Welcome to the recap of my Goodreads reading challenge results for 2020. Of course, the year did not turn out how any of us predicted. The Covid-19 pandemic continued to wreak havoc. We said goodbye to a lot of people, including one of my favorite musicians. A lot of bad things happened during 2020. But some good things managed to slip in as well.
Maybe you revisited some favorite video games from the past. Or perhaps you entered the modern age of gaming. Possibly you decided to watch some old movies instead. You could have formed a bad take on a popular TV show. Hopefully you joined us to drink some beer while celebrating advent.
I joined Goodreads in 2012 to track my reading and to interact with other bibliophiles. While the interaction has certainly been hit or miss, the tracking is still top notch. Since 2013, I’ve participated in the site’s annual reading challenge. In case you’re not familiar, early each year, Goodreads asks you how many books you want to read during that year. As the year progresses, and you enter books you’ve read on the site, your progress bar increases – or even indicates if your pace is lagging or if you’re jumping ahead to reach your goal. At the end of the year you get to gloat over attaining your arbitrary number of books or wallow in social media shame at being a lazy illiterate.
In 2012, 2013, 2014, and 2015, I picked a random number of books and then aimlessly read whatever I wanted throughout the year. For 2016 I decided to add my own wrinkle by pre-selecting the books I would read that year. You can go back and read how I fared. For 2017 and 2020 I vowed to plow through as many of my unread books in my personal library as I could. You can read how well those two particular ventures went. I skipped writing up the results for 2018, which is especially sad since I read some truly life changing books that year (such as Your Money Or Your Life by Vicki Robin and several books by Thich Nhat Hahn). You can read my recap for 2019 to see what an eclectic set of books I read that year.
I did not go into 2021 with a plan to structure my reading. It was freeing to not have an agenda to meet but it did mean I was more lackadaisical without a goal in mind. Without further ado, let’s just dive right in.
By the Numbers
I’m always fascinated by numbers, even when it comes to books. No, I don’t fawn over the Dewey Decimal System. Although I did just discover it’s only colloquially called the Dewey Decimal System. It’s officially the Dewey Decimal Classification. And now I just spent the last 10 minutes reading the Wikipedia page. OK, so maybe I fawn a little. Back to my numbers, all due respect to Mr. Dewey (although he retired due to allegations of sexual harassment, racism, and antisemitism, and that was in 1905 so you know those must have been pretty bad allegations back then, so maybe he doesn’t deserve our respect but then how would we classify all our books? Where was I?)
You can categorize books in any number of ways. At the top I use four broad categories: prose fiction, prose non-fiction, graphic novels, and comic strip collections. Distinguishing between fiction and non-fiction is a normal classification (even Mr. Dewey agreed). I add the qualifier “prose” to those categories to be distinct from the “graphic” books. No, not graphic like those movies behind the beaded curtain of the video store (I’m not sure anyone under 40 is going to understand that reference). Graphic as in “sequential art” but it sounds less condescending to say “graphic novel”. Of course, not all graphic novels are “novels” since they can be fiction or nonfiction but still get called a graphic novel. I personally get annoyed when anything lists graphic novel as a genre on par with stuff like mystery, thriller, horror, and science fiction, since graphic novels are a medium not a genre. So it’s the distinction between “prose” and “graphic” that’s more important to me. I just split the “prose” from historical momentum and lump the “graphic” from laziness.
Oh, and I break out comic strip collections because I read them differently than a graphic novel. A graphic novel is usually a connected story that is intended to be read in sequence together. Comic strips, on the other hand, are designed to be read in isolation and in any order. Sure, most comic strips have some stories that span more than a single strip. But very few would require a reader to start from the beginning to appreciate any single strip. Even the epic storylines of Calvin and Hobbes could be enjoyed as individual strips.
So, enough waxing poetic about the categories. You came to this heading for cold, hard numbers. Here they are.
By the Numbers (For Real)
I read a total of 49 books. That was one shy of my goal of 50 books in 2021.
The total breaks down like this:
- 13 prose fiction novels
- 16 prose nonfiction books
- 17 graphic novels
- 3 comic strip collections
To be fair, I did not finish three of the books that I counted. But I committed enough time to those books and experienced enough of each to make an informed judgment. They were weighed, they were measured, and they were found wanting. More on not finishing books later.
What struck me the most from these numbers was that I read more prose non-fiction than prose fiction. I have voraciously read prose fiction since elementary school (when I had a habit for teenage boy detectives like Encyclopedia Brown and The Three Investigators). I even majored in English literature in college. My nightstand always has a fiction book to read before bed.
I knew I had been reading more non-fiction in recent years. That’s a combination of factors. I tend to read non-fiction during lulls at work, since it’s easier for me to pick up and put down than fiction. I found some topics that enthrall me enough to read multiple books on the same subject (for the record that’s personal finance, childhood education, and Taoism/Buddhism/meditation).
There’s also a bit of utilitarianism in my shift to non-fiction. As I get older, I realize my own mortality more which leads me to value my time more. At times that can lead me to feel like reading fiction is a waste of time since I’m not learning anything actionable. Of course that’s a silly notion. Not everything has to provide utility beyond simple enjoyment. But I have entered a stage in life where I want to ensure I’m still learning and broadening my horizons rather than letting my mind stagnate. I’m in prime mid-life, which means I’m in that zone where everyone starts to question the value and merit and purpose of their life.
One key component to what I just wrote is that I prefer actionable non-fiction. The topics I delve into are ones that I can directly apply to my own life. The personal finance books help guide my financial path and shape my relationship with money. The childhood education books inform my involvement with my children’s education and how I help them learn. The books on Taoism and Buddhism refine my view of life, the universe, and everything, while the books on meditation provide methods to ground myself.
I still read non-fiction for pleasure. I read biographies of interesting people. I read about punk rock bringing down the Berlin Wall. Most of this type of reading is done on the internet, though, not in books. And of course reading internet articles consumes a vast amount of my time, some of which could be devoted to books again.
Warning Graphic Content
I attend a monthly library book club, called appropriately “Warning Graphic Content”, that reads exclusively graphic novels. It’s not a hugely attended club, with only four regular members showing up each meeting. That speaks to the niche appeal of reading graphic novels, which is amazing when you consider how popular movies like the Marvel Cinematic Universe have become. But there’s far more to graphic novels than superheroes, as evidenced by some of the unique books the club read in 2021.
- Manifest Destiny, Vol. 1 by Chris Dingess
- Manifest Destiny, Vol. 2 by Chris Dingess
- The Magic Order, Volume 1 by Mark Millar
- Dracula, Motherf**ker! by Alex de Campi
- Nailbiter, Vol. 1 by Joshua Williamson
- Nailbiter, Vol. 2 by Joshua Williamson
- Abbott by Saladin Ahmed
- Home Sick Pilots, Vol. 1 by Dan Watters
Unfortunately I did not attend the virtual book club as much as I usually do. From June through the end of the year it was one thing after another that prevented me from attending. In June it was my son’s baseball. In July, it was my father-in-law’s death. In August, it was my son’s birthday. In September, it was my wife’s birthday. In October, our home internet went out. In November, it was too close to Thanksgiving, which we hosted for the first time. In December, I was too busy with Christmas and other end of year events.
The books I did read were interesting if not outstanding.
Manifest Destiny is historical fiction where the Lewis and Clark expedition is reimagined with monsters. Dracula, Motherf**ker! had so much potential but the story never grabbed me and the fantastic artwork was often too abstract to convey that story. Home Sick Pilots also had tons of potential but devolved from a unique story about runaways and ghosts into a standard kaiju battle.
The Magic Order is what you would expect from Mark Millar and a Netflix branded comic book. Nothing in the book really elevates it above anything else. We’ve seen “group of magicians must band together against a big bad” many times before, so at this point all we can ask for is unique characters, exciting magic, and interesting backdrops.
Nailbiter gets the right blend of horror and humor. I fell out of horror movies when Hostel and its ilk drained all the humor out of the genre. A good horror story knows how to balance its shock with some laughs or grins. I wish most TV was as gripping as this series.
Rampant Discourse Book Club
While I missed half of the library’s book club meetings, I did help resurrect the Rampant Discourse book club. In 2020 the site crew got together to read The Fire Next Time. In 2021 we continued with a couple more books on serious topics.
From Hell by Alan Moore is an astounding achievement of historical fiction. Alan Moore is known for genius work like Watchmen and V for Vendetta, but From Hell actually surpasses those works. Not everyone will enjoy this as much as I did. The subject matter and its presentation will turn off a good many people. The art style and lettering might also discourage some readers. All the occult and historical details might be too much. And all the racism, sexism, classism, and homophobia might not agree with others. But it’s all of a piece and works together to present a horrifically realistic take on Jack the Ripper and his victims. You can listen to Andrew and me discuss From Hell in depth on the podcast here.
The Complete Maus by Art Spiegelman has a reputation that precedes it. The book is several decades old at this point. The animal metaphor (Jews are mice, Germans are cats, etc.) is its best known trademark and also most harshly criticized aspect. It was, famously, the first (and only) graphic novel to win a Pulitzer Prize. Its content and storytelling helped squash the notion that comics were only for kids. As an artifact of comics history, it is indisputably influential and important. Its themes are stronger than its storytelling, but those themes are powerful and important. I am glad this book finds its way onto so many school reading lists. It deserves to be read as part of any examination of the Holocaust and its fallout. You can listen to Paul, Andrew, and me discuss Maus in depth on an upcoming podcast episode.
Even More Comics
After the venerable Calvin and Hobbes, my favorite comic strip of all time is Peanuts by Charles M. Schulz. I’ve collected the Complete Peanuts collections published by Fantagraphics for about a decade. It’s fascinating to see the evolution of the strip over the course of its 50 years. Starting in the 1950s and ending just on the cusp of the new millennium covers a stretch of unprecedented human history. Just think how different the black and white world of the 1950s was to the raucous end to the 1990s. (That comparison works better for TV than music, as I just realized the 1950s included the likes of Elvis Presley and Jerry Lee Lewis, who would have been close to the Limp Bizkit and Rage Against the Machine of their day.)
In 2021 I read three volumes of Complete Peanuts: six, ten, and eleven. These volumes included a lot of counterculture references given the strips were from the 1960s and early 1970s. Part of that is the rise of Peppermint Patty, who adds a whole new layer to the cast. Her unrequited love for the clueless Charlie Brown is always hysterical. But it’s the more poignant moments that really make Patty special. Her commentary about superficial beauty and love is quite touching. Her relationship with Marcie is just barely starting in these years.
I used to read a lot of manga. The smaller form factor and cheaper price made it a more enticing option for a long time. I read classics (to me) like Battle Angel Alita and Blade of the Immortal. While manga and anime are often intertwined, I tended to focus on manga that was not tied to an anime I watched. It’s been a long time since I dipped into this pool. In 2021, though, I subscribed to comic writer/illustrator Chip Zdarsky’s newsletter. In one edition he talked about a podcast he’s on about manga, Mangasplaining. I think I wound up listening to just one or two episodes. After that I discovered the show wasn’t that interesting to listen to without having already read the manga (they spoil a lot and weren’t very good at explaining anything for someone unfamiliar with the work). But I was intrigued by the premise behind one of the series.
Which is why I read the first three volumes of The Way of the Househusband by Kousuke Oono. The setup is simple. “He was the fiercest member of the yakuza, a man who left countless underworld legends in his wake. They called him “the Immortal Dragon.” But one day he walked away from it all to walk another path—the path of the househusband!” The execution is very hit and miss. It’s a slice of life series, with each episode being a standalone vignette. I was never that into gag comics since humor doesn’t work as well on the page as on the screen for me, so most of the jokes fell flat. I was going to watch the Netflix show but heard so many bad things that I stayed away, but maybe that would have appealed to me more.
My flavor of manga was always darker and edgier. That’s exactly what DC Comics’ imprint, Black Label, is all about. The imprint gained immediate notoriety when its inaugural series, Batman: Damned by Brian Azzarello, included a shadowy illustration of Bruce Wayne’s wang. Writer Brian Azzarello and illustrator Lee Bermejo go out of their way to make sure the reader knows this is an “adult” book. Batman’s wang is the start, but the sexualized depiction of Zatanna and utter trashing of Thomas and Martha Wayne drag the story downhill. Sure, Zatanna is usually wearing tight clothes, including fishnets, but do you have to include a prominent wedgie shot? And this alternate vision of Bruce Wayne’s childhood is so at odds with the traditional one that it was very hard to swallow. The scenes with Thomas and Martha were probably more upsetting to me than any of the Batman action. After my aborted attempt to read 100 Bullets and my disappointment in his main series Batman story arcs, I think I’ve learned I just don’t like Brian Azzarello’s writing.
You think I might have learned my lesson about Black Label Batman comics after that, but I went right back with Batman: Last Knight on Earth by Scott Snyder. The series throws all sorts of DC universe characters and partial ideas into a dystopian future. It amounts to a story that doesn’t really do much. The only really notable element is Joker’s head in a jar. The problem with too many Batman stories is that each writer feels compelled to include as many members of Batman’s rogues gallery. A few times you get something special like The Long Halloween, but more often you get drek like Batman: Damned and Batman: Last Knight on Earth.
I gave Black Label one more chance with a different character. Hellblazer: Rise and Fall by Tom Taylor was an entertaining John Constantine story. It captured a lot of what makes the character great: flippant with demons, nonchalant about danger, troubled past, and English magic. Take it for what it is and you should enjoy it if you like Constantine. It’s sort of like a British Law & Order: Demons, sans the courtroom scenes. I also enjoy hearing Matt Ryan‘s voice in my head now as I read Constantine comics. Hellblazer was always one of those Vertigo series that I wanted to like but could never fully get into, so getting self contained stories like this is great.
How Children Learn
I mentioned one of the non-fiction topics that draws me in is childhood education. Ever since having kids, and especially as both kids entered early school, I wanted to ensure they got the most of the education they received. In the past I read books with long titles like The Importance of Being Little: What Preschoolers Really Need from Grownups, College (Un)Bound: The Future of Higher Education and What It Means for Students, and Creating Innovators: The Making of Young People Who Will Change the World. While those books informed me a lot about the state of modern education and how it affects future employment, the two books I read this year really spoke to my educational soul.
How Children Learn by John C. Holt is a classic for a reason. I read the 50th anniversary edition. Holt’s philosophy is summed up best in his own words: “What we need to do, and all we need to do, is bring as much of the world as we can into the school and the classroom, give children as much help and guidance as they need and ask for, listen respectfully when they feel like talking, and then get out of the way. We can trust them to do the rest.”
Exposing kids to different subjects and resources should be enough to pique their curiosity. Then let them dive down their own rabbit hole. Our job as parents and educators is to provide guidance when asked, not constantly quiz, grade, and berate them. A teacher’s most important job is to make the student less and less reliant on the teacher for answers.
To that end, kids need plenty of time to “mess around” with an object or subject without formal instruction. Given the aggressive path of formal schooling, there isn’t time allotted to this type of “free play” (sometimes called “unstructured” even though it is structured). Children are not allowed to be wrong and mess up before getting it right, which winds up killing their curiosity and desire to learn. Rather, school teaches children to parrot back the expected memorized answer.
Free to Learn by Peter O. Gray reaches a similar conclusion as How Children Learn, but the method of this book is way different. Peter Gray is an evolutionary developmental psychologist, not an educational expert. So he takes a much more scientific approach to examining how children learn best, starting with an examination of hunter-gatherer cultures and moving through the historical antecedents of modern public schools.
It basically boils down to letting kids learn what they want to learn and how they want to learn rather than forcing a standardized curriculum on every single student. Instilling a “playful” mindset to education will serve the kids far better and longer than any rote memorization and closed book tests. A great quote from Free to Learn is “Because the child at play is not worrying about his or her future, and because the child at play suffers no real-world consequence for failing, the child at play is not afraid of failure.”
Like my study of Taoism, both of these books feel like finally finding the truth. I just “get it” and appreciate it all intuitively. And I hope to employ the philosophy and its tenets with my own children to create smart, curious, independent adults.
Personal Matters
Longtime readers of Rampant Discourse know I listen to The Tim Ferriss Podcast. I don’t listen to every episode since they are so long and many guests or topics don’t interest me. When I saw Matthew McConaughey was a guest, though, I immediately downloaded it to listen. It turned out McConaughy was touting his new book, Greenlights. I liked what I heard on the podcast and decided to listen to the audio book. Greenlights is part memoir and part self help. I appreciate that McConaughey used the concept of “greenlights” and reshaping red lights or yellow lights into green ones as the basis for framing his life story. Sometimes his life felt a little too charmed. His fame and money let him do a lot of stuff that normal people can’t, but ultimately it is his fearlessness and love of life experiences that propels him. There’s certainly life lessons to pick up from McConaughey’s life so far, I just think it might have been a little better to not to be so explicit about teaching them and just let them be implicit. Still, listening to McConaughey’s voice for the duration of the book was a pleasure in itself.
After my movement to read more Black voices after 2020’s racial conflicts, I sadly only read one book on the topic in 2021. I feel a bit disappointed in myself for letting such an important issue slide into the background yet again. Driving through Baltimore on New Year’s Eve and seeing all the Black Lives Matter signs still hanging reminded me that there is still change to come. To that end, Stamped by Jason Reynolds is a great not history history book that would be a fine addition to all history curricula. It’s accessible while providing more than enough context for everyone to get a better understanding of racism in America. Having not read the original Stamped I can’t say for sure how well Reynolds captures Kendi’s work. But I can say this book should appeal to a wide audience. Reynolds’ writing is always super accessible and powerful. A lot of the book feels like he is sitting next to you and dropping a monologue of knowledge and history on you.
Perhaps one reason the anti-racism issue fell by the wayside for me in 2021 was the death of my father-in-law in July. His slow deterioration in the first half of the year coupled with the ongoing pandemic occupied enough mind space. The second half of the year was occupied with handling his affairs after his death and helping my mother-in-law carry on with her life. It was at this time that I finally cracked open Fear by Thich Nhat Hanh. Like most Thich Nhat Hahn books, I could have just highlighted the entire book. His wisdom is so insightful and so clearly stated. There’s no esotericism to work through. True, the same concepts get discussed multiple times, but they are important concepts and presented in different ways. A good portion of the book focuses on death and the concept of no-birth no-death. I liked that he focuses on happiness. It might be trite to say the best way to combat fear is to just be happy. But Hahn teaches how to embrace your fear and anxiety to lessen their impact while encouraging you to appreciate the happiness you do have in your life. Something as simple as being grateful for your eyesight helps break you out of the rut we all find ourselves in. It’s not a matter of being thankful you aren’t blind, it’s truly appreciating what your eyesight provides.
On the topic of death, Ask Iwata pays loving tribute to Satoru Iwata, the late president of Nintendo. This quote by Shigesato Itoi, from the penultimate chapter, sums up Iwata perfectly.
Iwata thoroughly enjoyed seeing people smile. This was behind his management philosophy for Nintendo. I think his life’s work was to foster happiness. And he was the kind of guy who spared no effort to achieve that goal. He loved supporting people, loved to understand things, and loved the communication so essential to the process.
The rest of the book provides the details and inner thoughts from Iwata himself. The “words of wisdom” contained in Ask Iwata might be told through a business lens but they are often far more personal. It’s a nice tribute to the former president of Nintendo who also brought us beloved games like Kirby’s Dream Land, Super Smash Bros., and Pokemon Snap. Being a programmer myself, it was most fascinating to read how Iwata applied his analytical thinking to other arenas. It really aligned with my own thoughts on how my coding skills translate to other life skills.
Another interesting book related to my career as a software engineer was Software Craftsmanship by Pete McBreen. The book posits treating software development not like an engineering task but like the old craftsman model. Rather than attempt to train and treat workers as replaceable cogs in an assembly line, developers should take ownership of their products and stake their reputation on each release. Software craftsmen should be much sought after for the quality of their work, and they in turn must be willing to take on apprentices and journeymen to help pass along that quality to the next generation. Like Ask Iwata, the focus on people and relationships over other metrics really appeals to me. That said, while a system of craftsmen, journeymen, and apprentices sounds more ideal than the current reality (or the reality of 20 years ago, when this book was written), it would take buy-in from the entire software development world to make it work. From the developers to the managers to the customers, everyone would have to change their mindset. Otherwise there’s not really a good way to fit the true on-the-job training necessary to support the apprentice to journeyman to craftsman system. I have seen the value in finding a good mentor to learn from during my 20 years as a software engineer, though. As I enter the latter half of my career, I look forward to transitioning from the mentee to the mentor.
While my career and lifelong passion is software development, my son’s ambition is playing baseball. Every question about his favorite activity or favorite place or life goal is related to baseball. As a doting father who takes an interest in his children’s interests, I wanted to dive into a sport I’m only tangentially familiar with. With multiple practices each week throughout the spring, summer, and fall, I had plenty of time to read. The Science of Hitting by Ted Williams and The Physics of Pitching by Len Solesky covered the mechanical aspects while Off Speed by Terry McDermott provided plenty of old timer anecdotes from baseball’s history. I’ll never be an expert but I enjoy all the history and depth to the game.
Money Matters
Another topic I’ll never be an expert in but will keep learning more about is personal finance. As I mentioned above, I am entering the second half of my working years so retirement planning is already on my mind. While I might only be 41 years old, I would love to be able to retire at 59.5 years old when I can start withdrawing from retirement savings accounts without penalty. Even just knowing that age rule is a step along that path. I’ve focused mostly on grand schemes like FIRE and other financial independence plans. This year I narrowed down and read books specifically about retirement plannings.
Death And Taxes by Art McPherson and Michael Canet builds itself around this quote from Judge Learned Hand.
Any one may so arrange his affairs that his taxes shall be as low as possible; he is not bound to choose that pattern which will best pay the Treasury; there is not even a patriotic duty to increase one’s taxes.
The book spends its entire first chapter convincing you that taxes will rise over time because services, like Social Security, need more funding than they currently have. Yet the book teaches you to avoid paying taxes and exhorts you to reach the zero tax bracket so a rise in tax rates has zero effect on you. If enough people followed this advice then it would just exacerbate the rise in taxes. Of course, like FIRE or other extreme financial strategies, there will never be enough people that follow it to really make a dent at a macro level. So that concern is pretty much moot. But there are articles and outrage about billionaires paying extremely low rates compared to their wealth. When you dig into their strategies, you find they are employing methods very similar to this book by limiting the amount of money counted as income. The United States has two very strong opinions on taxes, exemplified by events like the historical Boston Tea Party versus presidential candidates like Bernie Sanders. I could see this book getting politicized like everything else nowadays.
Many of the tactics laid out in Death And Taxes will be familiar to anyone interested in the FIRE community. In particular, the book lays out the Roth conversion ladder and how to handle Required Minimum Distributions (RMDs). It goes over some of the differences between a traditional 401(k), a traditional IRA, a Roth IRA, and a Roth 401(k).
The New Retirement Savings Time Bomb by Ed Slott was recommended in Death And Taxes. This book turned out to be far better, both in content and writing. Ed Slott is a good financial writer. He isn’t as irreverent as Ramit Sethi but few writers are. Slott explains all the concepts surrounding retirement savings plans so that pretty much anyone should be able to understand them. His jokes don’t always land but at least he’s smart enough to keep the material from feeling dry. His writing style often feels like he’s talking to you in a conversational tone, which also helps ease you into the details.
The book is nicely divided into five steps across eight chapters, plus three introductory chapters and a somewhat superfluous final chapter. The meat of the book is in those five steps: Time It Smartly, SECURE It, Roth It, Insure It, Avoid the Death-tax Trap. Over the course of those eight chapters, Slott hits topics like Required Minimum Distributions (RMDs), the difference between after-tax and pre-tax money, what is a Eligible Designated Beneficiary (EDB), estate planning, and why life insurance is better than your IRA. It’s a lot of ground to cover but it never feels overwhelming and no item feels under-served.
Love Matters
I just mentioned Ramit Sethi, the successful creator of I Will Teach You To Be Rich, is a favorite personal finance expert. I listen to his podcast and am amazed at the command he has over the conversations with people discussing their money. In one episode he asked the couple what their individual love languages were. I had heard about this concept but never looked into it. So I picked up The 5 Love Languages for Men by Gary Chapman. I only got the “for Men” edition because it was immediately available from the library while the original version had a wait list. After reading this one, I’m not sure what would be different between the two editions.
The book is short enough that it isn’t a huge time commitment. Shorter books also tend to be more on point to the main topic. That makes this book great for picking up, reading quickly, and getting a jolt of motivation to push you into action.
Taking action is made easier by the applicable examples provided in each chapter. There’s even a two page spread at the conclusion of each chapter with more than enough suggestions on how to employ the love language. Even if you don’t use the examples, they provide enough structure to let you come up with your own actions to take.
I often deride self-help books for including bullet point pages that could easily serve to replace the entire book. I don’t think that’s the case here. There is certainly filler. The longest chapter is dedicated not to a love language but to handling anger. And there’s a fairly useless FAQ section that seems mostly geared to selling other versions of this book (e.g. for military, for children). But the five chapters on the five love languages are concise and actionable. That’s an admirable trait in this type of nonfiction book.
In Braving the Wilderness, Brené Brown attempts to define what belonging means in our disconnected modern society. She talks about courage, vulnerability, love, belonging, shame and empathy. Most of what Brown says in this book was stuff I already knew about. I’ve already witnessed how fractured our society has become with divisive politics, social media, and constant competition. So that part wasn’t new. The best detail was near the end, when she goes over the difference between “fitting in” and “belonging.”
The chapters are structured around her acronym, BRAVING: Boundaries, Reliability, Accountability, Vault, Integrity, Nonjudgment, and Generosity. The book is barely long enough to get through the bullet points along with a ton of anecdotes. But I don’t think it needed to be any longer since there’s already a fair amount of repetition. I’m glad I listened to the audio book. If nothing else, Brown is an entertaining narrator. Hearing her voice imparted a lot more emotion to her points than words on the page would have.
Cutting Losses
I know several smart people who adore Brené Brown. I was not impressed by Braving the Wilderness but I knew Daring Greatly was supposed to be her landmark book. I really hoped it would live up to the hype surrounding Brown. Unfortunately, I couldn’t even bring myself to finish listening to the last 90 minutes before it auto-returned to my library. She is a gifted speaker, which is one reason I chose to listen to her audio books rather than read the physical books (much like Tony Robbins). Her personality really shines through in her talks and she adds much needed emotion to the words of this book. I just felt like I didn’t learn much, possibly because it’s mostly a lot of common sense backed up by research.
Sometimes a book just isn’t for me at all. An Absolutely Remarkable Thing by Hank Green. I got 13% into this one for putting it down. Maybe there’s a better book after that point; at least the book’s description makes it sound like there might be. But the first several chapters are too inane for me. I just couldn’t connect with any of the characters. I don’t care about April’s Generation Z issues, like massive student loans, jumping majors too many times, eking out an income at a terrible job, and paying too much rent to sleep in a roommate’s living room. The attitude exuded by April and her friends was just too grating for me. There’s supposedly a science fiction story buried in here somewhere, but I could not stand listening to another minute of this book.
I felt compelled to finish This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar because of its brevity, but I feel like I still wasted my time. The writing is so abstract that nothing really gets conveyed. It’s an overly melodramatic romance novel with a science fiction scaffolding. This book is sweeping all the science fiction awards for best novella. And personally, I don’t see why. Two other Hugo nominees, The Deep and Anxiety Is the Dizziness of Freedom, were way more impressive. Go read those instead.
It saddened me to give up on Billy Summers by Stephen King. This should be in my wheelhouse. It’s Stephen King. It’s a hitman going on one last job, like my introduction to Quarry by Max Allan Collins. The main character wants to be a writer. All of that should be a perfect storm for me. But instead it fell flat. Billy’s character and narration never grabbed me like Quarry’s. King’s penchant for slow burns was grating this time and padded out what should have been a much punchier story. I made sure I wasn’t giving up on this one just to pad my book total for 2021, but in the end I decided I really didn’t care to find out how Billy Summers’ story (the one King wrote or the one Billy writes) ends.
Old Friends
While Billy Summers disappointed me late in the year, the two Quarry novels earlier in the year lived up to the usual quality I expect from Max Allan Collins’ hitman series. At this point, reading a Quarry book is like slipping on a pair of comfortable shoes. I know what to expect but that’s not a bad thing. It’s nice to revisit the same character so often, and there’s enough new stuff to keep it interesting. You pretty much know what you’re getting from a neo-pulp noir crime novel like this: plenty of violence, some gratuitous sex, and lots of hard-boiled characters.
Quarry’s List is the second book chronologically in the Quarry series. You can read the books in any order, though. I actually started with The Wrong Quarry, which I won via a Goodreads giveaway. I was immediately taken by the hitman with a heart of gold premise. I jumped into The Last Quarry, then hopped all the way back to The First Quarry. I wound up reading all three within the span of a single month back in 2014. Now I just pick up whichever one I find next. What I liked about Quarry’s List is that it felt like the true beginning of the character. That isn’t surprising given the afterward included in the Hard Case Crime edition of this novel. Quarry was written as a one-shot novel, not a series. So it makes sense this second book is the one that lays the groundwork for all the subsequent Quarry novels. Granted, Quarry’s logic feels a little shallow, but you still can’t beat the premise it provides for Quarry hunting other hitmen.
I was surprised to find out Max Allan Collins thinks the third Quarry novel, Quarry’s Deal, is the best of the first five novels. I felt like it was actually a notch below all the other Quarry novels I’ve read, especially Quarry’s List. The resolution just fell flat for me. While the person behind the contract killing makes sense in a Chekhov’s gun way (a la Law & Order), it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as other Quarry novels. And the targeted killer’s ending is left ambiguous. So the whole pay-off for this novel is left wanting. Still, the whole world feels lived in with a fine noir vibe. And it still gripped me more than King’s Billy Summers (I’ll stop ranting about that disappointing novel now).
Late in 2020, an anticipated but unnecessary sequel was published. Ernest Cline’s Ready Player One was a fun romp through nostalgia from the 1970s, 1980s, and 1990s. It was somewhat gratuitous in its geeky references but that was part of the charm. The somewhat generic hero’s journey storyline served the novel well by following the template of so many of its references (Star Wars being the most notable example). Everything was summed up nicely and it felt like a fine novel to stand on its own. Then Cline went and wrote Ready Player Two. The biggest problem with this sequel is how focused it is on its references. While the first novel was a smorgasbord that had a little something for everyone, you better really like Prince, John Hughes, and J.R.R. Tolkien to enjoy the bulk of Ready Player Two. That’s only if you can get past the first third of the book, which is nothing but an expositional information dump with some attempts at social commentary. This whole book was a slog to get through and had none of the charm found in Ready Player One.
I was so disappointed with Ernest Cline’s third novel that I decided to follow it up by listening to his second novel, Armada. Because I’m a masochist, I guess? No, the real reason was the audio narration by Wil Wheaton. I was never a fan of Star Trek so I didn’t actually watch Wheaton on The Next Generation, which means I only really know him in his latter day persona as the patron saint of geeks.
Wil Wheaton knocks the narration out of the park. His character voices are well done, uniquely identify each character, and are based on an obvious character trait. His references are astounding, such as his Yoda imitation or lusty exclamation of “LEROY JENKINS!” He really delivers and shows off his acting chops. It was a pleasure to listen to this book. I have to say, though, without Wheaton’s fantastic narration I might not have bothered to finish this one. It’s not much of a spoiler to say Armada is largely based on Orson Scott Card’s classic novel Ender’s Game. That makes the twist not really a twist. And while the sheer number of pop culture references is trimmed way down from Cline’s other novels, Armada remains mostly a pastiche of the movies it does reference.
Cline’s books might have let me down but I did read one fantastic science fiction novel in 2021. Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir continues the writer’s winning streak. This one ran the risk of being too close to Weir’s original debut hit, The Martian. I can’t say much more about the plot without spoiling all of its great surprises. It definitely kept me entertained and turning the pages until the very end. The cast strikes a good balance between the solitary The Martian and the huge Ocean’s 11 cast of Artemis. The slow reveal through flashbacks is nicely done (and reminded me just a bit of my favorite book from 2020, Piranesi) even if the reader reaches some of the conclusions well before Grace does. There’s more than enough science to satisfy science geeks. There’s enough characters and thrills to satisfy everyone. It’s already been optioned for a film adaptation, which I can’t wait to see.
New Favorites
In 2017 I loved Christina Henry’s Lost Boy. In 2019, I discovered Blake Crouch and Jeff Lemire. In 2020, I raved about Susanna Clarke’s Piranesi. What new favorite did I embrace in 2021?
T.J. Klune writes the perfect novels for this time. The House in the Cerulean Sea and Under the Whispering Door both feel like warm hugs in a sea of turbulence. Klune writes queer fiction the way queer fiction should be written. Too many books are like Upright Women Wanted and focus entirely on the queer aspect, shoving it in the reader’s face. Klune’s novels treat queer romance as a totally nature phenomenon. The wonderful part is that the stories aren’t just about the journey of self discovery or just coming to terms with one man’s attraction to another man. Each main character realizes he doesn’t have to accept his life as it was. They learn to accept that one shouldn’t be objective in interactions with other people. Each figures out how to live in his own skin. It’s not a fatalistic acceptance, it’s a comforting story of found family. The lack of physical confrontations also made the books nice reads in a year that remained contentious.
As Seanan McGuire’s blurb for The House in the Cerulean Sea sums it up, Klune’s novels are “sweet, comforting, and kind.” The mix of supernatural elements is mixed just right with the sweet romances to provide a couple uniquely entertaining reads.
If you read only one of these books, read The House in the Cerulean Sea. It was easily my favorite prose fiction of 2021.
In Conclusion
I was disappointed to fall short of my goal to read 50 books in 2021. That number was the lowest bar I had set in four years and the third lowest over nine years of using Goodreads. In the end, I am content that I read what interested me even if it didn’t all meet my expectations.
One of the biggest reasons I read fewer books was because I simply read less. That’s obviously tautological, but there’s a fairly obvious reason why I read less. I rekindled my love for video games by playing a ton of Nintendo Switch games. Too many nights in 2021 I stayed up late playing some game (usually The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, the best video game ever made, I will fight you). I always had the intention of shutting off the game in time to read before going to sleep, but all too often I didn’t meet that intention. I still had lots of fun and don’t regret the time I spent playing so many games, but I do acknowledge I did lower the priority of reading to accomplish that.
The biggest revelation of 2021 was T.J. Klune. The House in the Cerulean Sea made me an immediate fan and will stick with me for years to come. It’s probably the standard up to which I will hold all modern romances. It’s deft handling and normalization of queer romance also highlights how a good LGBT+ book can work.
How Children Learn and Free to Learn were not revelations but elucidated a philosophy of education that finally spoke to my soul. While it might be optimistic to think our contemporary education system can be overhauled overnight, the change has to start sometime. Fifty years after How Children Learn came out seems like long enough.
One trend I hope to continue in 2022 is listening to audio books. I love listening to podcasts, but the topics they cover are often ephemeral and the episodes are meant to be somewhat disposable. A good audio book takes the deep dive of the physical book and imbues the material with emotion and nuance impossible to achieve on the written page. Wil Wheaton, Matthew McCaughney, and Brene Brown each elevated their respective book far beyond the dead tree version would have.
Another goal for the new year is to continue with book clubs. Reading a book in isolation is fine but reading with a group forces a different level of focus and participation. I have to pay more attention to the book so I can be sure to arrive prepared to talk about it. Even if I don’t talk much in the meetings, simply listening to other people helps formulate my own opinions and thoughts. Sharing some of those discussions via the Rampant Discourse podcast’s book club is even better. I would love to expand on that in the future, maybe even involving the audience somehow.
So that was 2021. Here’s to a new set of books and literary adventures in 2022!
And Now the Reading Challenge Lists!
And here’s my complete list of books I read in 2021, in the order I read them. I think listing them in reading order lets you see the ebb and flow of my reading interests as the year progressed. You can see an infographic for my reading challenge results on Goodreads.
- Manifest Destiny, Vol. 1 by Chris Dingess
- Manifest Destiny, Vol. 2 by Chris Dingess
- Braving the Wilderness by Brené Brown
- Ready Player Two by Ernest Cline
- Daring Greatly by Brené Brown
- Tristan Strong Punches a Hole in the Sky by Kwame Mbalia
- How Children Learn by John C. Holt
- The Magic Order, Volume 1 by Mark Millar
- The Complete Peanuts, Vol. 6 by Charles M. Schulz
- Armada by Ernest Cline
- The Queen’s Gambit by Walter Tevis
- From Hell by Alan Moore
- An Absolutely Remarkable Thing by Hank Green
- Dracula, Motherf**ker! by Alex de Campi
- Free to Learn by Peter O. Gray
- Greenlights by Matthew McConaughey
- Stamped by Jason Reynolds
- The House in the Cerulean Sea by T.J. Klune
- Nailbiter, Vol. 1 by Joshua Williamson
- Nailbiter, Vol. 2 by Joshua Williamson
- The Complete Peanuts, Vol. 10 by Charles M. Schulz
- The Way of the Househusband, Vol. 1 by Kousuke Oono
- The Way of the Househusband, Vol. 2 by Kousuke Oono
- The Way of the Househusband, Vol. 3 by Kousuke Oono
- Broken by Jenny Lawson
- Lexicon by Max Barry
- Batman: Damned by Brian Azzarello
- Hellblazer: Rise and Fall by Tom Taylor
- The Science of Hitting by Ted Williams
- The Complete Peanuts, Vol. 11 by Charles M. Schulz
- Abbott by Saladin Ahmed
- Batman: Last Knight on Earth by Scott Snyder
- Death And Taxes by Art McPherson
- The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse by Charlie Mackesy
- Quarry’s List by Max Allan Collins
- The Complete Maus by Art Spiegelman
- Quarry’s Deal by Max Allan Collins
- Ask Iwata by Satoru Iwata
- Fear by Thich Nhat Hanh
- The Physics of Pitching by Len Solesky
- Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir
- Off Speed by Terry McDermott
- This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar
- The New Retirement Savings Time Bomb by Ed Slott
- Home Sick Pilots, Vol. 1 by Dan Watters
- Under the Whispering Door by T.J. Klune
- The 5 Love Languages for Men by Gary Chapman
- Software Craftsmanship by Pete McBreen
- Billy Summers by Stephen King
Previous reading challenges:
- Reading Challenge Results for 2016
- Reading Challenge Results for 2017
- Reading Challenge Results for 2019
- Reading Challenge Results for 2020
