I’ve done a lot of looking back this year. I turned 40. My business turned 10. I built Thibeautown, which forced me to revisit 11 years of book blogs. And I, like all of us, continued on into a second year of dealing with a highly contagious global pandemic. The constant change, uncertainty, and fallout have made me slow down and look hard at any number of things. It’d be nice if I could synthesis all that into a tidy lesson, or a bold conclusion about the meaning of it all. But if anything I feel more adrift than a year ago. I’m still processing a lot of this. I’m an old crank, and a bit of a control freak, and learning to accept that I’m not in charge here is difficult. This year has brought out a deep appreciation in me of friendship, which is the sweetest of balms and which, over time, grows just more and more precious. I have also come to celebrate the unexpected beauty of getting older. With age comes many surprising gifts, and the pleasure of letting go of a lot of nonsense. It’s freeing. Life is a treasure and it is temporary. Change is inevitable. So I try to remain curious, flexible, and present.

But we’re here to talk about something wonderful: books. In 2021 I read 44 books. It was really unexpected and exciting when I dug in on my list to see the absolute plethora, the mosaic, the happy jumble, of authors. I read more authors of color than ever before. I didn’t set out to read more books written by people of color, and I hope this might point to the fact that we are getting better at promoting and celebrating a more diverse range of people writing books. I hope this means there is more opportunity. I know, from my year, that it makes for rich, varied, and exciting reading. Another theme that jumps out is post-apocalyptic, dystopian, and environmentally minded fiction. The world we’re living in reflected back in the pages. The lists (I did fiction and non this year) are great. I hope you find something good on here to check out. I found something to like in almost all of them. Happy reading!

Fiction

1. Mink River, Brian Doyle, 2010

I discovered Brian Doyle last year when I read an essay collection of his, One Long River of Song. It was my favorite non-fiction read of 2020. He loved his home of Oregon, and often wrote of it. He passed away, at age 60, from a brain tumor, in 2017. Mink River is the story of a village, Neawanaka, on the coast of Oregon. Like many novels that tell the story of a community it is peopled with a wide assortment of interesting and interconnected people. Though Oregon is more than 2,000 miles away from Maine, I saw a lot of a coastal Maine community in the people of this town. The poverty, the violence, the everyday tragedies and miracles, the love, the humor. It is an homage to the cultural heritage of the Pacific Northwest. It is beautifully written, distinctive, and full of grace and magic. It is lyrical. This author has many more books and essay collections and I feel giddy at the thought that they will be in my future.

2. Sing, Unburied Sing, Jesmyn Ward, 2017

I read much of this book in bed last winter, and as I sit down to write about it now (in yet another winter, is it ever not winter in Maine?) I remember how rich and captivating a read this was. Family Drama; layered, beautifully and hauntingly told, set in Mississippi. I don’t know anything about The South. I grew up in the burbs of New Jersey, and then came to Central Maine as a teenager and have been here ever since. I don’t know much about racism, the actual experience of it, outside of what I read in books. But I do know a fair amount about addiction and poverty. And I do know about the complicated feelings that arise when a family member is dying of cancer. Jesmyn captures all of the above with truth and elegance. I think I like a Mississippi ghost better than a Maine ghost. Come at me Maine! This book is sad, and lovely. I read this back to back with An American Marriage, and they made for good bedfellows. Though very different books they both have a woman’s relationship with her incarcerated man, who is then a free man, as a central story line. It plays out very differently in each story and is a fascinating juxtaposition.

3. The Only Good Indians, Stephen Graham Jones, 2020

This dark and beautiful novel follows four Native American Indian men linked together through community, friendship, and a very disturbing event from their youth. The ties that bind, as it were. They are literally haunted and hunted by the past. I locked in with this story immediately and it held me for the entire ride. It was a glimpse of a world I know nothing about (reservations, and the hearts of the young Men who are of those places, and the ghosts that haunt those places, to be precise) and I thought it was brilliant and elevated, dealing in bigger ideas and feelings than your typical horror novel. I loved everything about this book. And the ghost in this book is truly terrifying and enigmatic.

4. The Fifth Season, N. K. Jemisin, 2015

Last year (and this is where Pandemic Time comes in, cause I would have sworn I read this book three years ago. Oh, brother.) a rare fantasy novel cracked my top ten, The Name of the Wind. This never happens, I thought at the time. I don’t read a lot of fantasy. But, this year you’ll find even more fantasy books, and this one way up at number four. I’m changing folks. I’m branching out. This is the first book of the Broken Earth series. World building done to perfection; and beautifully written, completely fleshed out characters. In Jemisin’s world isolated groups try to manage near continuous earthquakes and climate fallout, causing seemingly not uncommon near-extinction events referred to as Fifth Seasons. It takes a lot to lure me into an overtly dystopian world, but she succeeded, completely. And it was this book that led me to Octavia Butler, who I am now pretty obsessed with. I’m such a rube, I wasn’t even aware of black women writing truly excellent fantasy books. I’m on it now.

5. Strangers on a Train, Patricia Highsmith, 1950

I have always been blown away by anything I’ve read by Patricia Highsmith (which would be her Ripley books). She can pretty much do no wrong, writing wise, as far as I’m concerned, (much like my feelings for Donna Tartt. Just pitch perfect writers, both.) This novel is a tense, taught, perfectly crafted, and precise story of obsession. Two men, Bruno and Guy, randomly meet when traveling on a train (just like the title says, right?) Bruno posits that they swap murders. He will kill Guy’s wife, who has cheated on and humiliated Guy, and in return Guy will kill Bruno’s father, a man Bruno loathes, and who stands between Bruno (and Bruno’s beloved mother) and a lot of money. They have no connection to one another, so if they commit the murders quickly and without fuss, there will be nothing tying one to the other. Guy is like, no way, bro. But little does he know that the wheels are now in motion in the machine that is Bruno’s deep obsession with both the murders, which he believes to be a brilliant plan and the perfect crime, and in a more complicated and compelling way, with Guy, who Bruno so admires and longs to befriend that it bounces around in his very booze addled brain until it drives him, day and night, like a mania. Intricate, claustrophobic, and perfect.

6. Cloud Cuckoo Land, Anthony Doerr, 2021

Had the pleasure of reading an advanced copy of this mighty tome (Thanks EC). It’s one of those novels that astounds. The work that must go into Anthony’s process makes me reel. His books are so big, complicated, interwoven, and ultimately richly successful and rewarding. Huge undertakings that he handles with a master’s nuance.

7. Once There Were Wolves, Charlotte McConaghy, 2021

Last year, McConaghy’s Migrations blew my brains right out of my head. What a talented woman. Again her focus here is environmental, but the scope and setting are very different. Scotland and Wolves. Once again she dug deep. This book reminded me more than once of Prodigal Summer, a really great read from Barabara Kingsolver. It is harsh, and heartbreaking, and romantic, and roughly beautiful.

8. The End of Mr. Y, Scarlett Thomas, 2007

I love, love, love this author. And I loved this book. A treat. Delicious.

9. The Vegetarian, Han Kang, 2016

Korean Horror. Damn, is this good.

10. An American Marriage, Tayari Jones, 2018

A truly magnificent love story. Deep and layered. Wonderful and heartbreaking and real.

11. Girl, Woman, Other, Bernardine Evaristo, 2019

This is a gorgeous book. Big, bustling with characters, busy, warm, lush. Britain; it contains multitudes.

12. The Parable of the Sower, Octavia E. Butler, 1993

More dystopian fiction! Who am I? This is a fantastic book, though. And Octavia was so cool.

13. The Wise Man’s Fear, Patrick Rothfuss, 2011

I know what you’re thinking, more fantasy, and also, is she going to write about every damn book. But this is book two of the Kingkiller Chronicler, and the first book was such a home run for me. It was so good. And this, this was less good. This huge book didn’t really move the plot along very much. And there was this part where Kvothe is with this manic pixie, for like ever. Just chapters and chapters. Will this series get finished? Am I loosing interest?

14. Later, Stephen King, 2021

Pulpy. Good. We all know I worship at the alter of father Stevey. Have people read Billy Summers? Is it great? It’s on my list for 2022.

15. Light from Uncommon Stars, Ryka Aoki, 2021

Uncommon stars indeed. This is a weird book! A violin teacher who steals souls for the Devil, her student a young trans girl who exists more wholly on the internet than in real life, and an actual alien (from outer space) hiding on earth and posing as a Vietnamese doughnut shop owner are just a few of the main characters. The writing is really good. I got into it.

16. Thunderstruck & Other Stories, Elizabeth McCracken, 2014

17. The Master and Margarita, Mikhail Bulgakov, 1967

I wanted to like this book a lot more than I actually did. Not that I didn’t like it. But I struggled to lock in. I feel like really cool people mention this book. It’s often on lists of the best novels of the 20th century. I don’t know. It was challenging to read; took a lot of the pleasure out of it. But it ultimately was a fascinating story, and a worthwhile read.

18. First Person Singular: Stories, Haruki Murakami, 2021

I read two books by Murakami this year, one of my favorite authors, and both fell a little flat for me. A few good pieces in here, one of which I’d already read in The New Yorker.

19. Mexican Gothic, Silvia Moreno-Garcia, 2020

This does everything I think it sets out to. A good dark gothic romance.

20. Mirrorland, Carole Johnstone, 2021

Good fun.

21. Niagara Falls All Over Again, Elizabeth McCracken, 2001

22. Illuminations, Arthur Rimbaud, 1886

It’s always weird to try and fit poetry in with fiction but this is the only poetry I read this year so here it is. And this is pretty gnarly stuff. Pretty out there. Fun to dip into. I think I would have loved this book when I was 20.

23. Go Tell It on the Mountain, James Baldwin, 1953

24. Final Girl Support Group, Grady Hendrix, 2021

25. The Word is Murder, Anthony Horowitz, 2018

26. South of the Border, West of the Sun, Haruki Murakami, 1992

27. Blindness, Jose Saramago, 1995

This is a pretty well liked book, and I do like this author, but this dragged for me, a lot.

28. The Starlight Crystal, Chrisopher Pike, 1995

Fun trip down memory lane. This would have lit me up when I was 12.

29. The Actress, Anne Enright, 2020

Non-Fiction

1. What We Don’t Talk About When We Talk About Fat, Aubrey Gordon, 2020

Timely, honest, smart, searing; this book (and listening to Aubrey on the podcast Maintenance Phase) has turned a lot of what I’d believed, consciously or deep down, about fatness, on it’s head. I’ve had an awakening, folks. This book is wise, and well researched, and personal, and it might just start the shift that is so needed in cultural attitudes and social systems that harm fat people. It changed my mind about many things.

2. The Ugly Cry, Danielle Henderson, 2021

I found Danielle Henderson on my other favorite podcast, I Saw What You Did. This memoir is hard, honest, and very, very funny. It lifted my soul up.

3. The Book of Delights, Ross Gay, 2019

This is a must read. It will literally calibrate your senses to delight, and while reading it you will feel the tiny tendrils of delight rise up in you, and then as you go out in the world you will suddenly find delight, all over the damn place. Do I need to say more? I don’t have to sell delight to you do I?

4. What Happened to You?: Conversations on Trauma, Resilience, and Healing, Bruce Perry, Oprah Winfrey, 2021

It wouldn’t be a Thibeau non-fiction list without some solid self-help making a showing. I unabashedly read my fair share of self-help. Full disclosure I love Oprah. The structure here is Oprah sitting down and having a series of conversations about trauma with Dr. Bruce Perry who has spent his career studying it. The information is nuanced and fascinating. Did it need the gimmick of the conversation with Oprah? I don’t know. But it doesn’t take anything away from it. Trauma is at the root of so much of the suffering, violence, addiction, and mental health issues in our world. We need to study it, explore it, be curious about it. This book does that.

5. A Grief Observed, C. S. Lewis, 1961

C. S. Lewis lost his wife, Joy, in 1960, and this book was a compilation of journals he kept after her death. I really loved this. Grief, like trauma, is a topic I love to see people dig into. It makes people uncomfortable, grief, and death. Which is so odd, given that we all are on a very short ride that will encompass much (or some) grief and will, without a doubt, end in death. This little book is a real gift. Honest. Lovely.

6. Pulphead, John Jeremiah Sullivan, 2011

This essay collection is very, very uneven. Two of the essays were brilliant, moving, genius (the ones about Michael Jackson and Axl Rose), coming at the topics, big name celebrities, from such fresh and compassionate angles that I ended up seeing both in completely new lights. They surprised me, in a really good way. A few others are good, and a few of them are not good at all, or I couldn’t find my way with them.

7. Cultish: The Language of Fanaticism, Amanda Montell, 2021

8. White Fragility: Why It’s so Hard for White People to Talk About Racism, Robin DiAngelo, 2018

9. Mill Town: Reckoning with What Remains, Kerri Arsenault, 2020

I have a bit of an obsession with the Rumford/Mexico area in Maine. And I’m French Canadian (Thibeau, you dig.) This book looks at the history of Rumford, and the Paper Mill that the city was built around (an industry that has largely left Maine), and Arsenault’s French Canadian family that worked in that mill and lives in that community today.

10. Hitch 22: A Memoir, Christopher Hitchens, 2010

11. The Isolation Artist, Bob Keyes, 2021

12. Salt: A World History, Mark Kurlansky, 2002

13. The Denial of Death, Ernest Becker, 1973

This book was not for me. It was not written for me. And a rare instance of misogyny in the writing actually getting in my way.

14. On Looking: Eleven Walks with Expert Eyes, Alexandra Horowitz, 2013