We close out the year 2023 with a grand total of 176 books, 30 of which were graphic novels which I absolutely count. Even without including graphic novels, this was an unprecedented year of reading! I reached new monthly records two months in a row with a total of 23 books read in both March and April during a period of severe art block. Whilst it will not be included in this article, I also managed to read 12 non-fiction books which was always a struggle for me to keep up with. Most spectacular of all is the mere fact that I managed to for the very first time go an entire year reading every single day without fail! I made an effort this year to stop hate reading as much (defined as going into a book knowing I’d loathe it) and only ended up with one severe instance of it with my singular one star read From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout and, in an act of self-care, restrained the morbid curiosity to suffer through any of its sequels.
A brief statement on how I’ve managed to read this much beyond the scope of what’s normal for someone who doesn’t have a reading-heavy job: not only do I have very little else going on in my life outside of school, reading has become the closest thing to a relaxing activity for me. There is little else in my life that I have found more effective in easing the stress of my other activities and just existing in general than settling down with a book or throwing on an audiobook while engaging in menial tasks or mindless games. Despite the large number and speed at which I plow through these books, I remember the vast majority of what I read. There are a few exceptions, of course, in instances where I jive with the book so poorly that it entirely evades my memory at the end or books that I have forgotten large chunks of simply because I read them at the beginning of the year. Then there are anomalous cases like my memory of the first three Dune books where I made the mistake of reading them on audiobook during a heatwave that severely impacted my faculties.
Note these are only reads that are NEW to me, not re-reads lest I have every annual list include the Locked Tomb series and other favorite re-reads. That said, to honor some delightful re-reads of the year, I did in fact re-read the Locked Tomb series as well as another favorite from last year, A Dowry of Blood by S.T. Gibson. I also read several other older favorites such as the Six of Crows duology by Leigh Bardugo, the Witchlands series by Susan Dennard, and most of Laini Taylor’s novels. Secondly, these reviews were written at the end of the year in retrospect and are strung together from sparse notes and potentially spotty recollection of reads from earlier in the year. So, take my words with a grain of salt. I plan for future year in review articles, should I decide to keep up the practice, to write my monthly recommendations as the year progresses so they’re as fresh in my mind as possible.
January: A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine
Starting the year off strong with a book that had long lain dormant on my neverending ‘To Be Read’ list that was well worth the wait. The stellar science fiction novel and the start of a duology (with, if I recall correctly, potential plans for other installments in the setting) centers an enticing political mystery with themes of the intersection between culture and linguistics, institutional memory, and colonialism. Despite being one of the first books I read in 2023, the staying power of this book is insurmountable, lingering in my thoughts despite being the 13th book I read of 176 this year. There’s also a highly compelling sapphic romance subplot that was my initial lure into giving the book a shot which ended up, while still wonderful, being eclipsed by the other incredibly compelling elements of the plot.
Honorable Mentions: The Monk & Robot duology by Becky Chambers and Piranesi by Susanna Clarke
February: The Broken Earth trilogy by N.K. Jemisin
So as not to repeat myself with the sequel and final installment of the Tiexcalaan duology (which in my heart would be a top pick if forced to chose), I had the immense pleasure of reading the phenomenal Broken Earth trilogy through the series’ exemplary audiobook narrated by Robin Miles. My only exposure to the series beyond having heard praises of N.K. Jemisin’s writing was commentary on its effective use of second person narration, a POV I am a massive proponent of experimenting with, and it indeed was masterfully crafted. To speak any more on the use of narrative point of view in each of the three perspectives of the first book, The Fifth Season, would spoil its effectiveness. The imaginative worldbuilding is communicated through startlingly realistic prose with a very naturalistic lens from which to view the world, particularly in regard to its characters and relationships. As much as it would pain me to shed this book from my memory, I eagerly anticipate the possibility of time allowing me to experience much of it fresh and unaware in a future re-read.
Honorable Mentions: A Desolation Called Peace by Arkady Martine
March: Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Armfield
Deep sea as a haunted house, an already mourned loved one coming back Wrong, and the nuanced complexities of playing out the role of grief. What more could you ask for? Beautifully tragic, Our Wives Under the Sea played to all my heavy-hitting interests with bathyal horror, hauntings, and sapphics. I truly am a simple creature. If this holds up on re-read, this could very well be one of my new favorite books alongside This is How You Lose the Time War which this was recommended for fans of. The book tells both the perspective of the wife grappling with the loss and return of her wife from a deep sea expedition gone wrong and the perspective of her wife on said deep sea expedition. If you, my dear potential reader, were to take any of my recommendations seriously enough to read anything from this list, I encourage you to take the plunge and read this book. It’s not overly long and may not cater to your exact tastes, but if this book ends up being for you it will drag you irretrievably into its depths.
Honorable Mention: The Employees by Olga Ravn
April: The Archive of Alternate Endings by Lindsey Drager
To illustrate just how strong of a chokehold this novella had on me, I was in the throes of my 35 hour painting for my drawing final and kept abandoning the easel to read more and more at the risk of drying up my acrylics. This poignant novella that is not without its flaws tore into a tender part of me and made ribbons of it. Confessedly, at the time of writing in late December, I remember very little of the novella’s specifics beyond how it obliterated me to the point that I could talk of little else to any who would listen. The Archive of Alternate Endings is at its heart about stories throughout time and how stories are shaped by a plethora of forces with a particular focus on queer themes, censorship, and sibling relationships. The experimental novella is structured around the visits of Halley’s Comet as one of many connective threads between individuals spread throughout different points of history past, present, and future. Not something I would readily recommend to everyone as I admit I was likely so taken with it because of the time that it found me with absolutely no idea what it was about beyond a passing recommendation that I remembered only the title from.
Honorable Mention: Vicious by V.E. Schwab
May: Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic by Alison Bechdel
My first exposure to Alison Bechdel apart from a smattering of Dykes to Watch Out For strips I see floating around lesbian circles from time to time. At a petty personal level this comic struck a chord with me as a lesbian who majored in English. Know that I’m incredibly biased regarding my feelings for this graphic novel as it was the first graphic novel I’ve read that actually made me want to write and draw my own comics. It was so effective I even started planning one for a spell that I hope to revive in the new year. Even writing about this book makes me want to crack it open again. Fun Home details graphic memoir-style Bechdel’s childhood experiences centered on her funeral director father with whom she had a complex relationship further complicated by his death by suicide. The memoir also deals heavily with sexuality as it pertains to Bechdel’s coming out as a lesbian shortly before her father’s death and her father’s own closeted homosexual history. While I am predisposed to love this book on multiple fronts, I highly encourage anyone interested to give this intricately crafted graphic novel a read.
Honorable Mention: The Blade Itself by Joe Abercrombie
June: Blackwater Saga by Michael McDowell
This book was a monstrous trip that catered to my preferences on multiple fronts. One of the longest books I read this year (though technically not a single book being a compilation of six novellas), I slowly made my way through this beast and was onboard the entire trip. Peak Southern Gothic, the Blackwater Saga follows the dreadful machinations of the affluent Caskey family of small town Perdido after a devastating flood leaves in its wake a strange new power player to the family dramas and possible monstrous embodiment of the river itself, Elinor. The explicit horror and full speculative elements are sparse throughout, but when they strike they are mightily effective. I was bewitched by the convoluted maneuverings of the women of the Caskey family committing all kinds of deliciously devious Women’s Wrongs against one another in all kinds of unexpected ways. Not only is there fish monsters (my beloveds), there’s also a bona fide haunted house looming in the background. This book truly has everything if you share my aquatic hauntings tastes and are prepared to be in it for the long haul.
Honorable Mention: The Siren Queen by Nghi Vo
July: The Drowning Girl by Caitlín R. Kiernan
First discovered by me on a list of weird fiction authors, I had no idea what to expect from this book that’s description originally read as concerningly quirky with its unreliable schizophrenic narrator and fact of being published in the early 2010s. However, I was immediately entranced by the circular prose of the well-illustrated narrator and clung onto the threads of her ordeal for dear life the entire ride. The Drowning Girl is written as a memoir of a young woman known as Imp covering the baffling events leading up to a mental breakdown that occurred two years prior. I was greatly endeared to Imp as an (aspiring) fellow painter and writer with drowning-related motifs in my own life. It’s hard to succinctly describe the novel as a whole without tarnishing the full experience just as it’s hard to describe exactly what I like without giving it all away.
Honorable Mention: My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness by Kabi Nagata
August: The Worm and His Kings by Hailey Piper
What a joyous surprise that this novella I picked up on a whim in a bookstore after reading the back cover ended up being such a hit! I strategically planned to set aside an evening to read this novella uninterrupted and it was worth the whirlwind experience. The Worm and His Kings is a cosmic horror novella that follows an unhoused woman grappling with the disappearance of her girlfriend alongside several other women who had been failed by the system. What follows is a descent into the bizarre and surreal, a true journey best experienced in that same uninterrupted manner to devour the book whole and leave it to settle within you entirely. For this reason, I have nothing else to say about this novella other than please read it! It’s a short, fast-paced read. I have yet to read its sequel released this year, but I absolutely plan to.
Honorable Mention: The Bone Orchard by Sarah A. Mueller
September: Perdido Street Station by China Miéville AND I Keep My Exoskeletons to Myself by Marissa Crane
Two picks for September, because you simply cannot force me to choose. Perdido Street Station was gifted to me by a lovely friend who stirred me into action to finally read an author I had been meaning to for a very long while and it was well worth the hype. Whilst I had issues with the plot overall making the novel ultimately drag in the latter half to the point that I lamented there even being a plot when I was so enjoying dwelling in the gritty mundane of this bizarre amalgamation of a city, I can’t easily shirk the novel’s charms. Instrumental in fostering my newfound love of the weird fiction genre, I can recall no moment of more purely focused fun than what I felt reading the first quarter or so of this book where I got to delight at all the marvels of New Crobuzon and its denizens. It’s difficult to summarize the basic premise of this book when a “real plot” is only introduced a fair chunk into the story founded on so much muscular scene-setting, but the basic concept is that we follow an eccentric scientist with a controversial personal life as he is tasked by a bird humanoid to restore his ability to fly. In the end though, this book left me in a pronounced pit of despair that I could partially blame even as a catalyst for a short depressive episode.
I Keep My Exoskeletons to Myself made me nervous at first as this dystopian novel was pitched to me as something for fans of the adored Our Wives Under the Sea and This is How You Lose the Time War for the lesbian grief with a serving of beautiful prose. Such high praises coming in tandem with some of my favorite books of all time inevitably made me wary of disappointment, but this book delivered with tragic punches despite my typical immunity to childrearing stories on account of not really wanting children. I Keep My Exoskeletons to Myself follows a dystopian alternate reality wherein a new form of punishment emerges instead of incarceration in the form of stitching additional shadows to the punished, thus marking them with a permanent public nebulous blemish of shame that could mean anything from the person having slighted the wrong powerful person to being a convicted murderer. The story follows a woman with an additional shadow, termed a Shadester, left to care for her newborn also Shadester daughter after her wife died in childbirth. An emotionally devastating exploration of grief, queerness, social stigma and the ethics of punishment. All nerves and high hopes aside, this was an unexpected read that utterly blew me away with its depths.
Honorable Mention: The Last Tale of the Flower Bride by Roshani Chokshi
October: The Luminous Dead by Caitlin Starling
Perhaps the weakest reading month with no clear shining stand out like every other month before it nor an honorable mention. This isn’t to say that Caitlin Starling’s The Luminous Dead is a terrible book by any means. I quite enjoyed it, it only falls flat in comparison to the other shining stars of each month that even so barely managed to secure their top pick status. The Luminous Dead is a claustrophobic sci-fi horror caving story following a desperate young woman who greatly over exaggerated her qualifications to secure a suspiciously well-paying expedition landing her with a single overbearing controller who has no qualms with going against her autonomy in pursuit of her own murky ambitions. I greatly enjoyed the prickly dynamic between the two main characters who were sufficiently strong to carry the book as more or less the only character presences in the story. I was also not disappointed by the semi-spoilery selling point that drew me to the book in the first place: the sapphic romantic subplot. As vaguely as possible, it pleased me that there was no strong-armed attempt made to gloss over the morally dubious decisions made by the love interest and she was allowed to keep her wretched flaws as the dynamic shifted. An overall decent read for anyone enthused by the horrors of caving and inclined for a more thriller-leaning horror read.
November: Three Parts Dead by Max Gladstone
I was already familiar with Max Gladstone’s work as the novella he co-authored with Amal El-Mohtar, This is How You Lose the Time War, is my favorite novella of all time. You simply couldn’t keep me away from this once you told me it featured necromantic lawyers and dead gods. I’ve yet to continue on reading the rest of the Craft Sequence series, but I have every intention of doing so once I finish my current reading lineup slated for the start of next year. Three Parts Dead follows a disgraced necromantic firm associate, Tara, as she assists in a resurrection case following the death of a fire god, Kos, who in life powered the mechanisms of Alt Coulumb city. Packed with thickly intricate worldbuilding and irresistible mystery, there’s a veritable theme park ride’s worth of intrigue to pluck the chords of my interests. A stellar quick-paced read best experienced, in my opinion, freshly unaware.
Honorable Mention: Juniper & Thorn by Ava Reid
December: Between Two Fires by Christopher Buehlman
To convey just how repulsively enchanted I was by this tale, I granted it the month’s top honor hours after having finished it only a third of the way into the month. A distinction I nearly bestowed to the month’s honorable mention, Emily Carroll’s A Guest in the House, just two days prior. What is there to say about this bleak book I waited months for my library hold to go through? I only wish I got it in sooner. The grotesque, muscular prose captures the loathsome apocalyptic realities of the Black Death in a way that would be terrifying enough had the book not stabbed you in the back with its fantastical horror elements. My eyes must have glossed over the ‘Fantasy’ genre tag, seeing only the rave reviews and that it was a literary historical horror novel. Between Two Fires is a grim, fantastical fantasy horror novel that follows the journey of a disgraced knight and a young girl with potentially prophetic sight as they traverse a grotesque medieval landscape scarred by the ravages of plague and biblical battles. I caution any prospective readers that this novel is exactly as dark as it ought to be and features some of the grimmest portraits of humanity I have seen depicted in a novel. These horrors are only made bearable by the sublime muscular prose that dares to describe some of the wildest scenes in fiction. I could not recommend this book more to the discerning reader intrigued by its premise.
Honorable Mention: A Guest in the House by Emily Carroll
Bonus: Fiction* Tierlist
As a fun little bonus I put together a tier list ranking all the fiction books, short story collections, and graphic novels I read this year from an end of 2023 perspective. I am excluding non-fiction books solely because I prefer not to give ratings with the exception of the graphic memoir Fun Home. Some of these books are suffering purely because of the time that I happened to read them, far enough in the past where even a decent and otherwise not easily forgotten book that may have stayed with me over the span of a couple of months has since fallen into the disgraceful forgotten tier. Simply the tragic consequences of my wretched memory! For graphic novel series, I’ve included only the cover for the first volume to represent the entire series/all of the volumes I read this year as my opinions tended to be quite uniform across the volumes read this year. My 34 re-reads were also included in this ranking.
Notes on some of these choices:
The only reason that the Infernal Devices trilogy is ranked as high as it is because I had the distinct pleasure of when I found out that the founder of the Shadowhunters was named Johnathan Shadowhunter, I laughed so hard I nearly crashed my car. It's as laughable as John Dark Souls.