As 2018 drew to a close and the literary internet was flooded with “Best of 2018” book lists, I noticed a fair amount of backlash against these lists—namely, that they align too closely with the “Most Anticipated” lists released at the beginning of the year and are a symptom that the same handful of heavily hyped titles with significant PR backing are the only ones that get any attention. I think Lincoln Michel summed it up when he tweeted, “My only real opinion about year end book lists is that if your list overlaps 50%+ with every other year end book list, you probably need to read more widely.”
If you agree with that assessment, then my annual abbreviated year-end reading list might be for you. Yes, this list includes some of 2018’s widely lauded titles, but it also includes books published prior to 2018 and to less fanfare. It also skews Satan-heavy, so you can’t go wrong there. Here goes:
The exact kind of surreal, bizarre, anxiety-producing novel I so love, and one that I still cannot get out of my mind: Fever Dream by Samantha Schweblin, translated by Megan McDowell
The stunning, startling memoir I will be forever grateful that Kenyon Review recommended at the end of 2017: Mean by Myriam Gurba
The first story collection I read this year, and a book I fell instantly in love with—a book certainly worth all its hype: Her Body and Other Parties by Carmen Maria Machado
The wonderful, affecting novel by an author lauded as one “to read if you want to understand the interior lives of trans women in this century”: Little Fish by Casey Plett
The memoir I simply can’t believe I hadn’t read until this year, and the book I want to cram into your hands if you haven’t read it yet, either: The Chronology of Water by Lidia Yuknavitch
The book that made some of my female friends lean in and say, “But can you imagine if that power were real?” with a little gleam in their eye: The Power by Naomi Alderman
One of the hot-in-2018 novels I read as soon as it came out because the premise involves foretelling the future, a key driver of my own novel (though this book has a very different take on that premise): The Immortalists by Chloe Benjamin
The feminist dystopian novel I read in two sittings: Red Clocks by Leni Zumas
The book I read while curled up in the armchair in my very own Yaddo studio: Yaddo: Making American Culture, edited by Micki McGee
An impressive story collection I was grateful to have found while browsing the new book section at the library: The Man Who Shot Out My Eye Is Dead by Chanelle Benz
An absolutely gorgeous, searing novel told in language and structure that stuns: What We Lose by Zinzi Clemmons
The audiobook that made me laugh as I did yardwork this summer: The Last Black Unicorn by Tiffany Hadish
The Pulitzer-winning play I’ve never seen but read on impulse after seeing a copy on the “Staff Picks” shelf at the library: W;t by Margaret Edson
The essay collection that saddened and enraged me while introducing me to some powerful new voices: Not That Bad, edited by Roxane Gay
The lovely, evocative novel I should have read years ago (and that’s even better than the film, which I also loved): Call Me by Your Name by André Aciman
A delightful collection of twisted, gender-bending fairy tales: The Merry Spinster: Tales of Everyday Horror by Daniel Mallory Ortberg
An illuminating portrait of Satan as seen in medieval and Renaissance art, and the first Satan-related book I read for research for a writing project: The Devil: A Mask Without a Face by Luther Link
An utterly fascinating journey to unveil the origins of our conception of Satan: The Quest for the Historical Satan by Miguel A. De La Torre and Albert Hernandez
I told you this list was Satan-heavy: Mr. Splitfoot by Samantha Hunt
A book that surprised me and made me want to take a nap (in a good way): My Year of Rest and Relaxation by Ottessa Moshfegh
The brilliant, quick-witted, darkly humorous Man Booker-winning novel I finally read this year in advance of Beatty’s appearance in Cleveland: The Sellout by Paul Beatty
The novel about artistic ambition, New York in the 1990s, and betrayal that I simply could not put down: Self-Portrait with Boy by Rachel Lyons
The collection of stories that introduced me to a renowned Czech author and made me ruminate on early artistic development, storytelling, translation, and more: Fingers Pointing Somewhere Else by Daniela Fischerová, translated by Neil Bermel
A strange, perplexing book with a crackling premise (in which the narrator was born with her “gates left open” to the spirit world): Freshwater by Akwaeke Emezi
While Florida was rightfully lauded in 2018, it’s this glorious earlier collection of Groff’s that I’d like to highlight as a bright spot in my reading year: Delicate Edible Birds by Lauren Groff
The essay collection I devoured even as it devastated and enraged me: The Reckonings by Lacy M. Johnson
The book that made me remember my own long-ago trips to the library with my mother: The Library Book by Susan Orlean
The memoir by one of my best writing friends that deserves every bit of praise coming its way: First Comes Marriage by Huda Al-Marashi
The memoir about a Cleveland journalist’s exploration into her rapist’s life that was full of honesty, grace, and grit: I Will Find You by Joanna Connors
A novel of female friendship: The Burning Girl by Claire Messud
A beautifully written novel I read at long last this year, in part because I was compelled to see Stacie Williams’ treatment of it in her own newly released book: The Fortress of Solitude by Jonathan Lethem
As mentioned above, the work of literary/cultural criticism and memoir that ties Lethem’s novel to a broader discussion about race, class, gentrification, privilege, super powers, and more: Bizarro Worlds by Stacie Williams
The book everyone was talking about last year, and for good reason: Exit West by Mohsin Hamid
An illuminating, heartbreaking memoir that unquestionably deserves all the praise, attention, and “Best of 2018” recognition it received: Heavy by Kiese Laymon
As of this writing, the last book I’m reading in 2018: The Blondes by Emily Schultz