Happy New Year gang! With not much time left in 2014, we’ve come full circle – back to where we started, with a roundup of my favourite books I read throughout the year. It was another mixed bag of reading – genres and topics and locales and time periods galore. I guess if there’s a recurring theme to be spotted in my book choices, it’s war, or the aftermath of war. Iraq, Afghanistan, Rwanda, Sierra Leone, the Civil War, Word War I, World War II… I don’t know if there were are more of these works being published these days, or if I’m just drawn to them and seek them out. There’s certainly no shortage of them – the wars or the books.

So here is the list of books I rated 5 stars… Don’t worry, they’re not all dark and heavy! Many of these had me laughing out loud.

(Note to self: Next year, make notes on the books as I read them, so as not to struggle to recall in December what I read last January. (Chances of me taking notes on the books as I read them: zero.))

A Tale for the Time Being, by Ruth Ozeki
Perfectly executed intertwining storylines of a writer living on a remote island off the coast of BC and a 16-year old girl in Japan, with some mystery and a juuuuust hint of magical realism mixed in.

Thank You for Your Service, by David Finkel
Before I opened this book I expected it to be 5 stars – and it actually met, even exceeded, expectations. Finkel compassionately chronicles a battalion of soldiers after returning home from Iraq, post “surge.” There’s no shortage of demons that these veterans face even after they are Stateside – the ones in the government who don’t do enough to aid re-integration and, at worst, hinder it; the ones in society who will simply never understand; and the ones in their own heads, who continue to inflict invisible wounds. (I know this is a blog about books and not about other random things that I like, but I do have another recommendation: the theatre production of The Two Worlds of Charlie F. It’s not related to the book at all but I happened to read and see them around the same time and they remind me of each other. Make the effort to see it if you ever find yourself near where it happens to be playing.)

The Orenda, by Joseph Boyden
I looooooooooove Joseph Boyden. That hair. That face. Those eyes. Those arms. That voice. That… wait, what was I talking about? Oh yes, Joseph Boyden’s book. Ahem… If you can stand the blood and violence, this story of an Iroquois girl and a Huron warrior and a Catholic priest in the 17^th century, in the wilds of what will become Ontario, is illuminating and powerful. If only Grade 7 history textbooks were written like this! (With apologies to hubby, and to Mrs. Boyden. For ogling her husband the least I can do is give her a shout out. Give a read to Babylon Rolling, a novel of New Orleans on the verge of a huge hurricane.)

Annabel, by Kathleen Winter
I’m think it’s safe to say the residents of Labrador in 1968 weren’t familiar with LGBPTTQQIIAA. So what to do when an intersex child is born? Wayne’s family does what they think best, but you know going into this book that there will be heartache. Winter writes of her characters’ trials and triumphs with such tenderness.

Radiance of Tomorrow, by Ishmael Beah
It’s beyond tragic that there’s an entire genre devoted to genocide and conflict in African countries. I wish these events had never happened – would STOP happening – so that these books, as well-written as they are, wouldn’t exist. There are a few that rise above the rest; the most staggering, the most heart-wrenching, the most profound. Beah’s first-hand account of the Sierra Leone civil war, A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier, is one of those. His follow-up novel of hope and rebuilding, Radiance of Tomorrow, is too.

Hyperbole and a Half: Unfortunate Situations, Flawed Coping Mechanisms, Mayhem, and Other Things That Happened, by Allie Brosh
Instructions: Read a bit; laugh out loud. Read a bit more; laugh so hard you fall off whatever furniture you were reclining on and you can’t breathe and you can’t talk and your eyes leak and your surprised spouse has to pick up the book and read a bit to find out just what the hell sent you into this paroxysm. Read some more; smile at the poignancy, maybe even tear up, just a little. Read on; recognize yourself everywhere. Repeat.

Imagining Argentina, by Lawrence Thornton
Do South American writers only write magical realism? And do they only write magnificent books? Based on the small sample size I’ve read, I’d have to say yes!

Baking Cakes in Kigali, by Gaile Parkin
It’s set in a country recovering from genocide and beset by AIDS, yet Baking Cakes in Kigali somehow manages to be a warm and enjoyable story. That’s due to lovable protagonist Angel, and a cavalcade of entertaining characters.

The Massey Murder: A Maid, Her Master and the Trial that Shocked a Country, by Charlotte Gray
Imagine a Toronto where the streets are a jumble of horse-drawn carriages, newfangled automobiles and iconic streetcars – and nary a traffic light in sight. Where ladies – who can’t yet vote – gather in parlours in the afternoons. Where newsboys hawk six daily newspapers on street corners, for one, two or three cents. Where the police department includes a “morality” unit, no doubt befitting the city’s moniker “Toronto the good.” And where The Annex is a fashionable neighbourhood (some things never change!) on the far reaches of town. This is the setting in which an 18-year-old maid murders a member of the prominent Massey family. Gray covers all of it: the crime, the trial and a fascinating social history of Toronto in the early 20^th century.

One More Thing: Stories and Other Stories, by B.J. Novak
The pieces in this collection (by a star/writer/director of The Office) aren’t all really stories. Some of them are more like vignettes, or even fragments. Or, as I like to think of them, little gems of creativity. The audiobook is a treat, narrated by Novak himself and a passel of his famous friends.

Longbourn, by Jo Baker
If you loved Pride and Prejudice, you’ll like this book, which shows another side of life in the Bennett household. If you didn’t like Pride and Prejudice, you might like this book, because it shows a completely different side of life in the Bennett household. If you’ve never heard of Pride and Prejudice, this book is not for you.

The Emperor of Paris, by C.S. Richardson
Tip #1: Don’t read this book when you’re really busy with other things and only have time to read it in dribs and drabs. Save it for when you have a chunk of a day to read it all at once, and savour the splendid writing and charming story. Tip #2: Speaking of savouring, don’t read this book while hungry. It’s set in a bakery and delicious scents practically waft from the pages.

84, Charing Cross Road, by Helene Hanff
When I travelled to London, I didn’t visit Charing Cross Road, famous for its specialty and used bookshops. What was I thinking?! If I ever get up the nerve to get on a plane over the Atlantic again, I won’t repeat that mistake. In the meantime, I’ll content myself with this delightful little epistolary memoir. The correspondence between a New York screenwriter and a British bookseller made me laugh and weep.

TransAtlantic, by Colum McCann
I may never traverse the Atlantic again, but the characters in TransAtlantic do just that. The three story arcs crisscross the ocean, in 1919, 1845 and 1998, loosely weaving together the threads of this affecting novel. (P.S.: You liked that segue, didn’t you?!)

The Lion Seeker, by Kenneth Bonert
If a blend of Yiddish and English makes “Yinglish,” what would you call a mix of English, Yiddish and Afrikaans? There’s plenty of it in The Lion Seeker, adding to the authentic feel of this story of the Lithuanian diaspora in South Africa in the 1930s and 1940s. Isaac Helger and his mother Gitelle are superbly written, and unforgettable. I’ve no hesitation in saying this is the best work of fiction I read this year. Amazingly, The Lion Seeker is Bonert’s first book.

My Salinger Year, by Joanna Rakoff
Will I love this book? Let’s see… Memoir of a young woman, who has no idea what to do with her life after graduating and ends up working in publishing – check. Set in a book-lined and lamp-lit Manhattan literary office – check. Features the J.D. Salinger, author of one of my all-time favourite books – check. Contains ruminations (although brief) on what makes David Foster Wallace so awesome – check. Yup, I’m going to love this book!

For Joshua: An Ojibway Father Teaches His Son, by Richard Wagamese
I’m not usually one for spiritual books, but in recounting his lifelong struggles and journey, Wagamese had me completely absorbed.

The Bone Clocks, by David Mitchell
This one’s “twirly.” As in, it twirls through time and dimensions and narrators. There’s something for everyone here; it starts in the 1980s and wends its way through to a dystopian 2043. If you’ve ever read Mitchell before, this is a sort-of “meta book,” explaining some of what you read in his past works.

An Untamed State, by Roxane Gay
The opening lines of this novel of a kidnapping in Haiti kicked my heart from my chest to my throat, where it lodged the entire time I was reading. The story is as brutal as you can possibly imagine, but Gay writes it exquisitely.

Between Gods: A Memoir, by Alison Pick
Say someone is half-Jewish, only she doesn’t know it, but then she finds out by accident, and even after it’s out in the open her family still doesn’t want to talk about it much, but she wants to explore this side of her heritage even though she’s partly terrified of doing exactly that, and when she grows up she writes a novel about the Holocaust and decides to study and fully convert to Judaism all the while suffering from depression, and then writes a frank and engaging account about all of it. That’s how you end up with the novel Far to Go, and the memoir Between Gods.

All My Puny Sorrows, by Miriam Toews
After further reflection, I’m bumping this one up to 5 stars. Anyone who can write poignantly about suicide and make her readers laugh along the way has achieved an impressive feat.

Redeployment, by Phil Klay
This collection of short stories is a mosaic of places, and characters, and units, and ranks, and job descriptions, and emotions. It’s a vivid peek into at the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan from many points of view.

Station Eleven, by Emily St. John Mandel
Why do I love speculative fiction, especially of the post-apocalyptic variety? Maybe I think it’s an instruction manual – as if I can prepare for whatever terrorist attack/natural disaster/virus will end society as we know it, and then life on the other side of that event. More realistically, I’ll likely be among the first to perish. And depending on how closely the future resembles the post-flu world in Station Eleven, I may be just fine with that. This one is gripping. Bonus: Includes lovely descriptions of Toronto in the early parts of the book.

Being Mortal: Medicine and What Matters in the End, by Atul Gawande
Don’t ask what possesses me to read this stuff. I’m not a doctor, or support worker, or medical ethicist, or – thank god and knock on wood – a patient. But hey, I am mortal! So is everyone I care about, for that matter. Dr. Gawande examines modern society and medicine’s overarching quest to always prolong all human life in the face of aging and sickness – to always buy more time. But he suggests the bodily and mental tolls of that philosophy should, at times, turn our focus from quantity to quality.

Wake, by Anna Hope
Set against the backdrop of post-WWI London and the journey of The Unknown Warrior from a battlefield on the continent to Westminster Abbey are these touching storylines of three women dealing with loss.

The Love Song of Miss Queenie Hennessy, by Rachel Joyce
Remember Harold Fry, and his unlikely pilgrimage across England? Well here we have the parallel story of the dying woman he walks all those miles to see. While Harold walks, we wait at the hospice with Queenie, reading our way through a series of letters that tell her life story, and her part in Harold’s story. It’s sweet and intimate, and even better than Harold Fry.

Honourable mentions to the following books:

• A Fairy Tale, by Jonas T. Bengtsson
• The Betrayers, by David Bezmozgis
• The Bear, by Claire Cameron
• Sweetland, by Michael Crummey
• The Empty Room, by Lauren B. Davis
• All the Light We Cannot See, by Anthony Doerr
• The Narrow Road to the Deep North, by Richard Flanagan
• The Devil on Her Tongue, by Linda Holeman
• Tell, by Frances Itani
• The Far Side of the Sky, by Daniel Kalla
• Orange Is the New Black: My Year in a Women’s Prison, by Piper Kerman
• 10:04, by Ben Lerner
• Flash Boys: A Wall Street Revolt, by Michael Lewis
• The Children Act, by Ian McEwan
• The Deception of Livvy Higgs, by Donna Morrissey
• The Underground Girls of Kabul: In Search of a Hidden Resistance in Afghanistan, by Jenny Nordberg
• The Rise & Fall of Great Powers, by Tom Rachman
• My October, by Claire Holden Rothman
• The Rosie Project, by Graeme Simsion
• The Lemon Grove, by Helen Walsh

Grand totals for the year: 105 books (73 fiction and 32 non-fiction), 36,597 pages, and 47 blog posts. Uh, make that, 48, including this one. I can’t thank you enough for reading and commenting! An extra big thanks goes to Jennie – this was her idea, and she had to work to convince me.

Now be sure to share with us – what were YOUR favourite books of the year?