
There are still a few more weeks left of the year, and a few more books on my nightstand, but as of this post I read 55 books in the year of our Lord, 2023. This pace was largely made possible by the overarching reading theme of the year, which was decisively “graphic novels for cool queer teens.” But hey, if I can heal my inner child and get GoodReads cred at the same time, I’m gonna do it.
It was tough to whittle down what I read this year to a few favorites (I mean, I wanted to do a Top 5 list for a nice round number, and couldn’t even bring myself to do that) but I did my best. Here are the books that will stay with me long after 2023 has drawn to a close:
In Memoriam by Alice Winn
In Memoriam is most straightforwardly described as a gay love story set against the backdrop of World War I. Yet, that tagline seems an almost unfair reduction of the ways in which this story subverts expectations about the “war novel” and the “queer historical romance.” You will recoil in disgust at the visceral depictions of life in the trenches, you will grin at the warmth of friendship, and you will sob violently at the complex beauty of the love between the two main characters.
Palestine by Joe Sacco
With a genocide unfolding before our eyes in Palestine, taking the time to educate oneself is critical in the fight for liberation. While there are many excellent books on the history of Palestine and its occupation, none I read this year was more impactful than Joe Sacco’s graphic work of nonfiction. Edward Said puts it best in the introduction: “There’s no obvious spin, no easily discernible line of doctrine, […] no attempt to smooth out what is for the most part a meager, anxious existence of uncertainty[.]” Originally published in 1993, Sacco’s work just began printing once again.
Heartstopper (vol. 1-4) by Alice Oseman
I somehow missed the Heartstopper train when it left the station a few years back, but was blessed with the opportunity to hop on and become as obsessed as my fellow Tumblr Bisexuals earlier this year. Oseman masterfully depicts the realities of growing up queer, while always leaving more room for joy and friendship than pain. I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that this series provides both a safe place for kids who see themselves in Nick and Charlie (or any of the other incredible cast of characters), as well as a reparative space for adults, who were never able to immerse themselves in such a warm narrative.
The Secret Lives of Country Gentlemen by K.J. Charles
I don’t think there is a romance author more criminally underrated than K.J. Charles. After devouring everything she has ever penned late last year, I was thrilled by the release of The Secret Lives of Country Gentlemen in April. So thrilled, in fact, I forced my partner to listen to the audiobook with me during a road trip. But in further praise of the wonder of Charles — he was as hooked as I was. The protagonists, stuffy aristocrat Garth and roguish smuggler Joss, are *chef’s kiss*. What really sets the story apart, though, is the social/political/historical commentary that drives the characters and the narrative.
Novelist as a Vocation by Haruki Murakami
My thoughts on books about writing and Murakami’s recent works are similar: they are both bad. But when they are good? They transform me into a disciple who will proselytize about This One Book ad nauseum. Novelist as a Vocation is That One Book. Murakami peels back the curtain on his career and delves into the minutiae of his process. Selfishly, when writers write about writing, I want detail, I want clarity, I want a checklist of what someone eats for breakfast every day. This book gives all of that and more. I genuinely feel that reading this has made me a more thoughtful writer.
One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston
It’s not easy to explain how a story about an adrift young woman falling in love with a 1970’s punk who just happens to be stuck in time on the Q Train is one of the most loving, joyful books I have ever read — but I will do my best. McQuiston made my heart ache with nostalgia for an early 20’s spent in Brooklyn apartments cluttered with tchotchkes and quirky roommates, falling in love each time I set foot on the subway. The characters, which could so easily have fallen into caricature, are given individual and attention and development that brings them to life. The bond between the protagonists is real and palpable and earnest and radiates off the page. The book is a messy explosion of earnestness and love that made me want to be a better person. I don’t think it gets much better than that.