Tag Archives: novels

2024: My Year in Books

I started tracking the books that I read in 2017 and have maintained that habit ever since. I typically read twenty-to-thirty each year, although that jumped to forty during the crazy COVID year of 2020. This year will end at thirty; however, I must say that as a whole the quality of this year’s list was remarkable, which is really saying something given what I have read in the past.

I made it a point several years ago to read just as much fiction as nonfiction, and I am proud that has become a habit, too. I tended to veer toward nonfiction, but I equally love and benefit from works of fiction, so I am glad to have achieved a balanced reading diet.

I don’t like to rank the books and declare favorites for multiple reasons. Well, actually, I do like to rank books and declare favorites, but for multiple reasons I try to avoid that tendency. Instead, I think I will just share the list below — divided by fiction/nonfiction in the order I read them — and share a note about each one. If anyone has follow-up questions, please feel free to ask publicly or privately.

Nonfiction:

  1. Spirit Run by Noe Alvarez (a gift from my daughter, Hillary, and a gift for runners who want to go on a crazy cool travel journey)                                       
  2. How to Know a Person by David Brooks (a gift from a former coworker, Shelley, and to risk sounding overly dramatic, should possibly be required reading for U.S. citizens in the 21st Century)                             
  3. Why We Sleep by Matthew Walker (fascinating insight into an underrated health crisis)                          
  4. Boys in the Boat by Daniel James Brown (a gift from my daughter, Erica, and a wonderful story of endurance and triumph through sport)                  
  5. Why We Love Baseball by Joe Posnanski (a gift from my daughter’s boyfriend, Quentin, and a perfect illustration of how a book’s title can capture its essence)                            
  6. The Servant Lawyer by Robert Cochran, Jr. (written by a friend and colleague that I deeply admire and helpful for any Christian in the legal profession)             
  7. Amusing Ourselves to Death by Neil Postman (recommended by my friend, Sandi, and it blew my mind that Postman’s remarkable insights predated the computer revolution — another on my required reading list for present-day Americans)                                 
  8. Somehow by Anne Lamott (another gift from my former coworker, Shelley, who is a fellow Anne Lamott fan; saying that this wasn’t my favorite Anne Lamott book would be like saying a sunset was slightly less spectacular than another)
  9. Eight Keys to Forgiveness by Robert Enright (Enright is a pioneer in examining forgiveness, which is a conflict resolution course I have taught for years, and I finally got around to reading one of his books, which was well worth it)                       
  10. Sapiens by Yuval Noah Harari (my friend/student, Laura, gave me Sapiens as a special gift, and both the gift and the book meant so much to me: it challenges everything, which is right up my alley, and I will be thinking on it forever)                                             
  11. The Universal Christ by Richard Rohr (Rohr is a gift to so many of us disillusioned by conservative Christianity, and while this book wasn’t the book I expected it to be for me personally, I found his thesis both compelling and helpful)                                              
  12. The Warmth of Other Suns by Isabel Wilkerson (a gift from my daughter, Erica, and while I said I wasn’t going to rank the books, this extraordinary telling of the Great Migration is probably the most impactful book that I read this year — yet another on the required reading list for all Americans)           
  13. Academic Coaching by Marc Howlett & Kristen Rademacher (recommended by two separate friends/colleagues, Tim and Brenda, and I was more than impressed that a book can be simultaneously well-researched, succinct, and practical)            
  14. Never Givin’ Up by Kurt Dietrich (an outstanding book from a new friend in Wisconsin chronicling the life of the sensational entertainer (and Ripon College alum), Al Jarreau)                             
  15. Introduction to Sport Law by Spengler, Anderson, Connaughton, and Baker (a textbook in preparation for a course that I get to teach this semester!)

Fiction:

  1. Clock Dance by Anne Tyler (I have long loved Anne Tyler novels)
  2. Elevation by Stephen King (King is a writing hero, and this novella was entertaining as expected, but not one of my favorites)
  3. The Midnight Library by Matt Haig (not what I expected, but a good read)
  4. Memphis by Tara Stringfellow (really good, probably especially if you are from near Memphis like me)
  5. Heaven and Earth Grocery Store by James McBride (a truly outstanding book, and possibly my favorite novel of all time, except that I kept reading more novels this year)
  6. Malibu Rising by Taylor Jenkins Reid (well, guilty pleasure reading maybe (?), but I enjoyed it since I knew all the Malibu references)
  7. The Lonely Hearts Book Club by Lucy Gilmore (stumbled on this book, characterized as a “feel-good” novel, which must be my kind of book since I like feeling good)
  8. Tom Lake by Ann Patchett (so, so good — Nashville author writing of an older couple living on a cherry farm in rural Michigan and recalling experiences of the glitz and glamor of Hollywood in younger years — that we moved from Malibu to rural Wisconsin later this year might suggest that this book is personally special)
  9. Our Town by Thornton Wilder (Tom Lake was based on Our Town, so I had to get around to finally reading it)
  10. Hula by Jasmin Iolani Hakes (picked this up during Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month, and glad that I did — a challenging story that spans three generations of women)
  11. The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver (a recommendation from my daughter, Hillary, and I wondered how I had missed Kingsolver all of these years — so much that I wondered if it was better than Heaven and Earth Grocery Store)
  12. Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver (now all into Kingsolver, and based on a recommendation from my wife, I decided that Demon Copperhead is the best novel I have ever read)
  13. The Beginner’s Goodbye by Anne Tyler (did I say that I love Anne Tyler novels?)
  14. James by Percival Everett (my goodness, what a year of reading novels — this one won the National Book Award for fiction this year for good reason, and I absolutely loved it — a retelling of Adventures of Huckleberry Finn from Jim’s perspective, which is just brilliant)
  15. Atonement by Ian McEwan (I ended the year with a re-reading of Atonement, which I had said prior to 2024 was my favorite novel of all time — not sure I can still say that, but reading it again reminded me of why I loved it so much)

Miss Pittman

Miss Jane PittmanI read twenty-five books in 2017, another twenty-five in 2018, and another twenty-five in 2019. I share that with the pride that comes from the rarity of setting a long-term goal and sticking to it. My goal was another twenty-five in 2020 to make it an even hundred in four years, but much to my surprise I am already through twenty in just half a year, so the odds are in my favor.

It isn’t that work has even hinted at letting up. Instead, this sudden reading feast appears to be a combination of no evening events to attend, no sports to follow on television, and a persistent need to escape the present circumstances. I am reading constantly.

Book number twenty was The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman. Years ago, while living in Ocean Springs, Mississippi, my friend, Bruno, gave me a copy of A Lesson Before Dying by Ernest J. Gaines, one of those novels that crawls into your heart and builds a nest. Last Christmas, while stocking up on used books at McKays with my family, I couldn’t pass up a copy of Gaines’s Miss Pittman. However, it sat in a stack for the first several months of 2020, but as enduring racism claimed global attention alongside the raging pandemic, it seemed like the time to read this particular story.

The stunning plotline of the novel is the reflection of a 100+ year old woman whose life stretched from the 1860s to the 1960s, from birth into slavery through a life of unrelenting white supremacy and into the pain of the Civil Rights era. Alice Walker described it as “grand, robust, a rich and very big novel,” to which I add a humble Amen.

As I read the frustrating, humiliating, yet strong and courageous journey of the novel’s heroine, given the time in which I was reading I thought of decade after decade of so many thinking that the American Civil War ended something that it did not. And one does not even have to try very hard to connect the dots and recognize that the American Civil Rights Movement was not a finish line either.

It is shameful that we had to argue over such an innocuous phrase, Black Lives Matter. I guess that shows how deep-seated racism actually is.

Miss Jane Pittman is technically a fictional character, but of course she was oh so real. It occurred to me that many more Miss Pittmans were born in the 1960s and are now over halfway through another century’s journey. I wish their story was less painful than it is, but I have seen them on the television mourning the loss of their children, too.

I am thankful to Mr. Gaines for introducing me to Miss Pittman and teaching me that even being shown and told that one does not fully matter for over a hundred years is impotent compared to the capacity of the human spirit. May such extraordinary fortitude be rewarded in the lives of real people.

Their Eyes Were Watching God

37415

“The wind came back with triple fury, and put out the light for the last time. They sat in company with the others in other shanties, their eyes straining against crude walls and their souls asking if He meant to measure their puny might against His.  They seemed to be staring at the dark, but their eyes were watching God.” – Zora Neale Hurston

Read more novels. That was #2 on my list of 20 goals for 2020, and I have read four so far, including the classic from Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God. It was probably Oprah’s made-for-television adaptation in 2005 that placed the captivating title in my subconscious, and I am glad. Whatever made me pick up a copy at the used bookstore has my deep gratitude. What a powerful and beautiful story.

I won’t soon forget the primary characters, including the moment I walked with them into the line that generated the title of the book. Having lived through a powerful hurricane myself, sitting in the dark with Janie and Tea Cake as a reader was easy to do, straining and staring in awe at God.

Nor will I forget the Afterword by Henry Louis Gates, Jr., as he attempted to share the author’s complicated life and legacy. Gates introduced me to Hurston, Barnard grad with multiple Guggenheims, prominent author and figure of the Harlem Renaissance, who died an ignominious death in a welfare home and was buried in an unmarked grave. Gates showed me Hurston, criticized by her rival, Richard Wright, for the way she approached Black America in her novels, who responded that she wanted to write a novel that was “not a treatise on sociology.”  As Alice Walker (The Color Purple), whom Hurston inspired, wrote, Hurston portrayed “a sense of black people as complete, complex, undiminished human beings.” Black people as, in a word, people.

It took all this to help me understand what captivated me so about this particular love story. I appreciate treatises on sociology, particularly those that help me develop a greater sense of race consciousness, but this was quite simply—and by “simply” I mean that highest compliment of somehow making the ineffable obvious—a human love story.

It helps me remember today that, although Black History Month is now over for 2020, black history month is, in fact, every month.