The 10 Best Books I Read in 2019
Chosen from over 40 options, here are the authors, titles, and ideas that stuck with me this year
I read a lot of books in 2019. The lion’s share of them somewhere within the broader fantasy/sci-fi/speculative fiction genre, but I also finished a few works of history, journalism, and general fiction as well. I’m pretty satisfied with the mix on the list below — it’s a pretty good representation of the different authors and kinds of books I dabbled in this year.
As a quick disclaimer, these are all books that I read in 2019, not books that came out in 2019. There’s a little bit of overlap, but most of titles on this list didn’t actually come out this year. Finally, the books here are listed mostly in the order in which I read them, which is to say that where a book falls here doesn’t indicate how it stacked up against the rest of what I read.
Katherine Arden, Winter of the Witch
This book (which is one of the few actually from 2019) is the end of Arden’s phenomenal Winternight trilogy. I discovered that these books existed in late 2018, and still caught up by the time the last one released in January. All three are excellent reads, and this one is the perfect end to the saga.
The Winternight books are set in Medieval Russia, but with a twist: all of the old Russian fairy tales are real. Because of this setting, I’d categorize the entire trilogy as a mix between fairy tale and fantasy, blending new stories of magic with tales that Russians treasured for centuries. It’s perhaps the perfect recipe for books that I’d be interested in — I used to study Russian history and I’m fascinated by how fairy tales as a part of the past reflected and shaped the societies they came out of.
If you’re not like me, and aren’t immediately captivated by the setting, it’s also worth knowing that these books are extremely well-written. There’s plenty of action and a plot that moves pretty quickly through each novel. I’ve seen the Winternight trilogy praised by nearly everyone who has read it, so it’s safe to say that Arden is quickly becoming a well-known author in the circles of the internet that are interested in stories like these.
Nicholas Eames — Kings of the Wyld
Kings of the Wyld is a fantasy novel that has essentially two premises. The first is that adventurers/warriors/magicians who travel in groups to fight monsters are treated like the rockstars of the 1970s and 1980s. It’s a theme that drives the entire story, to an extent, since these groups are explicitly called “bands.” The second premise is that the main character and his friends are all old, retired, and essentially has-beens. So, when they decide to embark on another adventure, they’re reuniting an old band for a different kind of reunion tour.
The first reason that these two premises work is that Eames has a wry, deadpan sense of humor that recognizes the absurdity of the world he has created. There’s plenty of adventure in Kings of the Wyld, but it’s also one of the funniest fantasy books I’ve ever read. The plot points alone aren’t enough to carry this book, I would say, but Eames’ writing style and penchant for creating truly ridiculous sequences of events for his characters elevate the entire project to a high level. The tone of this book is like a breath of fresh air and it’s one of the best that I read this year (along with the sequel, Bloody Rose).
Robert Jackson Bennett — Foundryside
At the moment I’m writing this, I’m not sure what my favorite book I read this year is. However, if I chose to rank them all, Foundryside would at least be in the top three. It, just like the first two books here, is a fantasy novel, but it’s the beginning of a trilogy and has me waiting excitedly for the sequel early next year. The key to the world is magic objects that have been told (by magic writing) to behave a certain way, like a carriage that can move without horses. I’ve seen other writers describe this system as something like computer code, which I think is a pretty good way to think about it. All the magic in the world flows from human-made designs.
As interesting as Bennett’s conception of magic in this novel is, it’s the sense of atmosphere and the quickly-moving plot that made me like Foundryside so much. I also find the main character, Sancia, interesting. She’s deeply sarcastic, and the way she approaches nearly everything that happens to her is always enthralling. Finally, like any good first book in a trilogy, Foundryside sets up a much deeper story that has me waiting eagerly to read the sequel. Shorefall is out early next year, and I can’t wait to get my hands on it.
Fredrick Backman, A Man Called Ove
Last year, I read Backman’s terrific Beartown and Us Against You, two novels about a town in rural Sweden that lives and dies by its hockey team. Both books deal with heavy themes like hate, love, over-reliance on athletics, and the tension between urban and rural areas. A Man Called Ove is an earlier work by Backman, one that is — instead of an entire town — just about the life of one man, named Ove. It’s a little smaller in scope that his two hockey books, but the quality is just as high.
Ove is introduced as a curmudgeon, a man with little love for anyone or anything around him. However, as the story progresses, Backman slowly builds Ove’s story for readers, and it’s one of the most heartbreaking and tender narratives I’ve read in years. It turns out that Ove has lived through several tragedies, and the ways that he reacts to these events and the people around him turn a gruff old man into one of the most compelling fictional characters I can think of.
I don’t want to say anything more in hopes of keeping the most important story beats hidden. But, I will say that there were multiple parts of the book that brought me to tears. A Man Called Ove is big-hearted and sympathetic in a way that few other novels can match, and it’s one of the best I read this year.
Mark Leibovich, Big Game: The NFL in Dangerous Times
This book is one of a handful of non-fiction titles I read this year and the only one in that category to land on this list. Leibovich is a journalist who traditionally covers politics, but his foray into football is one of the best deep dives into the inner-workings of the NFL that I can imagine. There are incredible stories about what the owners are really like, interesting analysis of the league’s politics over the last few years, and some incredible writing that carries it all forward.
The NFL exists as a cultural monolith that few other brands or businesses in America can match. Even in the last few years, with the concussion evidence now at an impossible-to-ignore level, professional football still occupies the top place in the hierarchy of sports (in money, at least, but what other category really matters?). That cultural omnipresence makes the NFL an interesting subject on its own, but the stories about Tom Brady, Jerry Jones, and how fundamentally weird a lot of players and owners are make this book one of my favorites of the year. It’s a wonderful read.
The second-favorite nonfiction book I read in 2019 was Sam Anderson’s Boom Town, which I liked a lot, but just not quite enough to put here.
Tim Johnston, The Current
A few years ago, I read Tim Johnston’s Descent, a phenomenal book about how a family deals with the aftermath of a horrible event. In many ways, The Current is similar — it’s about what happens after a murder and how families and communities respond to it. But where the scope of Descent was always just a few people, The Current quickly grows beyond its immediate cast to tell a story that spans decades and hundreds of miles. I wouldn’t describe the plot as slow at any point throughout the novel, but it steadily picks up pace through each chapter, racing to a beautiful ending that stuck with me for days.
Johnston is really good at making the location of his fiction a key part of the narrative. Whether its mountains, rivers, snow, ice, or the barren winter of Iowa in general, the atmosphere and setting of The Current (and Descent as well) adds to the tension and tone of the book. So much of this story is driven by its plot, so I don’t want to say anything more here than I already have. I’ll end it with this — this is a tense thriller with memorable characters and an interesting story that kept me hooked from the beginning to the end.
Alastair Reynolds, The Prefect
This is one of those science fiction books with a dense, winding plot that takes several sharp detours. It also took me a surprisingly long time to read: I had to renew it from the library at least once. Usually, I’m not terribly interested in books with deep, complex plots, but Reynolds made this novel interesting with believable (and likable) characters, coupled with strong writing.
I don’t want to say much about the specific characters and events in The Prefect, because much of this book’s appeal comes from uncovering each new layer and discovering characters’ backstories. However, it has a strong mix of likable and unlikable personalities, a well thought out universe with many different communities, and multiple existential threats that never feel overblown or unrealistic. I went back and read another of Reynolds’s books after finishing The Prefect, and if I have the time I expect to check out more. This book may be intimidating, but there’s a good plot and interesting characters for anyone who’s willing to take the plunge.
Adrian Tchaikovsky, Children of Ruin
I wrote about this book not too long ago, so I won’t give a detailed synopsis here, except to say that it takes place in the far future with humans, aliens, and sentient life engineered (to at least an extent) by the people who left earth. Like The Prefect, Children of Ruin is dense and complicated, and I would probably place it slightly below Reynolds’s work in terms of overall quality. But Tchaikovsky is also a good writer, and this book asks some pretty interesting questions about the future and humanity.
For anyone who wants more of what I think about Children of Ruin, I’d recommend the post I already wrote on it, but it’s a really good book and one of the best I read this year.
Becky Chambers, The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet
Becky Chambers writes science fiction, but not in the space-opera-with-a-complex-plot kind of way. Instead, her books have garnered the description “slice of life” because of their interesting characters and deeply developed alien societies. Chambers writes compelling fiction, but it’s because of her characters and descriptions, not necessarily because of pounding action or high stakes (though both elements are occasionally present). I’ve read three of her books so far, but The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet is both the first work of hers I encountered and the best of this loosely connected trilogy.
In this book, a group of human and alien protagonists on a ship called the Wayfarer take on a dangerous mission that could be worth a lot of money. However, the focus of the story is each character’s life and internal motivations, not just the fate of the overall mission. Rosemary (nominally the main character, though the perspective shifts between several others as well) is hiding from something, for example, while the captain, navigator, and other crew members all have their own goals.
Perhaps most importantly, all of Chambers’s characters genuinely care about each other and look out for one another throughout the entire story. This mutual selflessness is important because it makes the reader want the entire crew to succeed. I personally find that I’m always more interested to read about characters who generally try to do the right thing rather than just look out for themselves, and The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet is a textbook example of why that is an effective writing strategy.
Mary H.K. Choi, Emergency Contact
Other than perhaps Big Game, Emergency Contact is probably the book that seems the most out of place on this list at first glance. It’s primarily a romance, often told through text conversations between its two protagonists, and is quite different from the fantasy and sci-fi that dominates most of this list. But, it’s also incredibly compelling, with believable, sympathetic characters and an emotional tone that feels perfect.
I’ve never tried to write fictional text messages, but I imagine it would be incredibly difficult to weave these short-form missives into a broader novel. Choi makes it look easy though, and none of the dialog between the characters (whether digital or face-to-face) ever felt awkward or artificial. Texting has brought profound changes to how humans communicate, whether romantically or otherwise. Choi does a great job of both exploring those intricacies and telling a really good story about two young people falling in love.
