You Should Read This: An Appreciation of Maya Angelou

Books that I read to blurb or edit are not included in this list. I read over 200 books in 2024, counting books read for editing and feedback as well as for pleasure.

My Top Reads of the Year

Chain Gang All Stars by Nana Kwame Adjel-Brenyah is near future SF focused on the prison system, and is a gripping, savage indictment of the way we treat criminals.

The Last Hour Between Worlds by Melissa Caruso is modern day fantasy with gorgeous worldbuilding and a great queer protagonist.

Dungeon Crawler Carl by Matt Dinniman (and all the subsequent books) are amazing examples of LitRPG, and if you like to play games, you will love these books. This was originally an indie book, but it’s been picked up by a major publisher and is very available.

Menewood by Nicola Griffith is the sequel to her amazing book Hild, and is just as beautifully written.

The Ballad of Perilous Graves by Alex Jennings is fantasy set in a post-Katrina New Orleans and it is gorgeous. I interviewed Alex for If This Goes On; Don’t Panic. You can find the episode here.

The Last Shield by Cameron Johnston is Diehard in a castle with a strong female protagonist and I ate this up.

The Eyes Are the Best Part by Monika Kim is a horror thriller that is transfixing.

Liberty’s Daughter by Naomi Kritzer is near-ish future SF that shows you what a libertarian state really would look like.

Metallic Love by Tanith Lee is the sequel to The Silver Metal Lover so if you loved that book the way I did, you’re welcome.

Alien Clay by Adrian Tchaikovsky is wonderful SF that feels very timely.

How to Be the Dark Lord and Die Trying by Django Wexler is funny as hell and well worth picking up. I’m really looking forward to the sequel.

Someone You Can Build a Nest In by John Wiswell is cozy horror and an utterly delightful love story.

Other 2024 Reads I Really Enjoyed and Highly Recommend

The Poisons We Drink – Bethany Baptiste
Ancestral Night – Elizabeth Bear
Necessary Poisons – Andrea Blythe
The Savage Detectives – Roberto Bolano
Fortune’s Fool – Angela Boord
The Outcast Mage – Annabel Campbell
The Fall is All There Is – C.M. Caplan
Ring Shout – P. Djeli Clark
The Mercy of Gods – James S.A. Corey
Carl’s Doomsday Scenario – Matt Dinniman
The Dungeon Anarchist’s Cookbook – Matt Dinniman
The Eye of the Bedlam Bride – Matt Dinniman
The Gate of the Feral Gods – Matt Dinniman
The Reformatory – Tananarive Due
The Spell Shop – Sarah Beth Durst
Dr. No – Perceval Everett
God’s Country – Perceval Everett
Under the Skin – Michael Faber
Victorian Psycho – Virginia Feito
Shades of Grey – Jasper Fforde
Dragonslave – Dominque Glass
The Unstrung Harp – Edward Gorey
Hild – Nicola Griffith (reread)
This Princess Kills Monsters – Ry Herman
Still the Sun – Charlie N. Holmberg
Dead Set – Richard Kadrey
Fateless – Julie Kagawa
When the Tides Held the Moon – Venessa Vida Kelley
A Sorceress Comes to Call – T. Kingfisher
The Bones Beneath my Skin – TJ Klune
The Poppy War – R.F. Kuang (reread)
Station Eternity – Mur Lafferty
Red Sister (Book of the Ancestor 1) – Mark Lawrence
Grey Sister (Book of the Ancestor 2) – Mark Lawrence
Holy Sister (Book of the Ancestor 3) – Mark Lawrence
The Scarlet Throne – Amy Leow
Six Crimson Cranes – Elizabeth Lim
Black Mouth – Ronald Malfi
Legacy of the Brightwash – Krystle Matar
Adrift in Currents Clean and Clear – Seanan Mcguire
The Fifth Veil of Salome – Silvia Moreno-Garcia
The Tusks of Extinction – Ray Nayler
The Witchstone – Henry H. Neff
Hum – Helen Phillips
Haunt Sweet Home – Sarah Pinsker
The Book of Doors – Gareth Powell
Hells Acre – Lilith Saintcrow
The Incandescent – Emily Tesh
Camp Damascus – Chuck Tingle
Womb City – Tlotlo Tsamaase
State of Paradise – Laura Van den Berg
The SafeKeep – Yael Van der Wouden
Saga, Vols 2, 3, 4, 5 – Brian Vaughn
Horse of a Different Color – Howard Waldrop
Wheel of the Infinite – Martha Wells
The Witch King – Martha Wells
The Staircase in the Woods – Chuck Wendig
The Nickel Boys – Colson Whitehead
Firewatch – Connie Willis

So I read a book recently and I loved some parts of it and other parts…not so much. And I’ve been thinking about it ever since because there was one part of it I just adored but I don’t feel like I could tell anyone to read the book without a big “hey and you should watch out for this” addendum. I’d bounced off a previous book by this author with what was supposed to be grimdark but had a big ol’ weirdly ungrimdark gendered cliché early on that made me think so hard about it that I couldn’t pay attention to the rest of the book, so I was already a little cautious, yet optimistic because I knew the author to be a good writer.

I’ve talked before about reading when the protagonist is markedly not you, and how used to it women — and other members of the vast majority the mainstream media calls Other — become. And this was a good example of a very young, very male, very heterosexual book. Which God knows I’m not opposed to. I remain a huge fan of the Warren Murphy and Richard Sapir Destroyer series and Doc Savage was a big influence on me, growing up.

So why did this book hit me so hard in an unhappy place? Because it was so smart and funny and beautifully written and involved connected stories about a favorite city and magic, which are three of my favorite things. And because it had a chapter that was one of the best short stories about addiction that I’ve read, and that left me thinking about it in a way that will probably shape at least one future story.

And yet. And yet. And yet. Women were either powerful and unfuckable for one reason or another or else fell into the category marked “women the protagonist sleeps with”, who usually didn’t even get a name. Moments of homophobic rape humor, marked by a repeated insistence on the sanctity of the hero’s anus, and a scene in which he embraces being thought gay in order to save himself from a terrible fate, ha ha, isn’t that amusing. And I’m like…jesus, there is so much to love about this book but it’s like the author reaches out and slaps me away once a chapter or so.

Why? Because representation matters. At one point or another a writer needs to look at representation in their book, try to perceive what it is saying to readers, and make a choice about that. Authors may choose to offend or shock, sometimes in the name of social change, like Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin, John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath, or Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird. Or they may do so by pushing up against the boundaries of art, like James Joyce’s Ulysses, William S. Burroughs’ Naked Lunch, or Kate Chopin’s The Awakening. The list of books challenged for one reason or another is long and full of wonderful writers. But — in my opinion — stirring the shit isn’t a good reason.

Books shouldn’t be banned. Books should be discussed, argued about, and used to learn and advance. Certainly there are books to exist to offend and use it as a marketing technique. This is not a new phenomenon, and it’s something that some authors use to good financial effect, like the authors who promise not just that the reader will find themselves in the book but that by some strange alchemy they are sticking pins in SJW voodoo dolls and then something about salty tears blah blah blah. It’s interesting that in such cases, reading is unnecessary – it’s the act of financial consumption that matters, and whether or not one tweets to signal one’s virtue.

Those are border cases, though. Most books just want people to read them and prefer to entertain over outrage. I’m about 95% sure the book that provoked this piece wasn’t intended to be edgy in its reinforcement of 1960s upper-middle-class American gender norms. It’s simply its take, a particular point of view that is not universally inherently tiresome except that it’s been a facet of the mainstream narrative for so long.

With the development of indie publishing, perhaps we’ll see a continued splintering of that narrative as well as a move to look backward in order to find the neglected, hidden, alternate texts that show an alternative viewpoint. As more and more readers look for the works that reflect their lives or at least don’t use their experiences for derogatory humor, those works emerge: G. Willow Wilson’s version of Ms. Marvel as an American Muslim teen, Charles Saunders or Steven Barnes‘ reimagining of traditional stories, Octavia Butler’s deeply uncomfortable and compelling Kindred, Yoss’s vision of a Spanglish-speaking universe. And more: stories that feature protagonists who are mentally ill, outside traditional body norms, or outside the narrow straight/cis arc of the gender spectrum. Here’s hoping, at least, for more and different lands in which we can all find ourselves.