2024 Year in Review

Happy New Year!!!

As I type up this post literally 20 minutes into the start of the new year, I recognize that this is the latest that I’ve ever posted my “year in review” recap since I started tracking my reading a few years back.  Another first for me this year (2024) in terms of my reading life is that I was way off the mark with my reading goals – at the beginning of the year, I had planned to read between 50-60 books, which is the range that I had been averaging the past few years, however I ended up having to revise my reading goal in the middle of the year when I realized I was nowhere near being able to make the number I had initially planned.  I ended the year with 31 books logged and read* according to Goodreads as well as my reading log (though as noted with the *, there is a caveat which I will explain later in this post).

 

My reading life this year has been an interesting one. I would say that the best way to describe it would be a “quality over quantity” year.  Sure, I didn’t end up reading as many books as I usually do, but nearly every book I read (with the exception of 3) fell into the 4-5 star range, which is, of course, a rare occurrence, even for a reader like me who is highly selective about what I read (mostly due to time constraints with having to juggle so many things going on in my life).

 

Another thing I realize as I reflect on my reading life this year is that I have been less of a stickler with the “mechanics” of reading – for example, religiously logging and writing a review for every book I read and not allowing myself to move on to another book until I do so – and instead, let the reading experience speak for itself.  Now I have to be honest in saying that I didn’t plan it this way – as the year started, I was just as determined as I’ve been in the past to log and review every book I read, but halfway through the year, the plan kind of fell apart because both work and school became increasingly busy – that coupled with additional responsibilities at home that placed further constraints on my time made it difficult to stay with the plan…once I started falling behind with my reading, it was nearly impossible to catch up. 

 

And here is where the caveat comes into play.  For school especially, I had a few classes where we had to read entire books (there were a few months where I actually read 1 book a week) and given that we had to write extensively about these books for class (including, in some cases, academic papers), I felt like it would be overkill to write reviews for these books on top of that (plus I was in a time crunch), so I decided to forego that process.  I would estimate that there were around 10-12 books I had read this year that fell into this category.

 

Overall, I would have to say that, despite not meeting my reading goals this past year (in terms of actual numbers, that is), I’m still quite happy with my reading life, as I was able to read more high quality, meaningful books this year than in years past.  Of course, being the perfectionist that I am, I will probably set an overly ambitious reading goal again in 2025 (and end up falling short of the number and having to adjust it mid-year), but given what I experienced this past year, I am not going to worry about it and see how things play out.

 

So without further ado, here is my recap of the books I read 2024 (again, these are the ones that I had actually logged and wrote reviews for).  Note that after ditching ratings for my recap last year, I decided to go back to listing based on ratings, mostly because I’m already late with this post and ratings was the easiest way to go…

 

**

 

Favorite Reads of 2024

 

Books I rated 5 stars:

 

-        The Book of Fire by Christy Lefteri (published 2024)

-        Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro (published 2010)

-        The God of the Woods by Liz Moore (published 2024)

-        The Lost Story by Meg Shaffer (published 2024)

-        And the Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini (published 2013)

-        Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates (published 2015)

 

 

Books I rated 4.5 stars:

 

-        Mercury by Amy Jo Burns (published 2024)

-        The Women by Kristin Hannah (published 2024)

-        After Annie by Anna Quindlan (published 2024)

-        Real Americans by Rachel Khong (published 2024)

-        Only the Beautiful by Susan Meissner (published 2023)

-        Mansfield Park by Jane Austen (published 1814)

-        The Briar Club by Kate Quinn (published 2024)

-        Rental House by Weike Wang (published 2024)

 

 

Books I rated 4 stars:

 

-        Atonement by Ian McEwan (published 2001)

-        River East, River West by Aube Rey Lescure (published 2024)

-        The Storm We Made by Vanessa Chan (published 2024)

-        Supercommunicators by Charles Duhigg (published 2024)

-        The Twilight Garden by Sara Nisha Adams (published 2024)

-        The Return of Ellie Black by Emiko Jean (published 2024)

-        Shelterwood by Lisa Wingate (published 2024)

-        Viewfinder: A Memoir of Seeing and Being Seen by Jon M. Chu (published 2024)

-        Tell Me Everything by Elizabeth Strout (published 2024)

-        Here One Moment by Liane Moriarty (published 2024)

-        The Sequel by Jean Hanff Korelitz (published 2024)

-        Dreaming in Cuban by Cristina Garcia (published 2011)

-        Meditations for Mortals by Oliver Burkeman (published 2024)

-        Beautiful Ugly by Alice Feeney (publishes 2025)

 

 

Books I rated 3 to 3.5 stars:

 

-        The Other Side of Disappearing by Kate Clayborn (published 2024)

-        The House on Biscayne Bay by Chanel Cleeton (published 2024)

-        Like Mother, Like Mother by Susan Rieger (published 2024)

Review: Beautiful Ugly (by Alice Feeney)

 My Rating: 4 stars 

Alice Feeney has become one of my “go-to” authors in the thriller/suspense genre over the years, to the point that I’ll automatically pick up any new book she writes, sometimes before I even know what the story will be about.  Having read all of Feeney’s books, I’ve enjoyed nearly all of them, though there have definitely been some that were more “miss” than “hit” (and only one book so far that I hated enough to regret reading).  Her newest book, Beautiful Ugly, is one that I have mixed feelings about.  On the one hand, I continue to be blown away by Feeney’s ability to come up with original, mind-boggling twists for story after story (she is known as the “Queen of Twists” after all) -- most of the time, when I read her books, I’m not able to guess the ending (this newest book, with its back-to-back twists dropped one after the other near the end, certainly was no exception).  On the other hand, I also feel that, with each book, the plot seems to get more convoluted and the ending a tad more outlandish while the characters behave in ways that make them less likeable as the story unfolds (all of which were definitely the case here).  With all that said, I also feel that this book is Feeney’s most atmospheric one to date (I heard that there are sound effects on the audio book version that enhances the atmospheric experience manifold, so might want to give that version a try), as well as the most clever – even though I’ve read all of Feeney’s books and am more than familiar with her style, the various twists still took me by surprise (after I finished the book, I realized that she had mirrored a very similar format from a previous book for one of the twists, but it was so smooth and seamless that I totally did not catch on). 

 

I’m keeping this review brief and vague on purpose, as there really isn’t a whole lot that can be said without giving parts of the story away.  I read some reviews that say this book is Feeney’s best one yet and while I don’t necessarily agree with that statement, I will say that it is definitely one of her better ones.  This is also the “twist-y-ist” of all her novels in the sense that there are multiple “what the heck just happened” moments that kept me turning the pages and wanting to know how everything comes together.  As for the ending – all I’m going to say is that the opinions are bound to be mixed on it (for me personally, I haven’t figured out how I feel yet about what happens at the end).  Overall, my favorite of Feeney’s novels is still her debut Sometimes I Lie, followed closely by Rock Paper Scissors (His & Hers was pretty good as well, but not as memorable as these two).  This newest book will definitely satisfy long-time Feeney fans, though for those who have never read her, I wouldn’t recommend starting with this one.  Also, her novels tend to lean darker on the psychological thriller spectrum, so that’s something to keep in mind as well.  I’m honestly curious to see what Feeney will come up with next – she has written 7 books so far and all of them have been very different both in scope and story, so I wonder which direction she will go next.  Whatever the case, I know I will be there for it!

Review: Rental House (by Weike Wang)

 

My Rating: 4.5 stars

A couple weeks ago, I had made a plan to take advantage of the vacation time I would have during the last two weeks of December to catch up on as many 2024 reads as possible. While I realize now in hindsight that this plan was a bit too ambitious given all the family obligations I had around the holidays, I’m glad I put in the effort because even though I won’t get through as much as I had planned, at least I’m making a decent dent to my TBR pile.
 

One of the books that I have been looking forward to reading ever since I found out about it is Rental House, Weike Wang’s third novel that she wrote during the pandemic. I loved her previous novel, Joan is Okay, which resonated with me deeply and was a 5-star read for me, so of course it’s no surprise that this new book was high on my list of must-reads.  I finally got around to reading the book this week and I’m definitely glad I did.  At only 213 pages, this slim novel is a quick read, but yet, one that also packs a punch.

 

In Rental House, Wang presents a marriage between two people from completely opposite ends of the cultural divide.  Keru was born in China, but immigrated to the United States with her parents as a child and despite having completely assimilated into American culture (including becoming a citizen through naturalization), she is still viewed as “foreign” by many people, including her own in-laws.  Keru’s parents, who are strict and demanding (as most immigrant Chinese parents are), expect perfection at every turn and believe that only through endless striving and struggle can immigrants such as themselves gain success in a country not of one’s origin. Nate is white and from a rural Appalachian, working-class family that distrusts intellect and striving as a means to get ahead and instead believes that those in a position of wealth (including the government) should be expected to help them out.  Despite being from two disparate cultures, Keru and Nate marry after college and instead of having kids, decide to raise a sheepdog whom they name Mantou (which means “steamed bun” in Chinese).  The book is divided into two parts, with part 1 being about a vacation in Cape Cod with Keru and Nate as well as both sets of in-laws (albeit separately – Keru’s parents visit first, then Nate’s parents), while part 2 takes place 5 years later, with Keru and Nate vacationing in the Catskills, this time without either set of in-laws (though their presence is still hugely felt despite not being there physically).  The story essentially chronicles the culture clash that ensues as Keru and Nate navigate a life together while simultaneously having to deal with the differences between their families.

 

As a Chinese American woman, I always feel seen whenever I read Weike Wang’s works – more than when I read other works by Chinese/Chinese American authors – probably because of how realistically she is able to portray the Chinese American experience in a modern-day setting.  I love how Wang captures the nuances of the Chinese American experience so perfectly and precisely every time – though in Rental House, the differences are more out in the open due to the juxtaposition of the two main characters who are from such disparate and opposite backgrounds. Given my own background, I especially resonated with Keru’s struggles: the pressure that her Chinese immigrant parents place on her to achieve success, with this success in turn being used as justification that her parents’ sacrifices were not in vain; the never-ending identity struggle that comes with being caught between two disparate cultures; constantly having to weigh the necessity of assimilation against the risk of losing her own cultural identity; and the nagging feeling that, even when she does everything right (works hard, gains prestige and wealth through a respected, high-paying job), it is somehow never going to be enough.  Most of all though, I resonated deeply with the way Keru behaves in the presence of her parents, especially her mother. Growing up with my background, I’ve found that one of the biggest things that my non-Asian friends have the hardest time understanding is the relationship dynamic between the Chinese mother and her children (sons to a certain extent but especially daughters).  In the face of relentless criticism from our Chinese mothers, the most common question that Chinese daughters such as myself get asked is why do we behave the way we do in front of our mothers and furthermore, why do we allow our mothers to treat us this way in the first place.  What those who ask this question fail to understand is that, for Chinese mothers, criticism (especially toward Chinese daughters) is their love language – it’s something so ingrained and such a natural element of the Chinese parent/child relationship that, when we’re in each other’s presence, we automatically slot into our roles without even realizing it.  Weike Wang is one of the few Chinese American authors I’ve read who is able to convey this dynamic so well on the page and I love her for it!

 

With all that said, my favorite novel of Wang’s is still Joan is Okay, but this newest one isn’t too far behind.  I will pretty much read anything Wang writes at this point, and I’m hoping her next novel won’t take too long to come out.

 

Also, one last thing I want to put out there: as those who are familiar with Weike Wang’s works probably know, her style is not for everyone.  She writes with a wry, ironic wit in a snarky, dead-pan style that is oftentimes misunderstood, perhaps because she is unapologetic about portraying her main protagonists in all their quirky, eccentric, realistically flawed glory, which may not work for all audiences.  Her books also tend to be heavily character-driven and not only lack a coherent plot, but also lean more toward “slice-of-life vignette” territory where parts of the story may feel abrupt or incomplete.  This kind of style may not work for all readers, so it’s important to keep this in mind when deciding whether to pick this one up.

Review: Meditations for Mortals (by Oliver Burkeman)

 My Rating: 4 stars

When it comes to books that fall into the “self-help” category, I’ve never been much of a fan, as I find a majority of these books are “overly-preachy” in tone and oftentimes also employ aggressive-sounding language that essentially tries to shame the reader into following the advice at hand.  I’ve always been picky with books, but given this particular pet peeve of mine, I tend to be even more careful when choosing self-help books to read.  Two years ago, I came across Oliver Burkeman’s Four Thousand Weeks and upon the recommendation of trusted book friends (who obviously understood my wariness toward self-help books), I read the book and really enjoyed it.  One of the things I liked most about that book was how Burkeman presented advice regarding time management and productivity (among other things) that largely ran counter to the advice traditionally presented in business books.  As I wrote in my review of that book, Burkeman essentially takes the advice that those time management books preach – the idea of “making more time to get more done” – and throws it out the window.  Instead, his message is that since time is finite and most humans are only on this earth for an average of four thousand weeks, it is realistically impossible to get every single thing that we want to do done – so instead of obsessing over how to cram more “to do” stuff into a short time span, it’s better to just make the conscious decision to do what matters most in the moment and accept the consequences (good or bad) of that choice. 

 

Burkeman’s follow-up to that book is Meditations for Mortals, which came out back in September.  In this much slimmer book, Burkeman takes the concepts from Four Thousand Weeks and breaks them down into “mediations” across 28 days (4 weeks), with the focus specifically on how to embrace our limitations (or “imperfectionism” as Burkeman puts it) and make those choices that matter.  Burkeman wrote the book in a flexible manner where it can either be read all the way through in one or two sittings, or taken in bite-size morsels over a 4 week period (even though I chose to read the book all in one sitting, I appreciate the flexibility that this format provides).

 

Overall, I actually enjoyed this book more than his previous one, probably because I felt it was more accessible, both content-wise and format-wise.  Four Thousand Weeks was a good book, but as I mentioned in my review, it waxed a bit too philosophical in some parts, rendering some of the content a little too abstract.  This follow-up is less philosophical and more practical, which made the content easier to digest and remember.  The format also makes it easier to go back and re-read particular sections that may be more relevant and applicable than others.

 

For those who already read Four Thousand Weeks, I highly recommend reading this follow-up, as it synthesizes some of the concepts from there and, in my opinion, enhances that book.  If you haven’t read that book yet, I would say no need to go back – just read this one instead.

Review: Dreaming in Cuban (by Cristina Garcia)

 My Rating: 4 stars

The past few months have been a bit of a crazy, chaotic whirlwind for me and while I’ve continued to do tons of reading, I’ve unfortunately been less diligent with the review side of things (mostly due to lack of time) – which is why I’m grateful to have a couple weeks off now and in December so I can finally catch up, both on the backlogged reviews that I didn’t get a chance to write as well as on the teetering stack of books that I have not gotten around to reading yet (the stack is literally inches away, right next to my keyboard, threatening to topple over as I type this).

 

One of the books I finished earlier in the month is Cuban American author Cristina Garcia’s debut novel Dreaming in Cuban, which came out back in 1992.  I picked this one up because it was assigned reading for one of my classes, which of course made me skeptical about whether this would be a tedious read and whether I would actually enjoy it. 

 

The story revolves around three generations of the del Pino family and the devastating impact that the Cuban revolution has on them.  The narrative alternates between the perspectives of Celia (the matriarch of the del Pino family who still lives in Cuba), Lourdes (one of Celia’s three children who flees with her husband to the U.S. at the height of the Cuban revolution), and Pilar (Lourdes’s daughter who is caught between two the American world she lives in and the Cuban world of her heritage).  In addition to the interesting format that the story is told in (a combination of third person, first person, and epistolary), there are also magical realism elements sprinkled throughout the narrative, though not in a heavy-handed manner (which I was glad to see because magical realism can be a hit or miss for me). 

 

This is one of those novels that has a complex plot involving multiple characters (I’m grateful for the character chart that Garcia includes at the beginning of the book) with a deeply profound underlying message that takes a little bit of patience to get to. 

 

Overall, I wouldn’t say that I “enjoyed” the book, as there was a lot of hard stuff in this one that had to be parsed through, but I definitely liked and appreciated it, especially for the unique insight it provided into the Cuban American experience.  I would say that if this is a perspective that interests you, this one is well worth picking up, though be aware that trigger warnings abound.

Review: Between the World and Me (by Ta-Nehisi Coates)

 

My Rating: 5 stars

Browsing through my book news emails a couple weeks ago, I kept coming across reviews for Ta-Nehisi Coates’s newest book The Message (which I have not yet read but definitely want to) and it reminded me that I’ve had his award-winning masterpiece Between the World and Me on my TBR forever, but never got around to reading it.  Well, recently, I had the chance to pick this one up and I have to say, I was absolutely blown away.  In this book-length autobiographical essay, which is written in the format of a letter to his teenage son Samori, Coates shares his struggles growing up as a black man in America.  In meticulous, beautiful prose, Coates presents the harsh realities of America’s deeply ingrained attitudes toward race, placing it within the context of our country’s fraught history and the implications it has had (and continues to have) on society.  Coates does not mince words – he is searingly honest about the “American plunder” and how the nation was built on the backs of colored bodies.  At the same time, this essay can also be read as a father’s passionate (and desperate) plea for his son’s continued survival navigating a system where the odds are perpetually stacked against him.

In her endorsement of Between the World and Me back when it came out in 2015, the late, great Toni Morrison not only called the book “required reading,” she also praised Coates as essentially the heir-apparent to James Baldwin’s legacy: “I’ve been wondering who might fill the intellectual void that plagued me after James Baldwin died. Clearly it is Ta-Nehisi Coates.”  Indeed, a close reading of Coates’s book shows the numerous ways in which he pays respectful homage to Baldwin, from the epistolary format in which he frames his personal narrative (which is a nod to Baldwin’s famous letter to his nephew in his seminal essay collection The Fire Next Time) to the writing style, phrasing of words, narrative voice, and most significantly, emotional resonance.

This is a profound and powerful book – a modern classic that is absolutely a “must-read” for all Americans.  At once a gut-punch and a wake-up call, this book is not an easy read by any means, but it is a necessary read as well as a timely one (especially given the events of the last few days). Highly, highly recommended!

 

Review: Like Mother, Like Mother (by Susan Rieger)

My Rating: 3 stars

This book was a bit of a mixed bag for me. While I did enjoy some aspects of it – for instance, some of the sardonic humor – I didn’t really like majority of the characters (except for Ruth, who was pretty much the only character I was able to connect with).  I had initially picked this one up because I thought the premise was interesting, for one, and two, stories about mother-daughter relationships (especially multigenerational ones) are very much up my alley – given both these factors, I definitely thought I would take to this one more than I did.  Overall, I found this book a bit difficult to get into, which is probably why it took me so long to finish it – I kept putting it down after several pages and didn’t really feel compelled to get back to it (though I forced myself to finish this weekend so I could move on to the rest of my teetering TBR pile).  Perhaps because I couldn’t relate to most of the characters, or maybe because the plot revolved too heavily around politics (a topic I hate discussing in real life, let alone reading about in books), I just felt like this was a tedious read from beginning to end. The ending was also predictable as well, which wouldn’t really be a problem given that this technically wasn’t a mystery / suspense novel anyway, but it did make me wonder what the point of the story was, especially with some of the characters being so unlikeable.

In any case, I don’t regret reading this one, since, as I mentioned earlier, I did enjoy some parts of it, but unfortunately, the “dislikes’ outweigh the “likes” in this case, plus the timing was bad. I would actually recommend that if you do decide to pick this one up, probably do it after the election, especially if you’re the type (like me) whose anxiety is through the roof right now just thinking about the state of our country and the political implications depending on the outcome...

Received ARC from Dial Press via NetGalley.

 

 

Review: The Sequel (by Jean Hanff Korelitz)

My Rating: 4 stars

 

Given how much I loved Jean Hanff Korelitz’s literary thriller The Plot, it should come as no surprise that when I heard Korelitz had written a sequel to that book – aptly titled The Sequel – I was dying to read it (pun intended, lol).  The Plot was a book that blew me away – clever, creative, and so masterfully done, with an ending that was wholly unexpected (but made sense given the clues hidden throughout the story).  It was so well done, in fact, that I initially couldn’t help but wonder whether a sequel would be able to live up to the original (even Korelitz gives a shout out to this common cultural sentiment when one of her characters in The Sequel states that “they’re never as good as the first book, are they?”).  Well, it seems that the jury is still out with this one, as there seem to be varying reactions to it from what I can see – some readers feel the second book is better while others feel the original is still the best; for me personally, I would have to say that I fall into the second camp.  While I did enjoy this one and found it to be every bit as clever as the first book (I absolutely loved the way Korelitz named each chapter the title of a real-life literary sequel, as half the fun of reading this book, for me at least, was figuring out which book the sequel title belonged to), I also felt that it was not as tightly-written as the first book was and much less “suspenseful” in comparison. 

 

Before I go any further, I have to say this: despite what people may say about it being fine to read this one as a standalone, I actually feel it is absolutely necessary to read The Plot first, for multiple reasons.  First and foremost is the fact that this book starts off where the first one ended; second, much of the story expands upon many of the plot points from the first book, particularly as it pertains to Anna’s background; third, many of the characters from the first book also show up again, with a few featuring heavily in the storyline this time around; and fourth, there are a few points in the book where the big “twists” from the first book are mentioned.  So basically, if you have not read The Plot but try to read The Sequel, you will either be completely lost with the storyline or you will encounter so many “spoilers” from the first book that there’s no point going back to read it anymore.  To be honest, even reading the “blurb” on the jacket of the sequel is not a good idea if you haven’t read the first book, since there are some references to plot points in that story that, in my opinion, can be “spoiler-ish.”

 

In any case, with that out of the way – as I mentioned earlier, I feel that this book was enjoyable but the original was definitely better. I think part of the reason why I feel this way is because The Plot was unique enough on its own, from all aspects, whether storyline, characters, format (the “story within the story” concept was particularly well-done), tone, voice, flow, etc. – it all came together brilliantly.  With The Sequel, I feel that Korelitz was trying to rehash essentially all the same elements, except this time around, with Anna as the protagonist instead of Jacob (for obvious reasons).  This gave me a little bit of a “been there, done that” vibe for one, and two, it made the storyline a lot more predictable – case in point: with a few minor exceptions, the first book largely had me guessing as to the direction that Korelitz was going to take and I was genuinely shocked with ending; with this book, I already had everything figured out midway through the story and not only that, I ended up being exactly on-the-dot in terms of the ending.

 

I also have to say that I’m not entirely sure how I feel about Anna being the protagonist in this story given all the horrible things she did (and continues to do). The blurb on the jacket states that with The Sequel, Korelitz “gives readers an antihero to root for” – well, this wasn’t really a true statement for me because with Anna, I honestly did not see anything worth rooting for (though I understood Anna’s motivations, I still found her behavior and actions beyond appalling).  But I guess this is more a case of “it’s me, not the book,” since I’m not really a fan of diabolic, villain characters as protagonists.

 

Overall, this was a worthwhile read, especially if you’ve already read The Plot, as this story fills in nearly all of the gaps that were left open-ended from the first book (and it’s definitely a thrill to be able to recognize a character or plot point from the first book and wonder what the implications will be for the new protagonist who wasn’t involved in the interaction the first time around).  As for whether I would read a third book (if there were to be one – which, all indication so far is that there might be), probably yes, but definitely with less anticipatory excitement, especially if Anna is also going to be the protagonist the third go around.

 

Received ARC from Celadon Books via NetGalley.