Reading Roundup 2021

This year was a big reading year for me, with at least 106 books read. If you’re wondering why I say “at least” it’s because I do track my reads, but I realized at some point this year that a few books didn’t make it onto my list–mostly various Bible studies that didn’t lend themselves to my tracking process. So I can count them, but I didn’t track the beginning and finishing dates, nor the page counts, because so much space for answering questions feels like it skews the count a little bit.

So, all that to say, at least 105 books and 43,076 pages. Some were rereads, like the entire Fullmetal Alchemist and most of Library Wars manga series, but most of them were books I’d never read before. I read lots of good books and quite a few not very good books, but such is the nature of trying new authors. Here’s a list of some of my favorites from this year.

My favorite new fiction read of this year was Matt Haig’s The Midnight Library. A tactful look at the struggle to continue living when nothing in life seems to thrive, I think it’s particularly relevant to my generation that struggles with burnout and the reality that the world has drastically changed from what was reasonably expected as children. It does require a content/trigger warning, because Haig takes on the subject of suicide very blatantly, but he manages it in a way that neither glorifies nor stigmatizes it. His approach is one of gentle healing and growth, so even when parts of it may trigger personal struggles, I think on the whole the book leaves the reader feeling soothed.

I didn’t read a lot of nonfiction this year, which does leave me a little bit sad since I enjoy it, but far and away the best of that bunch was Beth Allison Barr’s The Making of Biblical Womanhood. Filled with fresh insights and challenges to the patriarchal regime, Barr’s work felt to me like it restored freedom for women to be whomever they are created to be–be a mother, be single, have a career, be a homemaker, none of these are right or wrong, except for individually. By placing expectations on women and tying them to the idea of Biblical womanhood, the general treatment of women within the church looks much the same as treatment of women outside of the church. This book leaves readers with a lot to wrestle with and explore on their own, but it’s a great read for anyone looking to break away from the status quo.

Of course, you’ll remember that I binged a lot of V.E. Schwab’s books this year, too, so there’s no way I can have a roundup without at least mentioning my favorite author. Whether they are adult books or children’s books, everything I’ve read by Schwab has been an absolute delight. I read six of her backlist titles this year (and reread Addie LaRue, my favorite book from last year) and I’ve still got plenty left that I can read next year–plus a new novel coming out in March! Yay!

I didn’t do any posts about the manga series that I read this year (I don’t know why, to be honest), but I’ve got to include a little mention of Library Wars, in part because I absolutely love it and in part because it’s frighteningly relevant. In this series, the Media Betterment Committee and the Library Forces are constantly going toe to toe in order to achieve their goals. The MBC wants to censor anything they find offensive in order to protect the citizens. The Library Forces believes in free speech and the right for citizens the decide for themselves what they want to consume. This series is great for anyone who loves libraries, action, and loves freedom of speech. It can also be a great conversation starter as you discuss the absurdities of the MBC and how some of the things people try in our nation aren’t so far off.

Lastly, I’m knee deep in Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time series. I’m wrapping up book six (I read the first book in 2020 and waited a year and a half to pick the series up again) and all I can say is that the series keeps getting better and better. I understand that 14 books (15 if you read the prequel) is a huge commitment for a lot of people, especially considering these aren’t small books. But if you can, I highly recommend it. It’s everything you’d ever want from a high fantasy novel, with lots of moving parts, intrigue, and a variety of character perspectives.

Looking forward to next year, I’m expecting to finish Wheel of Time. I’m going to do Flashback February, where I revisit books I’ve read and loved in the past, ranging from childhood to high school. I’ve got a stack of books that’s been glaring at me for months that I hope to get through, too. And maybe 2022 will be the year I finally at least start Bernard Cornwell’s Last Kingdom series.

The Girl Who Saved Christmas: A slightly sassy holiday story

It’s a known fact that it’s nearly impossible for me to go to a bookstore without buying a book for myself. And when it’s a used bookstore with cheap prices, even more so. So naturally, Christmas shopping this year wasn’t complete without slipping a book into the stack for myself. While I wasn’t looking for it, finding Matt Haig’s children’s book was a welcome delight.

Amelia saved Christmas once before by freely indulging in her hopeful spirit. So when trolls attack and Christmas is struggling, Father Christmas knows he only needs to find Amelia to restore magic. But Amelia’s life has changed significantly since then, and it’s not just new living arrangements. Father Christmas has a lot more to restore than magic, and time is running out.

The Girl Who Saved Christmas is a fun read full of Dickensian references and vibes. Amelia is a perfect Dickensian protagonist, full of sass and refusing to be ground down by her antagonists, even if she despairs a little.

Haig introduces his young readers to a variety of words, some made up and some real, and does it without being patronizing or condescending, which I always appreciate in writers—especially those writing for kids. He weaves together three different narratives and purposefully knots them together at the end for the big finale.

All in all, this was a really fun and fast read, great for kids but also for adults who just want something to unwind with.

The Noel Letters: A Christmas read to tug on your heart

The first thing I noticed as I read this book was that Richard Paul Evans either has worked in a bookstore or has spent time talking with booksellers. His passing characters that ask for a sequel to The Diary of Anne Frank or who want a damaged book discount for deckle-edged books are legitimately real people, and as a former bookseller, I appreciate his calling them out this way.

The Noel Letters is the story of Noel Book, an editor for a big publishing company who comes home to see her father before he dies. She doesn’t make it in time, and nearly 20 years of things left unsaid begin to bubble to the surface as she faces life upheaval at every turn. Having spent most of her life with strong beliefs about who her father was, Noel is shocked to find that everyone back home seems to have known a completely different man. Mysterious letters begin arriving for Noel and, unbeknownst to her, begin preparing her for the hardest truths she will ever have to face.

Why is it that all the famous Christmas authors have really bittersweet books? I see the draw of using Christmastime as a background for healing, but sometimes it would be nice to have a story that doesn’t leave you feeling a little depressed, too. That said, I did thoroughly enjoy this book.

My first time reading Richard Paul Evans’ work, I’ll definitely be checking more out next year for my holiday reads. His writing is engaging and smooth, gliding through the story with short chapters that make the pages fly.

His characters are real and relatable, and the honest portrayal of trauma and challenges don’t have the canned feeling that so many of the kind of story has. While I may scoff a little at someone making the choices young Noel made–and the choices her father made–I can also recognize the reasoning behind it, and that makes it a little easier to believe.

And even if the story is bittersweet (and glosses over the nitty-gritty healing process), I’d still classify it as a mostly uplifting holiday read, and one that will have you laughing even if your heart aches intermittently, too.

The Little Old Lady Who Broke All The Rules: A light-hearted commentary on elderly care

I’ve been searching for a book that reads like Where’d You Go Bernadette for a while, and Catharina Ingelman-Sundberg’s The Little Old Lady Who Broke All The Rules came up as a similar title. Book club was also looking for something light-hearted and funny to read over the holidays, so we didn’t waste any time picking this one.

Martha Andersson and her friends were happy in their retirement home until it was bought out and turned into Diamond Head–a stingy home where they are given worse treatment than hardened criminals in prison. Inspired by a dream, Martha pitches a radical idea to her friends: commit one or two crimes against the wealthy and then get themselves caught for an all-expenses paid trip to prison.

The League of Pensioners, as they call themselves, manages to pull off their first heist mostly according to plan, but the payout isn’t enough to satisfy them. They set their sights on a bigger heist and set off on a bumbling comedy of errors as they try to commit the perfect crime without doing anything too terribly criminal.

This book was pretty slow paced, all things considered, but given that the characters are all nearly 80 years old, that can be overlooked. While not exactly what I was looking for, it was still a fun read. Unexpected criminals dealing with everything going wrong and police who can’t believe that pensioners could bamboozle them so thoroughly keep the storyline zipping in every direction (in a good way).

Ingelman-Sundberg even mixes in a little romance with the adventure, giving her pensioners a full and vibrant life, despite the lives they’ve already had. The Little Old Lady Who Broke All The Rules is a charming and funny book, quick to read and easy to engage with. Somewhat a criticism of how so many countries and families treat their elderly members, Ingelman-Sundberg has her readers cheering for the old folks, even in the midst of their crimes, and she leaves everyone believing that age is just a number, not an indicator of ability.

Coraline: Spooky fun and surprisingly apropos

When I first watched the movie Coraline a few years ago, I immediately fell in love with the story. It’s up there with It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown as a favorite fall/Halloween movie. So after watching it this year, I decided to read Neil Gaiman’s book, too.

Coraline is a young girl who has just moved into a new flat with her parents. It’s one of a handful of flats dividing up an old and remotely located house. Born with the spirit for adventure, it’s not long before Coraline is looking to explore every nook and cranny. When she discovers a small door opening to a brick wall, her curiosity is intrigued and thus begins the biggest adventure of them all.

Coraline meets her other mother who wants to keep Coraline forever and sew buttons over her eyes. But a trusty cat and a couple of ghost children make sure Coraline understands that to stay in the other flat will spell her doom. Coraline must buy time by playing a game with her other mother while she figures out how to escape and save everyone.

Coraline the movie follows the book pretty closely in most things, but deviates in a couple ways. The book doesn’t have Wybie and the look-alike doll; Coraline is a solo adventurer and relies on herself to get out of sticky situations. And Coraline’s parents, though still largely detached from her life, aren’t quite as blatantly negligent as the film portrays them.

The book was as much creepy fun as I expected it to be. Gaiman does a great job of capturing the childhood spirit of adventure and ability to tap into a wellspring of bravery and resilience despite the fear that threatens to paralyze. His story doesn’t solve every problem and fix every wrong, but it leads the characters to a place where new beginnings are possible if they want to start them.

Hidden within the story are a couple of really poignant realizations. The other mother tells Coraline over and over that she loves her. Gaiman writes that Coraline knows the other mother loves her, but as a possession and not as a person. So that’s something plainly stated that I’ve been trying to articulate for a while…

The other realization Gaiman includes comes when Coraline declines yet again to stay in the world the other mother has made. “I don’t want whatever I want. Nobody does. Not really. What kind of fun would it be if I just got everything I ever wanted? Just like that, and it didn’t mean anything. What then?” Despite her young age, Coraline knows that there’s something to be gained by delayed gratification and maybe even hard work.

Though marketed as a book for children or teens, Coraline is a fun book for all ages. Just be advised, you might not emerge from reading it quite the same.