It’s that time of year again: looking back on the books that moved from the to-be-read to read shelf. Every year I try to pick out the ten that struck me most, though usually I cheat by adding some trilogies.
Most of these weren’t published in 2024, but I did read them this year. You’ll also notice a heavy lean towards sci-fi, a genre bend that I thought would be temporary but has stuck with me for the past few years.
So, without further ado:
The Children of Time series by Adrian Tchaikovsky
If you’ve been following me for any time of all, you’ll be used to my raving by now. You know how sci-fi often has a really good plot, or is really well written, but rarely both? Not here.
This series follows humanity far in the future, where the last remnants of our people try to keep dominion over the universe. It is…weird, admittedly, as the confused texts of friends who I’ve recommended it to can attest. But I read it at the beginning of the year and still think about it, so give it a go.
The Tyrant Philosophers series by Adrian Tchaikovsky
Okay, I promise this list isn’t all Tchaikovsky. Just, like, a third of it.
This trilogy is actually fantasy, which isn’t usually my cup of tea. But it has a main character who I immediately fell in love with, rich world-building that doesn’t feel sludgy, and a great lesson on what freedom actually means.
Service Model by…Adrian Tchaikovsky
Last one, I promise. This stand-alone book focuses on a servant robot who no longer has someone to serve. What’s a bot to do?
It’s an incredible look at what it means to have a purpose, and how our reaction to hardships can shape them. It’s also laugh-out-loud funny at times, if you’re into dry, British humor.
17776 by Jon Bois
This isn’t a book so much as a weird, serialized multimedia thing, but stick with me: sentient space probes.
Humans have found immortality, and to pass the time, American football has turned into this outlandish, complicated, globe-spanning game.
(I’m fully aware that if someone told me to read this I’d slowly back away. But it’s good and weird and made me emotional.)
You can check it out here. And, no, it’s not the wrong link.
The Creative Act by Rick Rubin
It’s not often a nonfiction book makes my list, but here we are. This manifesto on what it means to be creative treads dangerously close to being self-help nonsense, but it someone manages to praise the power of creating art without getting soppy.
I recommend reading it in snippets. Start your day with a cup of coffee and a few pages of inspiration.
My Name is Red by Orhan Pamuk
This one doesn’t really fit in with the rest of the list. It’s a Turkish novel focusing on a group of miniaturists trying to figure out who’s murdered one of their own.
Each chapter is told by a different narrator — one being the dead man himself — and dives into art, politics, love, culture, religion, family, and any other wide-ranging topic you can think of. It’s beautifully written, not at all the genre I would typically pick up, but well worth the time.
Childhood’s End by Arthur C. Clarke
I somehow managed to read this classic 50s sci-fi novel before coming across any spoilers, and without even really knowing what it was about. I just knew I liked Clarke’s work and wanted to give something else of his a try.
If you haven’t read it yet, I’d suggest you do the same. It’s an alien story, if that helps, but I really think it’s best read when you go in blind.
Axiomatic by Greg Egan
Oh, Egan. An author as mysterious as his writings. (He’s never been photographed and lives an incredibly private life, despite being a prolific writer.)
I’ve really developed a love for short story collections this year, and Axiomatic is easily at the top of the list. What I love about sci-fi is its ability to look forward as a way of looking inward, and Egan does so beautifully.
All the Names by Saramago
Saramago’s writing makes my list almost every year. It’s always great to find an author you love who wrote a lot.
This one is about an archive clerk who finds the card of a random woman and becomes obsessed with the idea of finding her. Like most of Saramago’s work, the story is told with a stream-of-consciousness, rambling garden path sentences, but it works.
Orbital by Samantha Harvey
Sometimes really obvious metaphor is okay. In this one, a group of astronauts circle the earth and reflect on what’s important in their individual worlds.
It’s one of those stories that makes you realize how rare and amazing it is to be alive. If you don’t enjoy books that are light on plot, this probably isn’t for you. Even though it falls just over 200 pages, it took me awhile to read because I paused to savor every sentence.
Komentarze