit
9. Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Armfield
The atmosphere of this book is utterly haunting. Set partly in a submarine science expedition and partly afterward as one of the scientists has returned changed. Miri is traumatized by her wife Leah’s longer-than-expected absence during this expedition, with no answers or explanation. Now, Leah is back and Miri can’t help but feel her wife was left under the ocean. She doesn’t talk to Miri except waxing poetic about the oceans’ depths and she has unusual habits, such as drinking saltwater and taking exceedingly long baths.
As the story goes on, you learn more of the disturbing events that happened on the submarine, and the strange becomings of Leah’s new life.
10. Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt
I’m not known as a reader of feel-good contemporary novels…but Remarkably Bright Creatures got me. It made me cry. It made me laugh. And made me wish I could have a mesmerizing friendship with an octopus.
This story has several different narrators, one of which is the octopus in question. While the intelligently cynical octopus was the highlight, there were other heartwarming character interactions and discoveries that culminate in new possibilities in a world where we feel we already have everything figured out.
11. Camp Zero by Michelle Min Sterling
Camp Zero enchanted me. Sterling writes a believably bleak yet hopeful preapocalyptic climate fiction, which primarily takes place on a remote Canadian tundra. Builders hope to make a new sort of city there and Rose is an escort, one of a group of young women there to entertain the workers.
Told between Rose, a privileged English teacher working at the camp, and a group of military women in a seemingly unrelated but geographically near research facility.
It is a tale of survival, not just of physicality but also of power and navigating the sparse social terrain to keep or earn freedoms. I highly recommend this book for anyone who loves climate fiction, cold and desolate landscapes, feminism, and tales of human greed and human resilience.
12. Big Swiss by Jen Beagin
This book is big, loud, bawdy, and utterly fantastic. I unexpectedly laughed out loud throughout and have so much of the imagery stuck and floating around in my head days later.
Greta is a 40-something living in an old Dutch farmhouse in Hudson, NY. She works as a transcriber for a sex therapist in town and (because it is a small town) she starts running into the people from her transcribed therapy sessions. She doesn’t know their names, but she knows their voices, and the one she’s most fascinated with is a woman she calls Big Swiss.
This is a messy, liberating, hilarious love story as well as a sort of late-stage-coming-of-age story for Greta, who has been held back by her own trauma all these years.
Some readers felt like the characters were unlikable, but I loved their messiness and the genuine pull of their desires. And their interactions with one another are vivid and complex. I was transfixed the whole way through.
And just look at this cover! The story does it justice and more.
