2022 Book Recommendations

Thankfully this is a project without a real deadline, or I’d once again be late in publishing this list. I’m excusing myself since (a) nobody is holding their breath to discover what I read last year, and oh yeah, (b) I’ve been busy moving to Mexico. 

I read less in 2022 than the previous two years. I also abandoned far more books without finishing them—particularly fiction. When I felt impatient and distracted reading something, I would opt to move on rather than force myself through it. Life’s too short to read things that don’t interest you—no matter which prize they won.  

Here are my 2022 selects—just a handful of fiction and quite a few non-fiction. Several of these were gifts or recommendations from friends. Y’all are an interesting and thoughtful bunch. Thanks for that.  

Fiction, alphabetical by author

• Lauren Groff, Matrix

  This is a beautifully written, relatable fictionalized account of Marie de France’s 12th century rise from “bastardess” to abbess, discovering her own power along the way. Feminist, and queer. Recommended.

• Lena Jones, The Secret Key (YA)

  My friend Vikram sent me a picture of his daughter in her Halloween costume and I had no idea who she was dressed up as. This became my introduction to Agatha Oddly, teen detective—named for Agatha Christie. In the first book of this YA series, she is hot on the trail of a crime syndicate in London. It’s definitely a kids book, but I enjoyed it enough to download the second in the series.

• Malinda Lo, Last Night at the Telegraph Club (YA)

  True confessions: when I feel “stuck” or bored with books, or feel like I don’t have the attention span for reading, YA books are my path back in. This one was a real standout. It’s set in San Francisco’s Chinatown and North Beach. It’s queer and multidimensional and really spoke to me. Recommended.

• Robin Sloan, Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore

  Also set in North Beach, this 10 year-old book is something of a time capsule of what the tech industry was like at that moment. Part mystery, part fantasy, this held my interest and I am sad it took me so long to get around to reading it.

• Amor Towles, The Lincoln Highway

  On its own, this was a compelling road trip story full of complex characters. That being said, Towles wrote A Gentleman in Moscow, which was the best book I read in 2020, and this falls short of that. Still, without that context or comparison, it’s enjoyable.

• Kevin Wilson, Nothing to See Here

  Major thanks to Gareth for this gift. Kevin Wilson is hilarious—as is the premise of this book: our protagonist is roped into caring for the two step-children of an old friend. The caveat is that they spontaneously burst into flames. If you need a mood elevator, this should be top of your list.

Non-fiction, by (arbitrary) category

Personal & Professional Development

• Tarana Burke and Brene Brown, You Are Your Best Thing

  Twenty touching and personal essays dealing with issues of shame, vulnerability, resilience, and the Black experience written by a variety of authors, some of whom you already know, and others you’ll want to know more about. Recommended. 

• Diane Poole Heller, The Power of Attachment

  Heller gives us an approachable understanding of attachment theory—the ways in which our early life relationships impact our later-in-life relationships, and how we can work to repair our damaged/insecure attachments to forge more meaningful and lasting connections. 

• Greg McKeown, Essentialism: The Disciplined Pursuit of Less

  Easily the best professional development book I read in 2022. McKeown champions what he calls the essentialist approach—getting really focused on what matters, and cutting out the casual and distracting. It sounds simple, but we all fall prey to distracting temptations (ooh shiny!), overcommitting ourselves, and/or a sense of obligation. Consider this the playbook on how to get focused, get productive, and get satisfaction. Highly recommended. 

Health

• Heather Corinna, What Fresh Hell Is This? Perimenopause, Menopause, Other Indignities, and You

  Whlle I was in the UK, I found major bookstores with entire sections on menopause and yet the conversation is still hushed and seemingly taboo in the US. Corinna is determined to break through the taboo and talk about what’s happening across our generation in an approachable and often light-hearted way, all without sacrificing the facts. 

• James Nestor, Breath

  Have you seen those puzzling Instagram ads for mouth tape? If I hadn’t read James Nestor’s book, I too would have thought they were for abduction, murder, or kink. But no! It turns out we are all doing ourselves and our health a massive disservice by simply breathing through our mouths. This was a surprisingly engaging read and changed the way I think about the simplest act—how to breathe. Thanks for the recommendation, Mike. 
  

Memoir and Identity

• Quiara Alegría Hudes, My Broken Language

  Hudes, who won a Pultizer for the book of “In the Heights,” offers us a memoir of cultural alienation and family separation that reads like poetry. 

• Ashley Ford, Somebody's Daughter

  Ford recounts her complicated upbringing with an abusive and, yet, at the same time, overprotective mother, an absentee imprisoned father and her ultimate journey to finding love for herself and love of another. Ultimately, it’s Ford’s writing that keeps the reader engrossed through some tough moments.  
  

Travel

• Erika Fatland, Sovietistan

  Fascinating account of Norwegian anthropologist Erika Fatkand’s travels through the former Soviet republics in Central Asia. I greatly enjoyed this read, in spite of her robbing me of my interest in visiting any of these countries (with the exception of Uzbekistan). 

• Helen Ruddell, The Year of Living Danishly

  When British journalist Ruddell’s husband lands his dream job at Lego, she accompanies him to small town Denmark and muses on the cultural differences—some better, some worse—always with a great sense of self awareness and humor. 

Music

• Dave Grohl, The Storyteller

  Even as someone who doesn’t particularly enjoy the Foo Fighters, I found Grohl’s memoir very relatable and entertaining. If you grew up as part of a musical subculture, there’s something here for you. He reads the audiobook himself, which makes the stories feel more personal. There’s also a Spotify playlist that’s worth your time. 

• Debbie Harry, Face It

  Sometimes when authors read their own audiobooks, it feels like a friend telling you their story (see above). But other times, it feels like they’re just reading something—anything, and unfortunately that’s what Debbie Harry’s recording is like. Still, the content of the book is golden—personal anecdotes and visually evocative tales of life in New York City in the heyday of CBGB’s and Max’s Kansas City. 

• Kelefa Sanneh, Major Labels

  Sanneh, staff writer at the New Yorker, and former music critic at the NYT, offers essays on the seven major genres of pop music in the US. There’s little new in his observations about the genres, but what spoke to me were his biographical details. Sanneh’s life spreads across three continents, two races, and identity questions around color and music fandom. 

Personal Essays

• Ann Patchett, These Precious Days

  Last year I linked to the title essay which Patchett published in Harper’s. Lucky for us, she kept writing through the pandemic, gifting us this stellar collection which left me laughing, crying, and nodding along. Highly recommended. 

• Miranda Sawyer, Out of Time 

  Another one from Gareth, the greatest book gifter I know. He handed this to me sometime in 2021, but it was only when I started to plot my move that I decided to prioritize paper books over the convenience of my Kindle. Sawyer is a Gen X British music journalist, and this book is a collection of her often funny and always relatable musings on middle age. Recommended.  

• John Waters, Carsick

  You are advised against reading this book unless you love John Waters’s films. It’s just going to be too weird for you. I happen to love that particular flavor of weird, so his tall tales of hitchhiking across America and dirty truck stop shenanigans brought me joy. In fact, the tales are spun so extravagantly, that I really puzzled over whether to include this in the fiction or non-fiction category. While the best parts of this book are sensationalized, I opted for non-fiction because I’d like to believe they’re real. 

Social Commentary

• John Green, The Anthropocene Reviewed

• Green addresses 20 components of modern life as though they were books to be reviewed on NPR (one of his many regular pursuits). He brings humor to every essay, and ultimately gives each topic a review on a five star system. I’d like to reread this every couple of years. 

• Dara Horn, People Love Dead Jews: Reports From a Haunted Present

  Horn’s collection of essays is grounded in the idea that it’s easier to connect with the tidy stories of dead Jews than to engage with the complexities of living individuals. She also denies the legend that so many of us grew up with—that our surnames were changed at Ellis Island. Rather, it was our forebears who chose to change them as a means of assimilating and of staking claim on a new American identity. 

• Amanda Montell, Cultish

  You probably didn't know that my parents were in a cult when I was growing up. As a result, I carry a huge amount of skepticism for cult-like behavior and a particular sensitivity to insidery language (I’m looking at you, Cafe Gratitude. “I feel REVOLTED”). Montell’s book didn’t provide me with any grand revelations, but it’s a much more in-depth guide to hone my existing anti-cult compass.

• Lisa Taddeo, Three Women

  Taddeo recounts the sex lives of three women who seem quite ordinary and relatable, yet I enjoyed the book, seeing parts of myself and moments of my life in each of the women. Ultimately, though, the book serves to confirm the continued existence of gender inequalities with no real resolution in sight. 

2021 Book Recommendations

I’m a bit late getting this list out which somehow seems fitting for a year when I never really know what day it is. 

I read 55 books in 2021, which according to the Financial Times qualifies me as a “super reader.” While I would still choose teleportation or freezing time as my chosen super powers, I guess this one will have to do. In any case, my selects from the 55 are below: 14 fiction, 15 non-fiction, and one outstanding short story that touched me enough that I’m breaking tradition and including it. 

Fiction, alphabetical by author

• Chloe Benjamin, The Immortalists

  Lovely tale of four siblings who, as children, learn their death-dates from a fortune teller. The novel follows each of them from the Lower East Side of Manhattan through their separate lives. I was captivated. 

• Brit Bennett, The Vanishing Half

  My favorite of the novels I read last year. This multigenerational story delves into identity issues around race, class, and geography and how these play out among women from one complex and fascinating family. 

• Carol Rifka Brunt, Tell the Wolves I'm Home

  Beautiful debut novel about a 14 year old girl whose favorite uncle dies of AIDS and the ensuing friendship between her and her uncle’s boyfriend.  

• Emma Cline, Daddy

  Cline’s earlier novel The Girls was one of my favorites a few years back. This collection of ten short stories echoes some of the things I loved about The Girls—the way she portrays female characters and the backdrop of Californian which becomes something of a character itself.  

• Tana French, The Searcher

  Set in smalltown Ireland with a retired American cop as the protagonist, The Searcher is a departure from French’s Dublin Murder Squad series, but her style and content remain highly engaging. 

• Rachel Joyce, The Music Shop

  Centered around a small-town independent record store, The Music Shop brings the reader on a journey of transformation of both the setting and the protagonist. I loved the music references throughout and felt like I knew the characters personally when I was finished. 

• E.L. Konigsburg, From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler

  Upon learning that a dear friend hadn’t ever read this childhood favorite, I decided to re-read this beloved tale of Claudia and Jamie Kincaid who run away to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. What I didn’t remember was how much I see myself in Claudia.  

• Rachel Kushner, The Mars Room

  I’ve been following Rachel Kushner at a distance for a number of years. It’s hard not to, being a reading woman of vaguely her age who is rooted in San Francisco. Kushner’s works are Californian (much like Emma Cline’s), but with more edge to them. Yet, somehow even though they veer closer to my own lived experiences, I am not quite as captivated by them. Perhaps that’s a result of my own discomfort in reading about a woman I relate to (and certainly knew many like her) who ends up in prison and Kushner’s graphic and gritty depictions of her life behind bars. 

• Raven Leilani, Luster

  In discussing books with a friend last weekend, we determined that my current genre of choice is books by black women that deal with race, identity, and the relationships between women. Luster is a brilliant example of why that’s the case. I was hesitant in the first couple of chapters, nervous this would be a predictable troubled-romance, but the complicated rapport between the two primary female characters brought much more than I’d anticipated. 

• Silvia Moreno, Velvet Was the Night

  Set in Mexico City in the early 70s, with the 1968 police massacre of protesting students still looming large, the characters in this captivating novel run the gamut from political activists to vigilantes. Moreno weaves romance and music into the fabric of the book, and the publisher made an accompanying playlist which is just outstanding. 

• Delia Owens, Where the Crawdads Sing

  Nothing about the description of this book—set in the deep woods, a tale of a young girl left to fend for herself following the departure and desertion by her family—drew me in, but my friend’s mother recommended it strongly and I’m glad she did. I found it slow to get into, but as the story goes on, I found myself attached to the main character and invested in what would happen to her. 

• Ann Patchett, The Dutch House

  Full disclosure: I am a fan of Ann Patchett; I’ve loved everything I’ve ever read by her (see the linked short story below). This story of siblings left to care for themselves and one another called to mind a literary version of “Almost Famous”—less rock and roll, but I was attached to their relationship and its complications. 

• Louise Penny, All the Devils Are Here

  One of my favorite mystery writers takes her usual characters to Paris where they discover a complicated plot involving police and corporate corruption. At a moment when travel feels out of reach, I was glad for the vivid depictions of Paris. 

• Ransom Riggs, The Conference of the Birds

  The most recent volume of the Miss Peregrine series. I continue to wish they’d done a better job of adapting these books for the screen; the characters deserve it. 

Short Story

• Ann Patchett, “These Precious Days”

  I don’t want to say much about this apart from the fact that it’s about how we create friendship during the pandemic. It’s short enough that you should just go read it. It uplifted me in a way I am still holding onto. 

Non-fiction, alphabetical by author

• Hanif Abdurraquin, A Little Devil in America

  Compelling collection of essays on Black performance in America. It called to mind another book I loved, Nationalizing Blackness: Afrocubanismo and Artistic Revolution in Havana, 1920–1940, but with more poetry in its verse. 

• Ada Calhoun, St. Mark's is Dead

  This delightful half-memoir, half history felt like hearing an old NYC friend tell me about their youth and their neighborhood. A must read for anyone with fond memories of this part of the East Village. 

• David Chang, Eat a Peach

  Speaking of the East Village, I once lived across the street from Momofuku Noodle Bar and spent far too much time and money there. That was before David Chang became a TV celebrity chef. I was a bit apprehensive about his memoir given his fame, but he comes off as authentic and relatable. 

• Alexis Coe, You Never Forget Your First

  Highly entertaining romp of a biography of George Washington. It’s a quick read. I hope she turns this into a series of presidential biographies. 

• A. Kendra Greene, The Museum of Whales You Will Never See

  For a brief moment earlier this year, I expected to be among the hordes of Amercans visiting Iceland in 2021 (again, in my case). I grabbed this book from the library and even though I ended up not going, I still enjoyed it. Iceland is a strange and wonderful nation, and their unique collection of museums, as depicted in this book, really exemplify that. 

• Eddie Izzard, Believe Me

  I miss Eddie Izzard the executive transvestite stand up comedian, but I also love Eddie Izzard the politically active philanthropist marathoner. This autobiography recounts how he became all of those things, and bonus that he reads the audiobook himself.  

• Suleika Jaouad, Between Two Kingdoms

  On its surface, a memoir of an otherwise healthy, young woman struggling through a serious illness sounds like the kind of book I would have rather avoided in the middle of a global pandemic. However, I found Jouad’s memoir inspiring and relatable. 

• Mark Lanegan, Sing Backwards and Weep

  Mark Lanegan probably shouldn’t still be alive. As a founding member of the Screaming Trees, he was a key player in the early years of the grunge scene in Seattle. Whereas Kurt Cobain, Chris Cornell, and Layne Staley all died too young, Lanegan somehow survived years of drug abuse and lived to tell the tale in this gripping but difficult memoir. 

• Michelangelo Matos, Can't Slow Down

  I was tipped off to this chronicle of pop music in 1984 by one of my favorite columns, Stereogum’s “The Number Ones.” I was nine in 1984, old enough to have my own taste in music, distinct from my parents or older siblings. I remember it feeling like a watershed year for music, but in hindsight, I’d attributed that to my age. Matos’s book affirms my initial assumption: 1984 was a year of shifting definitions of pop, the rise of Prince and ongoing success of Madonna and Miichael Jackson. It was the year of “Stop Making Sense” and “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” Recommended for anyone suffering from 80s nostalgia. 

• Caitlin Moran, More Than a Woman

  Have you read any Caitlin Moran yet? I recommended two of her earlier books on last year’s list. She’s a British music journalist whose books are a hilarious series of memoirs about womanhood, love, sex, drugs, rock and roll. This one is about marriage, parenthood, and approaching middle age. I laughed throughout and wished she were my neighbor. 

• Mary Roach, Stiff: The Curious Life of Human Cadavers

  Speaking of people I wish were my neighbor, Mary Roach probably actually is. She’s a San Francisco-based science journalist whose books each tackle a taboo topic and provide a popularly accessible, journalistic exploration. I didn’t love this quite as much as Bonk!, her book about the science of sex, but it was still a great read—and changed my mind about what I want done with my own body when I die. 

• Barack Obama, A Promised Land

  I loved the personal anecdotes Obama shared in this memoir of his political career, but to be honest, I found the lengthy policy explanations a bit dry and overwrought. I did enjoy listening to him read the audiobook though. Still would’ve happily taken four more years. 

• Giles Tremlett, Ghosts of Spain

  When you’ve visited a place as many times as I’ve been in Spain, travel guides start to feel limited and repetitive. That’s where a book like this comes in. Tremlett is a British journalist and longtime resident of my favorite vacation destination. These essays taught me more about Spain’s history and contemporary culture than my B.A. in European history ever did. 

• Simon Winder, Danubia

  Seems I have a weakness for British non-fiction writers. Danubia recounts the rise and fall of the Hapsburg Empire in such a page-turning fashion that you might mistake it for fiction. 

• Michelle Zauner, Crying in H Mart

  Even if Zauner weren’t part of an outstanding indie rock group, I would want to love her for her vulnerable memoir of losing her mother to cancer, and the importance of food to her Korean family. Crying in H Mart is universal and yet so culturally specific. 

  
  

2020 Book Recommendations

Between travel, and then unemployment and a pandemic, I read a lot in 2020—62 books plus cookbooks and travel books. Even now that I am back to work, reading provides a welcome escape from screen time. While there are plenty of best-of lists around, I like to keep track of my personal favorites for myself. Sharing here in case they’re of interest to you as well. 

10 favorite fiction books of 2020, alphabetical by author

• Naomi Alderman, The Power
  Electrifying feminist science fiction. Caused me to reevaluate my feelings about the genre. More of this, please. 

• Eleanor Catton, The Luminaries
  This epic work of historical fiction, set in the 19th century gold rush on the south island of New Zealand was the perfect accompaniment to my travels there in early January. It also echoed my feelings of the similarities between New Zealand and California. 

• Lawrence Douglas, The Vices
  A compelling character-driven work of literary fiction. On the surface it’s an exploration of the peculiar friendship between two men in academia, but actually begs bigger questions about the performance of identity. 

• Bernardine Evaristo, Girl, Woman, Other
  Beautiful collection of interconnected stories that brought to mind a film with an exceptional ensemble cast, which surely must be in the works. 

• Valeria Luiselli, Lost Children Archive
  In the foreground, a family helmed by two audio documentarians travels across the American West to record the stories of families who have been separated at the border. In the background is the unraveling of the family itself. Beautifully written and quite timely.  

• Denise Mina, Conviction
  This book was everything I wanted Where’d You Go Bernadette? to be. It’s got travel, intrigue, a strong female protagonist, and a satisfying conclusion. It’s certainly not the most literary book I read this year, but I found myself continuing to think about it weeks after I’d finished reading. 

• Ann Patchett, The Patron Saint of Liars
  This felt a bit like Ann Patchett’s version of a John Irving book, and I am here for that. 

• Julia Phillips, Disappearing Earth
  Set in the remoteness of Kamchatka, this story is both a mystery and a fictional anthropology of the region where it’s set. I found myself able to imagine the landscape and the people thanks to Phillips’s splendid writing. 

• Amor Towles, A Gentleman in Moscow
  My last book of the year and the reason this list is a bit late. I couldn’t seem to put this one down. Perhaps it’s that the protagonist is under a different kind of stay-at-home order, but more likely it’s the gorgeous writing which brings the reader through several decades following the 1917 revolution without feeling like a heavy-handed work of historical fiction. 

• Colson Whitehead, The Underground Railroad
  I was late to this thrilling novel which won the National Book Award and earned Whitehead the Pulitzer. It was full of surprises, in style and content. 

Notable mention, fiction

• Elizabeth Acevedo, The Poet X

• Taffy Brodesser-Akner, Fleishman is in Trouble

• Caitlin Moran, How to Build a Girl 

• Amy Stewart, Girl Waits With Gun

• Amy Stewart, Lady Cop Makes Trouble

Favorite short fiction collections

• Jess Walter, We Live in Water

• Xuan Juliana Wang, Home Remedies

10 favorite non-fiction books, alphabetical by author

• Bill Buford, Dirt
  I’m a big fan of Buford’s style, having enjoyed Among the Thugs and Heat. I didn’t love this book about his time learning about French cuisine (and local culture) in Lyon quite as much, but it was still a winner. 

• Glennon Doyle, Untamed
  Christian mommy-bloggers aren’t usually my type of writers, but I love a story of reinvention and this is very much that. Doyle’s candor and vulnerability make this extremely relatable, and I was struck by her sharp observations about gender dynamics - particularly about children - and how they influence the women we become, whether we like it or not. 

• Dave Itzkoff, Robin
  If you’ve lived in San Francisco as long as I have, you’ll have heard some good Robin Williams stories. He was such a part of this city, and the kind of low-key celebrity who would talk to strangers at the bus stop. I loved this biography because it made me feel like he was still around for a little longer. 

• Ibram X. Kendi, How to be an Antiracist
  Kendi’s personal account of his life in academia and his realization of his own racism and the racism all around him/us is what sets this book apart. By weaving stories of his own journey into this manifesto of moving beyond ‘not racist,’ to 'antiracist,' he encourages the reader to embrace the discomfort and embark on that journey for ourselves. 

• Caitlin Moran, How to Be a Woman
  Sex and humor and rock and roll? Yes, please. I wish I were friends with Moran. 

• Mary Louise Parker, Dear Mr. You
  The audiobook is read by Parker and it’s a delight. I definitely saw a lot of myself in her comical tales of dating debacles. 

• Prince, The Beautiful Ones
  This is the story of Prince wanting to write an autobiography and engaging a journalist to be his ghost writer. It’s beautiful and heartbreaking, much like Prince himself. 

• Layla Saad, Me and White Supremacy
  What sets Saad’s work apart is that it’s written as a curriculum to guide the work we white people need to do to examine our own racism and complicity in racist systems. This book and it’s accompanying journal/workbook allow for self-reflection and growth, incentivized by the notion of becoming a good ancestor. Who doesn’t want to be a good ancestor?  

• Jia Tolentino, Trick Mirror
  The opening essay of this collection is one of the best things about the internet I’ve ever read. The rest of the book is great, too, but that first piece is one I will continue to come back to. 

• Christopher Wylie, Mindf*ck: Cambridge Analytica and the Plot to Break America
  We already know that Facebook is a terrible company, but this journalistic account of the Cambridge Analytica scandal still manages to make it a gripping story. If you liked Bad Blood, this is for you. 

Notable mentions, non-fiction

• W. Kamau Bell, The Awkward Thoughts of W. Kamau Bell

• Robert Bilott, Exposure: Poisoned Water, Corporate Greed, and One Lawyer's Twenty-Year Battle Against DuPont

• Jared Cohen, Accidental Presidents 

• Brittney Cooper, Eloquent Rage

• Malcolm Gladwell, Talking to Strangers 

• Yuval Noah Harari, Homo Deus: A Brief History of Tomorrow 

• Dan Harris, Jeffrey Warren, Carlye Adler, Meditation for Fidgety Skeptics 

• Adam Higginbotham, Midnight in Chernobyl

• Debby Irving, Waking Up White

• Megan Mullally and Nick Offerman, The Greatest Love Story Ever Told: An Oral History

• Richard Rothstein, The Color of Law

• David Thomson, How to Watch a Movie

• David Thomson, The Big Screen

• Ali Wong, Dear Girls