2024 books: Something new, something old

Readers never get tired of talking about books and bookish topics—it's one of the reasons I love them. This year, I noticed that one topic in particular kept coming up among the readers I know or follow online: old books vs. new books. 

Some of these readers revere the old stuff, whether they're the classics or childhood favorites. If a book is still being read decades after it was published, then it should pass the "this is worth my time" test.

Other readers are always chasing the new shiny thing: the current best-sellers, the latest award winners, the books everybody is talking about. These books may enjoy some time in the spotlight, but, given how many books are published each year, will most likely be forgotten about in a few years.

I'm more of a new-release book gal. New fiction is a fascinating way to gauge the mood of our society in the moment. New fiction, even if it's set in the past or on another planet, reflects what we value and believe in today (or, at least a few years ago when the book was written) and is a fascinating way to document and explore history.

I also have a bit of a chip on my shoulder about the so-called classics. I'm a recovering English major who read many of the "greats" for homework—and hated a good number of them. I'm convinced that many of the classics have only stood the test of time because teachers weren't willing to break free from the status quo and teach something other than what they were taught in school. And so we continue to have people claim that Moby-Dick is the great American novel when there are hundreds of newer books much more worthy of the title. (Full disclosure: I have never read Moby-Dick, nor have I ever met anyone who said it was worth their time.)

That being said, I did get a little burned out on all the forgettable new releases I read last year, so this year I made an effort to mix the old with the new. And you know what? It made my reading year better.

Reading trends

I tracked my reading on StoryGraph this year because they have cooler and prettier stats than my other tracking systems. (I'm too embarrassed to tell you how many places I track my reading, so you're just going to have to wonder.) One of my favorite stats was book moods:

It's ironic that StoryGraph says only a sliver of my reading was relaxing, when "to relax" is the number one reason I read.

StoryGraph also lets you rate your books with quarter stars! Because sometimes you just need to rate something 3.75 stars.

One thing I didn't like about StoryGraph was that it didn't let me assign genres myself, but still, the genre breakdown is pretty accurate, with my top five being literary fiction, historical fiction, romance, fantasy, and contemporary fiction.

I reread Brandon Sanderson's Stormlight Archive this year to prep for book 5, which skewed my books-per-month chart a bit. I loved revisiting Roshar and was glad I refreshed my memory on some key plot points before diving into Wind and Truth, but it came at a cost. Because the books are ridiculously long, I had to sacrifice a lot of my fall and holiday reading—my two favorite reading seasons—for Brandon Sanderson, and I did resent Brandon for it at times. (Even though I was sacrificing something I loved for something I loved. You get it.)

I started my Stormlight reread in August. I read 3-4 normal-sized books between each Stormlight book to keep my reading fresh. It was a good system.

Recurring themes

Most of the time I pick books based on my mood, not the topic. So it's always fun to see which themes and trends emerge over the course of a year, because they're usually unplanned. Here's what kept popping up in my reading this year:

• Artists and art collectors. I don't really care about the art world, but the publishing world sure seems to. SO MANY artist type people showed up in my reading in 2024 and it's looking like that will continue into 2025. 
• Absurdly rich people. I get it, we're all fascinated by how the wealthy live. But each "encounter" with a mega-rich character had me more convinced that billionaires should not exist.
• Weddings that last a week. See "absurdly rich people" above. 
• Magical doors. This is something I'm always in the mood for.
• Fake dating. This used to be my favorite romance trope, but I'm pretty sick of it now.
• Copyeditors—we're not as boring as you might think!
• People going for really long walks. Which also isn't as boring as you might think. Sometimes it's even life-threatening! (More on that below.)

Other book stats

Books read: 85

Pages read: 38,547 (453 pages per book). Book length definitely skewed long this year.

Books abandoned: 11. StoryGraph had some interesting insights on the book flavors I tend to abandon.

This doesn't 100% explain why I DNF books (there's no option here for bad writing, for example), but a lot of the categories from my other book moods chart are flipped, which is interesting.

Rereads: 9

Fiction vs. nonfiction 

This year was a little more fiction-heavy than normal, but most of the nonfiction I read was excellent.

Male vs. female authors 

Longest book: Wind and Truth, by Brandon Sanderson, 1,330 pages. Stormlight was responsible for about 15% of my page count this year. In fact, I think Wind and Truth might be the longest book I've ever read. I've read some 1,500-pagers, but they were all trade paperbacks. Wind and Truth was a full-sized hardcover with tiny margins, so the word count should be higher. The internet has been exceedingly unhelpful in verifying this for me, so I'm just going to call it.

Shortest book: Prophets See Around Corners, by Sheri Dew, 112 pages. If you only read one church book in 2025, this would be a good one to consider.

Favorite books from 2024

Best fiction: The Frozen River, by Ariel Lawhon. This is historical fiction at its best. Set during a time that hasn't been exhaustively covered (America, 1789–1790) about a real person but not a well-known one (Martha Ballard), this book doesn't just bring the past to life—it transports you directly to it. Everything from the family dynamics to the midwifery to the legal system is fascinating to watch unfold. This was my most satisfying reading experience of 2024. 

Best nonfiction: A Walk in the Park, by Kevin Fedarko. This book falls under the one of my favorite genres: "miserable adventures I would never go on." The adventure? Walking the entire length of the Grand Canyon, a 750-mile trek shockingly few people have finished. I'm glad a good writer took on this quest so I could learn more about a truly weird place without risking life and limb to do it. 

Best reread: The Way of Kings, by Brandon Sanderson. Bridge Four is just special, you guys. There's nothing else like it.

Other standouts from 2024

I'm straying from tradition this year and not putting the rest of my favorites into fun categories. I always leave out a few fantastic books when I do that, so I'm going the boring but efficient route this time.

The Diary of a Young Girl, by Anne Frank (nf). Believe it or not, this was my first time reading this book. I read the play version in 9th grade, but all I remember was the debate over how to pronounce Margot's name and my English teacher (who was also the drama teacher) urging me to read my lines with more feeling. Still, despite basically knowing the story already, reading Anne's own words for the first time really struck me. Such a remarkable, yet ordinary, person. So much potential, lost forever. Times that by 11 million and the Holocaust was, and continues to be, a staggering, incalculable loss for the world. 

One Summer: America, 1927, by Bill Bryson (nf). I've never had a burning desire to know what was going on in America in 1927, but in Bill Bryson I trust. Turns out, this was a pretty crazy summer. Not only did I learn a lot about baseball, flight, and the murder trial that gripped the nation in 1927, I saw a lot of parallels between the 1920s and the 2020s and have been wanting to learn more about the period between the two world wars ever since. 

The Book of Doors, by Gareth Brown (f). I'll read just about any book about magic doors, but this one really felt like it pulled some of my own portal fantasies out of my head and used them as inspiration. The magic books in this world are just cool, and the story was fun and interesting from start to finish.

Daddy-Long-Legs, by Jean Webster (f). My friend Jamie introduced this book to me (thanks, Jamie!), and after I read it we saw the musical together, which was equally lovely. It's such a charming, funny, and smart book, and it centers on one of my favorite themes: how education can change a girl's life and open up a world of possibilities. It made me want to give more old books a chance, too.

Romey: A Reckoning, by McKay Coppins (nf). One of the best biographies I've ever read (and I'm not just saying that because I'm a Romney fan). It gave me a lot to think about regarding the state of America—its leaders, its constituents, and its future. Still thinking about these things, in fact.

Challenger, by Adam Higginbotham (nf). I've always thought that space travel is one of the coolest things humans have ever accomplished, but after reading this I felt complicit. Space travel is insanely expensive and insanely risky and I'm no longer sure it's worth pursuing. Regardless of where you fall on the space-travel debate, this is a well-researched, well-told history of the doomed Challenger expedition and space flight in general.

The Spellshop, by Sarah Beth Durst (f). Sometimes you just need a cozy escape. This book checked all the right boxes for me.

The Women, by Kristin Hannah (f). I haven't loved Kristin Hannah's latest releases because I've grown tired of her emotional manipulations. IMO, she's ruined some perfectly good books (The Great Alone and The Four Winds come to mind) by ramping up the drama at the end for no reason other than to collect her readers' tears. The Women is definitely a tear-jerker, but I felt like all the melodrama was earned this time. This book helped me understand a little better that there is more than one way veterans sacrifice their lives for our country, and I've never been more grateful for their service.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, by Betty Smith (f). Another book about the power of education. This is a book I've held off rereading because I was afraid my fond memories wouldn't hold up, but that fear was unfounded (even though I didn't love certain things about the ending this time around).

The Stormlight Archive, by Brandon Sanderson (f). After the reading year I had, I can't not mention the Stormlight Archive here, my favorite Sanderson series. I'm well aware of Sanderson's faults as a writer and am not immune to being driven crazy by certain Sandersonisms, but what he does well he does better than anyone else. This series showcases some of his best work, and I'm glad he waited until he was a more experienced author to tell these stories the way they deserved to be told. (Fun fact: Brandon Sanderson married one of my neighbors, and when we got their wedding invitation in the mail, my dad said, "Emily is marrying a writer, so they're going to be poor.") I finished each book feeling like I had just run a marathon, but fortunately I find the idea of a reading marathon exponentially more enjoyable than a running one.

All the books I read in 2024

Bolded = rated 4.5 or 5 stars

DNF = did not finish

* = reread

1. Defiant, Brandon Sanderson
2. The Echo of Old Books, Barbara Davis
3. Ruthless Vows, Rebecca Ross
4. The Frozen River, Ariel Lawhon
5. Wellness, Nathan Hill
6. Hello Stranger, Katherine Center
7. The Diary of a Young Girl, Anne Frank
8. The Latecomer, Jean Hanff Korelitz
9. *The Calvin and Hobbes Tenth Anniversary Book, Bill Watterson
10. Immortal Longings, Chloe Gong (DNF)
11. Heart of the Matter, Russel M. Nelson
12. Project Hail Mary, Andy Weir
13. Romantic Comedy, Curtis Sittenfeld
14. The Keeper of Happy Endings, Barbara Davis
15. The Fox Wife, Yangsze Choo (DNF)
16. Dune, Frank Herbert
17. Family Family, Laurie Frankel
18. One Summer: America, 1927, Bill Bryson
19. With This Pledge, Tamara Alexander
20. Colors of Truth, Tamara Alexander
21. The Book of Doors, Gareth Brown
22. Monsters: A Fan's Dilemma
23. Proven Guilty, Jim Butcher
24. White Knight, Jim Butcher
25. The Phoenix Crown, Kate Quinn & Janie Chang
26. Mercury, Amy Jo Burns
27. The Book of Love, Kelly Link (DNF)
28. Mislaid in Parts Half-Known, Seanan McGuire
29. Expiration Dates, Rebecca Serle
30. The First Ladies, Marie Benedict & Victoria Christopher Murray
31. Daddy-Long-Legs, Jean Webster
32. Romney: A Reckoning, McKay Coppins
33. The Familiar, Leah Bardugo
34. *Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte
35. Yours Truly, Abby Jimenez
36. The Patron Saint of Liars, Ann Patchett
37. Welcome to the Hyunam-Dong Bookshop, Hwang Bo-Reum
38. A Short Walk Through a Wide World, Douglas Westerbeke
39. The Ministry of Time, Kaliane Bradley
40. *Mandy, Julie Andrews-Edwards
41. Funny Story, Emily Henry
42. Summerlost, Ally Condie
43. The Husbands, Holly Gramazio
44. Red Rising, Pierce Brown (DNF)
45. Vengeance is Mine, Barbara Jones Brown & Richard E. Turley
46. Pillars of the Earth, Ken Follett
47. The Vaster Wilds, Lauren Groff (DNF)
48. The Bullet Swallower, Elizabeth Gonzalez James (DNF)
49. A Walk in the Park, Kevin Fedarko
    
50. Piglet, Lottie Hazell
51. The Lion Women of Tehran, Marjan Kamali
52. The Way Life Should Be, Christina Baker Kline
53. Walking: One Step at a Time, Erling Kagge (DNF)
54. Dragonfruit, Makiia Lucier
55. The Paradise Problem, Christina Lauren
56. The Leftover Woman, Jean Kwok
57. For Times of Trouble, Jeffrey R. Holland
58. The Wager, David Grann (DNF)
59. Same as It Ever Was, Claire Lombardo 
60. A Wizard of Earthsea, Ursula K. Le Guin
61. Lies and Weddings, Kevin Kwan
62. Challenger, Adam Higginbotham
63. You Are Here, David Nicholls
64. Team of Rivals, Doris Kearns Goodwin
65. The Blind Assassin, Margaret Atwood
66. Kismet, Amina Akhtar
67. The God of the Woods, Liz Moore
68. The Spellshop, Sarah Beth Durst
69. The Bright Sword, Lev Grossman
70. Five-Star Stranger, Kat Tang
71. Crime and Punishment, Fyodor Dostoevsky (DNF)
72. *The Way of Kings, Brandon Sanderson
73. The Wedding People, Alison Espach
74. The Demon of Unrest, Erik Larson
75. The Women, Kristin Hannah
76. The Paris Novel, Ruth Reichl
77. *A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Betty Smith
78. Prophets See Around Corners, Sheri Dew
79. The Editor, Sara B. Franklin
80. *Words of Radiance, Brandon Sanderson
81. Tell Me a Riddle, Requa I, and Other Stories, Tillie Olsen (DNF)
82. *Warbreaker, Brandon Sanderson
83. Home Cooking, Laurie Colwin
84. Dark Waters, Katherine Arden
85. Empty Smiles, Katherine Arden
86. The Unmaking of June Farrow, Adrienne Young
87. The Haunting of Hill House, Shirley Jackson
88. River of the Gods, Candice Millard (DNF)
89. *Oathbringer, Brandon Sanderson
90. Believing Christ, Stephen E. Robinson
91. I Was Anastasia, Ariel Lawhon
92. Go As a River, Shelley Read
93. *Rhythm of War, Brandon Sanderson
94. A Winter Wish, Emily Stone
95. The Romanov Sisters, Helen Rappaport
96. Wind and Truth, Brandon Sanderson

Previous book recaps

2023
2020
2019
2018
2017
2016
2015
2014
2013
2012

Faith is action

I have this recurring dream. It's the first day of school, and I don't know what my classes are, where they are, or when they start. I don't know if I have homework or reading to do or who my teachers are. All I know is that I can't go to any of my classes until I know where I'm supposed to be, so I spend most of the dream frantically racing against the clock as I try to track down my schedule.

If I'm in high school, I'm looking for it in the junk mail stack at home, because in the early 2000s you had to wait to get your schedule in the mail and then call your friends to see if any of your classes matched up. When that doesn't work, I have to execute my worst-case scenario plan: go to the front office and ask them to print out a copy for me.

If I'm in college, I'm trying to remember my BYU login and how to navigate millions of drop-down menus to find the precious page that will be my blueprint for the semester.

I haven't quite figured the lucid dreaming thing out, but I've had this dream often enough that I can sense the importance of preserving the information I seek so I won't be caught unprepared the next time. If I manage to get my hands on my schedule, I'll store it in a secret compartment in my backpack or the pocket of my jeans so that when the next first-day-of-school dream comes, I'll be ready. 

Except my plans never quite work out. Sure, the schedule I saved carries over to my next dream, but the writing is smudged or my jeans have gone through the wash so the paper is mush or the wind snatches that scrap of paper out of my hand. No matter what I do, the one thing I can count on is that I will be stuck, unable to move forward until I know where I'm going, while everyone around me is walking from class to class with purpose and confidence.

It wasn't hard to figure out why my brain keeps replaying this dream. I want to have a destination before I start moving. I don't want to waste time or risk failure or rejection by charging recklessly ahead. So in life, as in my dreams, I often find myself treading water, making no progress because I don't know which direction to go. I focus on the answers I seek, when what I probably should be doing is taking a leaf out of Fred Weasley's book: making up the plan as I go along (his favorite kind of plan, as he tells us in book 7). In other words, take a leap of faith.

In his October 2024 General Conference talk, Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf taught:  

"We should not expect to understand everything before we act. That is not faith. As Alma taught, 'Faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things.' If we wait to act until all our questions are answered, we severely limit the good we can accomplish, and we limit the power of our faith."

Our society celebrates those who take action. Who visualize exactly what they want and then make it happen. I'm all about taking matters into your own hands and not waiting to be acted upon, but I'm finding that I'm often able to go further and accomplish more when I let myself be guided for a while. No vision board, no goals, no end game in mind—just the surety that none of my logical, thought-out plans have worked out and a hope that God will first untangle the knot I've gotten myself into and then send me the help I need to get going again. All I have to do is take the next step. In the dark. Possibly off a cliff.

It goes against my nature to relinquish control, but usually the first thing that happens when I surrender to God is that the awful feeling of stuckness goes away. I may still not know where I'm going, but I finally feel like I'm moving somewhere, toward something that matters, even though I don't have the steps mapped out for me. Somehow, the answers come as I go along, but only if I keep walking with faith.

I still get caught unprepared on the first day of school in my dreams from time to time, just like I freeze in real life when I don't know what my next step is. But walking into darkness is less panic inducing than it used to be. Yes, I still think things through and plan ahead as much as possible, but I'm learning that moving forward without answers doesn't have to be my last resort. It can in fact be the only way forward, and often leads to better outcomes.

The Lord lays out the promise of faith in action in Alma 32:43: 

"Then, my brethren, ye shall reap the rewards of your faith, and your diligence, and patience, and long-suffering, waiting for the tree to bring forth fruit unto you."

Faith isn't the easy part of the process, but in the end it's what makes it all work.

5 things I learned at BYU Education Week

I attended BYU Education Week for the first time last year and loved it so much I decided to attend every year for the rest of my life, provided I had the availability, ability, and vacation time to do so. People seem to think it's weird that I take a whole week off work to go to school, but it makes perfect sense to me. If I could pay the bills by being a professional student, I would do it. It would be a far more fulfilling career path than any I've stumbled into so far, that's for sure.

This shirt spoke to me.

My enthusiasm for Education Week stems partly from my love for BYU campus. It's one of my favorite places to be and always feels like home, even if it's been years since my last visit. On a deeper level, Education Week also (somewhat) quenches my insatiable desire to learn. This week feels like drinking from a fire hose of spirituality and intellectualism, and it's exhilarating, exhausting, and invigorating—and worth every one of those vacation days. 

I'm wearing the same backpack I used through all four years of college. It's carried a LOT of weight over the years and is still in one piece!

My journal entries of Education Week are always bursting with rambling insights, but I wanted to capture the main themes here in a more "official" format.

Truth can be found just about anywhere

One of the best lectures I attended was the "holy envy" series. Holy envy essentially means finding the good in other faiths and beliefs. This is one of the main reasons I love to read and learn so much—I love finding gospel truths in secular places. During this class we looked at the writings and teachings of non-LDS writers, leaders, saints, and more and compared them to Latter-day Saint scripture and teachings. We have more in common across cultural and political and religious divides than we think. Sure, we don't agree on everything, but truth is out there for anyone to find, no matter their background. 

The ultimate goal of covenants is to bring you closer to Christ

Covenants have been in the spotlight a lot recently, which carried over into Education Week. My understanding of and appreciation for temple covenants has deepened quite a bit this year, and some of the classes I took this week added more to what I've been learning. Temple covenants are more than a list of standards required to maintain a temple recommend. The main purpose of temple covenants is to draw us closer to Christ, and that is one of the most important relationships any of us can have. Keeping covenants requires sacrifice, just like any other relationship worth keeping, but those sacrifices set us up for continual joy and progression, which is what keeps us close to Christ, too.

When you're wandering in a wilderness, the worst thing you can do is give up

We see a lot of wandering communities in the scriptures. The Israelites wandered in the wilderness for 40 years. Lehi's family left a life of comfort to wander through many wildernesses. The early Saints moved from place to years for decades before settling in Utah. While I've never had to leave my home and way of life to live in a tent for months or years, I do know what it feels like to wander aimlessly through life, wondering what the point of it all is. When you're stuck and feel like you're getting nowhere, it's tempting to just throw your hands up in the air and stop trying. The scriptures show us again and again that God is able to lead his people to more fertile places—eventually. But if you're set on camping out in your troubles forever because you're tired of trying, he can't lead you to something better. The only way through a trial is through it, and nobody knows better than God how to get you through it.

Creativity can change your life

Creating things is part of our nature as human beings, but it's hard to be creative in a world that demands conformity and where bills must be paid. But taking the time to create—even if you're not the best at sewing or painting or writing or baking—not only has the power to make your life better, it can also change your perspective on things and bring more joy into your life. I've struggled to prioritize creative pursuits when the realities of life must be answered to first (the dearth of posts on this blog is just one of many examples), but I'm feeling some hope now that there are actually solutions to be found that will allow me to live a more meaningful and useful life AND pay the bills. Cool things happen when you let yourself think outside the box and try new things.

Christopher Columbus wasn't the villain we make him out to be

It's very "in" these days to villainize Christopher Columbus and the American founders. In the case of Christopher Columbus, he's taken all the blame for the atrocities that happened in the Americas, both during his lifetime and for hundreds of years afterward. But primary sources—writings by Columbus himself and by those who knew him—tell a different story. I'm not saying that atrocities like slavery and sex trafficking didn't happen, just that there's no real evidence that Columbus was the perpetrator of them; oftentimes he wasn't even present when they happened. Obviously Columbus wasn't perfect, and his actions did have unintended consequences. But it's unreasonable and unfair to judge those from the past based on what we know now. I hate to think what people will be saying about us in a few hundred years.

Bonus thing: BYU Creamery ice cream is delicious

I missed out on a lot of quintessential BYU things while I was a student: hiking the Y, going to games and concerts, partaking of various culinary delights, dating. I like to blame it on being a poor, working student who had no free time or money—and that was certainly a huge part of it—but my shyness held me back from living the full college experience, too. I've made up for it somewhat in the years since graduation, though. This week I went to the Creamery on 9th twice, an iconic spot I've only been to a few times in my life, and was kind of astonished how good the ice cream was. I usually prefer my desserts to be in cake or cookie form, but if BYU Creamery ice cream was an option I might pass up my old favorites and spring for the ice cream. (The BYU brownies—WITHOUT mint—will always win the day, though.) For a church that's known for its "health code," aka, the Word of Wisdom, we sure know how to put the unhealthy in the foods we love.

Plain and precious truths

 *I gave a talk at church today and a few people have asked for a copy of it. I decided to post it here, minus the lame intro and nervous jokes.*

I spend a lot of time with the written word, both when I’m being paid to do it and on my own time. I’ve been a big reader for as long as I can remember, and anyone who has been to my house can attest to the fact that I have a bit of a book buying problem too . . . but that’s a problem I’m okay with having.

I read primarily for one of three reasons. First, is to escape. Whether my life is boring, difficult, or just complicated, it’s always a relief to escape into another world or to deal with someone else’s problems instead of mine. Second, reading is one of my favorite stress relievers and a very necessary part of my wind-down routine at night so I can be relaxed enough to sleep. And third is, of course, to learn. I love collecting little nuggets of wisdom and seeing the world—real or imagined—through others’ eyes.

I get especially excited when those bookish life lessons I find are also gospel truths. But the scriptures and words of latter-day prophets are the best source of plain and precious truths, so this year I’ve been trying to focus more on the lessons they have to teach me.

God is a god of miracles

One truth that has been on my mind a lot the last few years is that our Father in Heaven is a god of miracles.

In the April 2022 General Conference, President Nelson said:

Moroni assured us that “God has not ceased to be a God of miracles.” Every book of scripture demonstrates how willing the Lord is to intervene in the lives of those who believe in Him. He parted the Red Sea for Moses, helped Nephi retrieve the brass plates, and restored His Church through the Prophet Joseph Smith. Each of these miracles took time and may not have been exactly what those individuals originally requested from the Lord.

In the same way, the Lord will bless you with miracles if you believe in Him, “doubting nothing.” Do the spiritual work to seek miracles. Prayerfully ask God to help you exercise that kind of faith. I promise that you can experience for yourself that Jesus Christ “giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength.” Few things will accelerate your spiritual momentum more than realizing the Lord is helping you to move a mountain in your life.

It’s not hard for me to see miracles in other people’s lives, but I struggle to see them in my own. After Pres. Nelson gave this talk though, I decided to follow his counsel and seek and expect miracles from the Lord. I did this the only way I knew how—by praying for help. I prayed for the miracles I wanted, even though past experience had left me a little bitter on that point. I prayed for help seeing the miracles that were already there, too.

I’m not going to tell you that all my dreams suddenly started coming true. But I did start seeing tiny little miracles in my own life that I was blinded to before. I became a much happier, more grateful person. I grew in ways I wasn’t expecting, and in ways I wouldn’t have if I wasn’t focused on the Savior. And as I searched for, and found, these little miracles, my faith grew as well. One of the biggest blessings is the continual realization that I love the life I have, even though it wasn’t the one I planned for.

Not all miracles are obvious and life-changing, though. In fact, most of them aren’t. More often than not, it’s the quiet miracles that help us become who we are meant to become and get where we need to go. The better I understand this, the more I'm able to see that our Father in Heaven is eager to shower us with blessings and miracles. Pres. Nelson has also said that “God will do everything He can, short of violating your agency, to help you not miss out on the greatest blessings of all eternity.” A lot of times, all we need to do is simply pay better attention.

“Salvation is free”

When I was baptized at age 8, my grandma gave me my very first journal. I wrote about my baptism when I got home that day, and have kept a journal ever since. I am currently on journal number 34. (I did say I spend a lot of time with the written word.)

I’ve thought a lot about this gift over the years, and the gift giver as well. One of my grandma’s special talents was gift giving. For her, Christmas shopping wasn’t something she did only during the holidays. She spent all year shopping and making gifts for her grandkids. She was so on top of it that even though she passed away in February, many of my cousins got presents for Christmas that year that she had bought or worked on. She also gave gifts through service. Even though she had 9 kids of her own and not a lot of money, she opened her home to any kid in the neighborhood who needed a hot meal or love and safety, and was always quick to prepare a meal for a neighbor in need. And for the last 20 years of her life, she did this while battling cancer.

I say all this not to put my grandma on an impossible-to-reach pedestal, but to provide a little bit of context into why I still think about this gift, even decades later. My grandma had a lot of grandkids. A lot of people to take care of. A lot of her own problems. I don’t know where she found the energy to get to know her shy little granddaughter who sometimes spent more time in her garden eating all her cherry tomatoes than inside visiting with her. Somehow she saw past all of my louder, more entertaining relatives and the walls I put up around myself to understand that a journal would be the right gift to give me for my 8th birthday. 

Because of that gift, journaling became a huge part of my life. It’s how I work through my problems because, as I suspect my grandma realized, I’m not the kind of person to talk to people about my problems. Writing is how I make sense of the world and my place in it. It helps me remember my life and what I’ve learned. It’s alarming the number of times I’ve reread old entries where my past self was having a grand realization about life, while my current self was thinking, “I thought I learned that for the first time a few weeks ago.” Human beings, by nature, are forgetful. It’s why the word “remember” is repeated so many times in The Book of Mormon—if we don’t make a conscious effort to remember what we’ve learned, we could lose it completely.

The journal I got on my baptism day is a gift that keeps giving, both because it was profoundly personal and continues to bless my life today.

All of us have access to an even greater gift, one that is exactly what we need, more than we deserve, and always there to bless us. That gift, of course, is the atonement. Lehi teaches us in 2 Nephi 2:4 that “salvation is free.” He didn’t mean “free” in the modern sense of the word. We don’t have to qualify for it. There are no preexisting conditions or circumstances that disqualify us from it. And we won’t be bombarded with ads for the rest of our life because of it.

This gift is free because it was given out of love. All we have to do is accept it.

In this month’s issue of the Liahona, President Jeffrey R. Holland teaches us:

Jesus Christ has made it clear that all Heavenly Father’s children have equal claim on the blessings of His gospel and Atonement. He reminds us that all “are privileged the one like unto the other, and none are forbidden” (2 Nephi 26:28).

“He inviteth them all to come unto him and partake of his goodness; and he denieth none that come unto him, black and white, bond and free, male and female” (2 Nephi 26:33).

“He inviteth them all”—that means all of us! We should not place superficial labels and artificial distinctions on ourselves or others. We should never put up any barriers to the Savior’s love or entertain thoughts that we or others are beyond His reach. As I have said before, “It is not possible for [anyone] to sink lower than the infinite light of Christ’s Atonement shines.”

Instead, as Sister Holland and I taught just a few months before her passing, we are commanded to “have charity, which charity is love” (2 Nephi 26:30). This is the love the Savior shows us, for “He doeth not anything save it be for the benefit of the world; for he loveth the world, even that he layeth down his own life that he may draw all men unto him” (2 Nephi 26:24).

This, the atonement, is the most precious truth of the gospel. It is profoundly personal and will bless us through the eternities. Our Father in Heaven knew we would need it, and he prepared the way for us to have it through his son who was willing to sacrifice everything so that all could be made right for each one of us, no matter how trivial or beyond saving we feel.

The most plain and precious truths of the gospel are centered on love. I know that God loves each of us individually and is an expert at personalizing our miracles. I may not know exactly how the atonement works, but I do know it does work and that it is a gift that has already been given to everyone who has lived or will live on this earth, and that it will never expire.

The cost of convenience

It's a generally accepted fact that when presented with two options, humans will opt for the more convenient one most of the time. Entrepreneurs know this. Marketers exploit it. Teachers and students (not to mention parents and children) battle over it. 

It's why so many things get invented. We humans like the path of least resistance. 

As someone who hates wasting time/effort more than just about anything, I live on the path of least resistance. Anything that saves me a trip up the stairs, eliminates a meeting, combines two grocery store runs into one, or frees up time for leisure has high value in my life.

But I've noticed something the past few years. Our society expects convenience at a level it never has before. When we're constantly hustling from one thing to another, convenience becomes pretty important, but lately it feels like convenience is about more than just, well, convenience. It's about avoidance, too. Why endure a grueling commute to go to work when you can do the same work at home? Why make dinner when you can have someone bring it to your door? Why endure an awkward party or date when you can just message people from the comfort of your own home?

We've gotten used to modern conveniences making our lives easier. That's nothing new. It's what we've sacrificed for it—human connection—that has changed.

When the world started to open back up again after the pandemic, I recognized that I needed to put myself back out there—or else. It wasn't like it was when I was a teenager, when the worst thing that could happen to you was to be a social outcast. The stakes were much higher this time; it wasn't just my reputation that was on the line. After spending over a year at home alone, I was fighting for a smidgeon of a chance to live again, and that meant being out among the people.

It took some time. A lot of efforts went nowhere. There were—and still are—a lot of failures. But then, one day, I realized that I had more of a social life than I'd had since college. Even though having coworker friends was kind of off the table since I mostly worked remote, I had regular people in my life again outside family. I even valued random interactions with strangers more.

As much as I hate to give covid credit for anything good, my life is better today because of what I learned while spending a year at home. It forced me to prioritize relationships—of any kind—above comfort and convenience.

That being said, I still spend a good amount of time alone and I still opt for the convenient, less fulfilling option more times than I should. I'm also paying attention to what society as a whole is doing, and my observations have led me to believe that even though people have resumed normal life, most people spend less time socializing now than they did pre-covid. And it's not just because we're all busy working and raising families and catching up on all the TV shows. We've simply gotten used to our more efficient routines. Making plans and then following through with them feels like it requires more effort than it used to. 

Our American independence is partly to blame, too. A lot of us got used to relying on ourselves when we were cut off from the world during covid, and that, my virtual friends, is a very hard habit to break. After all, why do something with people when you can just do it yourself (and probably more efficiently, too)?

These shifts in how we've spent our time the last few years, and who we spent it with, weren't always super noticeable. That is, until you saw the uptick in headlines about the rise of anxiety, depression, and loneliness. Until you started seeing it in yourself and seemingly everyone around you.

There's always been plenty to be depressed and anxious about. This isn't a new reality for 2024. Strong relationships have always made these things easier—but prioritizing them is harder than it's ever been. 

But prioritize them we must. The comforts of convenience can only get you so far.

2023 books: A greedy indulgence

This year, I reached a new level of bookish nerdery. I've always had a disconnect between what I think I can read and what I'm actually able to read, but in 2023 I deluded myself into thinking that I could keep up with all the latest releases and catch up on some old titles. If you want something badly enough, you can make it happen, right?

As a result, my TBR (to be read) stack on my nightstand became an alarmingly high tower I fully expected to topple over one night while I was stress-dreaming about all the reading I hadn't gotten to yet. 

July 2023. This book tower looks pretty reasonable compared to what it looked like in early December.

I also enjoyed several library binges, where I stretched my holds max (50 books) almost to the limit and established myself as one of those special patrons who regularly enters the library with a giant bag over one shoulder.

I was too scared to make a tower out of my library books, so I divided them up by genre and lined them up against the wall instead.

I was greedy about books this year, but still emerged from 2023 with far more unread books than I wanted. Something that always baffled Deluded Angie when she returned stacks of unread books to the library and her TBR stack kept getting taller, not shorter.

I was disciplined enough to read a good chunk of the books I bought or checked out from the library, but would have needed to quit my job or acquire speed-reading superpowers to devour even half of what was taunting me just at my house.

One thing I wasn't delusional about, though, was how good the reading was this year. 2023 was an exceptionally great year for new releases, and I've gotten pretty good at choosing books that are a good match for me, too—a crucial skill for any voracious reader who can't afford to waste time on bad or disappointing books. 

Book stats

Goal: 80 books

Books read: 96. As much as it pains me to get so close to another 100-book year, I don't regret falling short. It means I had a life outside of the book world too, even if it doesn't look like it. 

Pages read: 36,744 (about 368 pages per book). Is it just me, or are books getting longer? Seems like the average book length used to be 200–300 pages.

Books abandoned: 13

Rereads: ZERO. Considering how hard I tried to read all the new releases this year, this shouldn't surprise me, but it really does. Rereading books has been a part of my reading identity my whole life—I've never once gone a whole year without rereading something. I have a hunch I'll be rereading a lot of books next year, so equilibrium will be restored.

This graph demonstrates why I always have trouble answering the "What kinds of books do you read?" question. I don't know how to get straight to the point without leaving out important genre preferences.

Ratings

I've gotten less stingy with my star ratings the last few years, and it's rare that I finish a book that earns less than 3 stars from me. The result is a happier reading life.

Fiction vs. nonfiction

I read nonfiction much slower than I do fiction, but both are constants in my reading life.

Male vs. female authors

I could almost use the same pie chart for fiction vs. nonfiction and male vs. female authors. Most of my nonfiction books were written by men, whereas most of my fiction books were written by women. 

Longest book: The Covenant of Water, by Abraham Verghese (724 pages).  

Shortest book: Long Chills and Case Dough, by Brandon Sanderson (67 pages). Hilarious, considering Sanderson often gets the "longest book" callout on these recaps.

Favorites

I almost didn't pick favorites this year because narrowing it down to just two books felt more impossible than usual. But after I finished compiling this post I realized that I hadn't talked about a few of my favorites yet, so I decided to feature them as my official favorites. But just know that they share this honor with at least 10 other books. 

Fiction: Hello Beautiful, by Ann Napolitano. This is a story about four sisters, which was all it took to pique my interest, coming from a family of four girls (and one boy) myself. While this book isn't exactly a retelling of Little Women, it is an homage of sorts, and the sisters reference the March sisters much like my sisters and I did. I found a lot to relate to in this book, and it checked all my literary boxes.

Nonfiction: Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life, by Barbara Kingsolver. I found this memoir about a family that only ate locally grown food for a year fascinating. Food, in general, is a topic that interests me to no end (this isn't the first time I've picked a food-centric book for my favorite nonfiction pick), but this one made me want to overhaul my life and center it on nutritious food. I wouldn't go so far as to grow all of my own food, but a career pivot to something in the nutrition realm did cross my mind.

Book pairings

One of my favorite things about reflecting on my reading year is seeing the random themes that emerge. This year a lot of the themes came in pairs, so I decided to highlight some of them in book pairings.

Pandemic novels

I didn't seek out pandemic books this year, but two of my favorite books ended up being set during 2020. Tom Lake, by Ann Patchett, is about a family with three adult daughters who move back home to wait out the pandemic and help out at their parents' cherry orchard. It was such a lovely, comforting book, and it made me wish I could have spent the spring of 2020 picking cherries with my mom and sisters while our mom told us stories about her life.

Happiness Falls, by Angie Kim, is also a family story set during early covid, but it is anything but cozy. Instead of reminiscing together, this family is focused on figuring out why their dad disappeared, an event that had only one witness: his son who can't speak. I don't usually go for true crime / murder mystery type books, but this one had me hooked. It had so many layers to it and I learned so much about so many things as I raced through it. 

Creepy guys stalking actors

I read a lot of books about actors this year, which definitely wasn't planned because I don't enjoy spending time with narcissists. Two of those actresses unfortunately had stalkers, as seen in The Eden Test by Adam Sternbergh and With My Little Eye by Joshilyn Jackson. I actually enjoyed The Eden Test, but With My Little Eye really creeped me out. Parts of it hit a little too close to home, I guess. I don't think I'll be picking up another book with a stalker any time soon.

Aquatic POV characters

I kid you not—this popped up more than once this year. First was in Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt, which is about an octopus who helps solve crimes. Well, one crime. Which is more of a family mystery than a crime. The premise sounds gimmicky, but it actually works in what feels like a realistic way. Really enjoyed this book.

The other book, Shark Heart by Emily Habeck, had an even weirder premise. In this world, people can get a strange disease kind of like Alzheimer's, but instead of slowly losing your memories and sense of self, you gradually transform into an animal. Lewis, a newlywed and drama teacher (again with the actors!), turns into a shark. It's a beautifully written love story, but was kind of an uncomfortable read. Seeing people turn into another species was a little bit too weird for me, even though, again, it was written in a way that felt very true to life.

Dinosaurs coming back TO life

I finally got around to reading Jurassic Park, and it was excellent. A zombified dinosaur makes an appearance in Jim Butcher's Dead Beat too, which was also very entertaining. Why are dinosaurs so much fun?

Opioids

One of my first nonfiction reads was Patrick Radden Keefe's Empire of Pain, which is about the Sackler family and the opioid crisis. A few months later I read Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver, thinking I was getting a reimagining of Charles Dickens' David Copperfield (which it technically is), and instead getting another devastating account of how OxyContin destroys lives. Both were troubling reads, but well worth the time. I still think about them both often.

Maine

When I have a trip coming up, I like to read a book about or set in that place shortly before I leave. This is partly the Hermione in me wanting to do my homework, but it also amps up my excitement for the trip. I love getting to know a place in the pages of a book and then geeking out over it shortly thereafter in real life.

So with a family trip to Maine in September, I knew I would be reading at least one book set there. But apparently Maine is a popular place to visit in the literary world too, because it kept showing up in the books I was reading. (No complaints here—Maine is pretty great.) Happy Place by Emily Henry was my favorite of the batch. I love Emily Henry, and this was my favorite novel of hers. Flying Solo by Linda Holmes mentioned Bar Harbor (where we stayed) a few times, which made me very excited, but was otherwise kind of a lame book.

Epic races

This one is a bit of a stretch, but I wanted to make sure I talked about both of these books. They're both about racing to a finish line, in a way, so I'll make it work. 

First is The Emerald Mile, by Kevin Fedarko, which chronicles the fastest trip down the Colorado River via boat, and wow it was a ride. The 1983 record was broken after this book came out, but it's still a thrilling read. Kind of surprised no one has turned it into a movie yet.

The epic race in The Wishing Game by Meg Shaffer is much more my style, though. Instead of risking life and limb to shatter a record racing through the Grand Canyon, the characters in this book are on a quest (in Maine!) to win the last book written by a famous author. It's basically Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, but with books. This was one of the biggest surprises of my reading year and is a great one if you need a little more hope in your life.

Year of Sanderson

I can't finish out this year without touching on the Year of Sanderson publishing experiment. I have no problem giving Brandon Sanderson more of my money, so I signed up for the subscription box on Kickstarer pretty much the moment I heard about it. The subscription included one box a month full of Sanderson goodies, including four secret novels Sanderson wrote during covid (plus a bonus short story from his college years). 

I was mainly there for the books, obviously, but it was the fun swag items that impressed me the most. Lots of high-quality stuff (my Sanderson collection now rivals my Harry Potter collection) and so many creative ideas. Every time I opened a box I imagined how much fun it would be to be on Sanderson's marketing team. Maybe some day.

As for the books, I felt like they weren't up to Sanderson's usual standard, but I really enjoyed two of them and all of them are beautiful to look at. Yumi and the Nightmare Painter was my favorite of the batch, in part because of this quote, which perfectly encapsulates why I don't enjoy endless sunny days, especially during the summer:

"There was a certain enervating effulgence of sunlight, sapping away strength, making him lethargic. Perhaps, Painter thought, that was what the sun subsisted on: burning as fuel the willpower of those who lived beneath it."

August 2023. The bookends I got in the Mistborn box prompted a full-on library reorganization, with Brandon's books taking the coveted spot at the top. The rest of my Sanderson paraphernalia is displayed on the little bookcase on the far left. 

All the books I read in 2023 

Bolded titles = books I rated 4.5 or 5 stars
DNF = did not finish

1. A Fire Endless, Rebecca Ross
2. The House of Spirits, Isabel Allende
3. Five Winters, Kitty Johnson
4. Keeper of Enchanted Rooms, Charlie N. Holmberg
5. 3rd, 4th Nephi: A Brief Theological Introduction, Daniel Beccera
6. We Are the Light, Matthew Quick
7. The Untold Story, Genevieve Cogman
8. Where the Drowned Girls Go, Seanan McGuire
9. The Guns of August, Barbara W. Tuchman
10. Lunar Love, Lauren Kung Jessen
11. Someone Else's Shoes, Jojo Moyes
12. River Sing Me Home, Eleanor Shearer
13. The Perishing, Natashia Deon (DNF)
14. Blood Rites, Jim Butcher
15. American Gods, Neil Gaiman (DNF)
16. Georgie, All Along, Kate Clayborn
17. The Priesthood Power of Women: In the Temple, Church, and Family, Barbara Morgan Gardner
18. The Invisible Woman, Erika Robuck
19. Empire of Pain: The Secret History of the Sackler Dynasty
20. A Court of Thorns and Roses, Sarah J. Maas
21. A Court of Mist and Fury, Sarah J. Maas
22. The Soulmate, Sally Hepworth
23. Tress of the Emerald Sea, Brandon Sanderson
24. The Nineties, Chuck Klosterman
25. Us Against You, Fredrik Backman
26. The Wilderwomen, Ruth Emmie Lang
27. A Court of Wings and Ruin, Sarah J. Maas
28. These Precious Days, Ann Patchett
29. Lessons in Chemistry, Bonnie Garmus
30. Mormon: A Brief Theological Introduction, Adam S. Miller
31. The Paris Apartment, Lucy Foley (DNF)
32. The Big Picture: The Fight for the Future of Movies, Ben Fritz
33. Sign Here, Claudia Lux
34. Demon Copperhead, Barbara Kingsolver
35. Love and Other Words, Christina Lauren
36. The Frugal Wizard's Handbook for Surviving Medieval England, Brandon Sanderson
37. Happily: A Personal History—with Fairy Tales
38. Travel as a Political Act, Rick Steves
39. The Once and Future King, T.H. White (DNF)
40. Jurassic Park, Michael Crichton
41. The Eden Test, Adam Sternbergh
42. Hooked: How Crafting Saved My Life, Sutton Foster (DNF)
43. The Bookshop on the Shore, Jenny Colgan (DNF)
44. Happy Place, Emily Henry
45. The Last Thing He Told Me, Laura Dave
46. Heartburn, Nora Ephron
47. The Emerald Mile: The Epic Story of the Fastest Ride Through the Heart of the Grand Canyon, Kevin Fedarko
48. Watch Us Shine, Marisa de los Santos
49. To Shape a Dragon's Breath, Moniquill Blackgoose (DNF)
50. Pandora, Susan Stokes-Chapman
51. Divine Rivals, Rebecca Ross
52. Wolf Hall, Hilary Mantel
53. The Making of Another Major Motion Picture, Tom Hanks (DNF)
54. Ether: A Brief Theological Introduction: Rosalynde Frandsen Welch
55. The Covenant of Water, Abraham Verghese
56. King: A Life, Jonathan Eig
57. Recipe for Persuasion, Sonali Dev
58. I Feel Bad About My Neck, and Other Thoughts on Being a Woman, Nora Ephron
59. Yumi and the Nightmare Painter, Brandon Sanderson
60. The Pioneers: The Heroic Story of Settlers Who Brought the American Ideal West, David McCullough (DNF)
61. With My Little Eye, Joshilyn Jackson
62. Lost in the Moment and Found, Seanan McGuire
63. Remarkably Bright Creatures, Shelby Van Pelt
64. Ink Blood Sister Scribe, Emma Torzs
65. Yellowface, R.F. Kuang
66. Same Time Next Summer, Annabel Monaghan (DNF)
67. Destiny of the Republic: A Tale of Madness, Medicine, and the Murder of a President, Candice Millard
68. The Wishing Game, Meg Shaffer
69. The Gifts, Liz Hyder
70. No Two Persons, Erica Bauermeister
71. Homecoming, Kate Morton
72. The Collected Regrets of Clover, Mikki Brammer
73. The Secret Book of Flora Lea, Patti Callahan Henry
74. Life in Five Senses: How Exploring the Senses Got Me Out of My Head and Into the World, Gretchen Rubin
75. Shark Heart, Emily Habeck
76. Tom Lake, Ann Patchett
77. The Northern Reach, W.S. Winslow (DNF)
78. Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life, Barbara Kingsolver
79. Apples Never Fall: Liane Moriarty
80. Flying Solo, Linda Holmes
81. The American Spirit: Who We Are and What We Stand For, David McCullough
82. Jayber Crow, Wendell Berry
83. Moroni: A Brief Theological Introduction, David F. Holland
84. Dead Beat, Jim Butcher
85. Scarlet, Genevieve Cogman
86. Starling House, Alix E. Harrow
87. A Mirror Mended, Alix E. Harrow
88. Dead Voices, Katherine Arden
89. The Unfortunate Side Effects of Heartbreak and Magic, Breanne Randall
90. Spells for Forgetting, Adrienne Young
91. The Sunlit Man, Brandon Sanderson
92. To the Lighthouse, Virginia Woolf (DNF)
93. The Lost Queen, Signe Pike
94. The Forgotten Kingdom, Signe Pike
95. 1493: Uncovering the New World Columbus Created, Charles C. Mann
96. Adult Assembly Required, Abbi Waxman
97. Hello Beautiful, Ann Napolitano
98. The Mysteries, Bill Watterson
99. Love, Holly, Emily Stone
100. Original Grace: An Experiment in Restoration Thinking, Adam S. Miller
101. The Last Russian Doll, Kristen Loesch
102. The Christmas Bookshop, Jenny Colgan
103. Long Chills and Case Dough, Brandon Sanderson
104. Happiness Falls, Angie Kim
105. A Winter in New York
106. Mr. Dickens and His Carol, Samantha Silva
107. Cytonic, Brandon Sanderson
108. Burning Questions, Margaret Atwood
109. Elon Musk, Walter Isaacson (DNF)

Previous book recaps

2020
2019
2018
2017
2016
2015
2014
2013
2012