Books

I finished 34 books in 2025. I maintained a more consistent pace than last year, and technically achieved my goal of reading more physical books. I read 9 physical books this year compared to 8 last year, but that’s over 26% of books in 2025 compared to less than 20% in 2024. Small victories. While I read 17% fewer books than in 2024, I only read about 7% fewer pages. A few books were rather long. (I’m looking at you, Sophie’s Choice.) According to the moods in StoryGraph, I leaned away from the darker books and more into properly emotional or reflective literature. I expect my dalliance with Jane Austen helped with that pivot, though books like The Handmaid’s Tale and Kindred are not for the lighthearted reader. It was a solid year for my reading. Other than trying to get through even more physical books, ideally ones I already own, I have no goals in mind for 2026 outside my usual attempts at reading across broad publishing dates within the genres I like. Enjoy the flurry of charts and the full list of books I read in 2025 at the end. ...

The secret to writing is never held in a book explicitly about writing. Rather, it’s in the collective hours and thousands of pages spent reading anything one can get their hands on. It’s in the act of noticing how an author’s actions work, of forming opinions about whether a bit of prose succeeded in accomplishing its goal, so one can determine whether it’s a new tool to emulate or an ineffective path to avoid. Then, it’s in the act of writing. Of joyously beginning with a clear approach, then hitting heads against walls, falling into despair, becoming convinced the whole effort is worthless, and coming out the other side with a workable bit of narration. Do that over and over, while also reading, while also exploring the world, and one may just become a writer. ...

I read three other books between the day I began Sophie’s Choice and when I completed it. It was among the strangest books I’ve read: it had moments of pure drudgery, of self-indulgence, of compelling storytelling, of discomfort, of confusion, of literary triumph. When I reached the moment of the titular choice, all my struggles through the purple prose and plodding details felt worthwhile. But at that moment of completion, I had no words to describe my experience. Only a few months later did my feelings, and this post’s title, coalesce. ...

Jane Austen was a notable gap in my reading knowledge that I finally filled in the past month. Erin got me a Barnes and Noble collection of her works for Christmas, and so far, I’ve read Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice.1 Once I picked up on Austen’s voice and tone—a few pages into Sense and Sensibility, I had to search “Is Jane Austen satirical?"—I was sold. I adore Austen’s sass and snark and social satire. These two books are self-aware romance novels that are still relevant today, particularly Pride and Prejudice. ...

I’m thrilled by how many books I’ve read over the last two years, enough to consider whether it behooves me to increase my typical goal of 24 books.1 I topped my 2023 result of 38 books with 41 in 2024, although there were a handful of novellas among what I tracked this year. ...

Earlier this year I read the Slough House series by Mick Herron, prompted by rave reviews of its TV adaptation on Apple TV+ and my unwillingness to dive into such an adaptation until I read the associated books. In short, I adore this series. I’ve always jived with wry British humor that somehow mixes a superiority complex with a dismal outlook, all while providing cutting insights into the absurdity of life which are provided via a superb command of the English language, turning phrases that I could not have conceived of. Mick Herron hits all of this precisely right with his set of outcast characters, each with glaring personality flaws that range from endearing to horrific. ...

While looking for a new book to read from the library on the Libby app, the name Octavia E. Butler popped into my head. I don’t know when she first came into my awareness, but I searched her name and there was Parable of the Sower. Its various blurbs mentioned it alongside 1984 and Brave New World. I love alternative and dystopian fiction, so I was immediately sold. After completing Parable of the Sower and its sequel, Parable of the Talents, I’m convinced that these are the most relevant pieces of dystopian fiction for the modern world precisely because they are not hyperbolic science fiction that acts as a metaphorical warning. Instead, their story is a grounded and horrific extrapolation of economic stratification mixed with modern democratic fascism. ...

I just finished Frankenstein, which I last read during my British Literature class in high school. It reminded me of the phenomenon of Disney retelling an old story with key details removed and altered to make it kid-friendly,1 though in Frankenstein this happens in reverse. Every representation of the monster2 in popular media that I’m aware of is a green, slow-moving, large man, often with bolts in his neck. In reality, the book shows a monster who learns much about the world by observing a small family in a cottage, eventually becoming literate and quite eloquent. He also possesses superhuman speed, strength, and stamina while requiring only a limited vegetarian diet. It’s a fascinating tale that explores the concept of sin, revenge, and responsibility; most of that is lost in the classic “monster movie”. ...

I had a strong year of reading in 2023. I blew past my annual goal of 24 books in September and kept on going. I always had my Kobo by my bed to read at night, while making sure I found time and space on the weekends. Erin also read voraciously this year; being synchronized in that effort was helpful. My highlight was binging The Expanse series by James S.A. Corey. It’s amazing. This year I decided to put together charts for the genres I read and the number of books I completed each month, in addition to the full table of completed titles. Let’s dive in. ...

I recently came across William MacAskill and his books Doing Good Better and What We Owe the Future.1 The former details a template for a model of approaching the world called effective altruism, while the other looks at an adjacent set of ideas called longtermism. While I’m still working through the second book, I’ve become quite interested in the concepts laid out in each and thought it was worth sharing. ...