Well, I’m late to the party, but I’d also rather be late on these kinds of lists than early. I do not understand all of you who share your favorite books of the year at the start or middle of December – don’t you know you have full weeks of prime reading time left in the year? What if you discover a new favorite between Christmas and New Year’s??

That said, I read lots of great books in 2022. As I reflect on another year of reading, I’m struck by the gift that reading is. Because when I think about a year of reading, I don’t just picture an impressive-looking stack of books (though that’s cool to imagine). I think fondly of places I visited via the pages of that stack, of poignant lessons learned, and of friendships grown and strengthened through reading together. I’m already excited to imagine the gifts that my 2023 reading might have in store, and I hope my 2022 reading recap here might inspire you to travel somewhere new through one of these books, or to experience the delights of an old favorite book again, but as if for the first time. So, here are my lists and nerdy book lover stats for 2022 J

Total Books Read (new to me): 40

Books Re-read: 7 –

Death on the Nile by Agatha Christie

Prince Caspian by C.S. Lewis

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë

Persuasion by Jane Austen

The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett

Son of the Deep by K.B. Hoyle

The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis

Format Stats:

Read the physical book: 24.5/40 – 60%

Listened to the audiobook: 12.5/40 – 31%

Read the book on Kindle: 3/40 – 7.5%

This breakdown is fairly well back to its pre-2020 normal, but my Kindle is still fighting for its place. And yes, the decimal numbers do mean that I completed one book on 2022’s list –Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh – with both the hard copy and the audiobook. Probably an imperfect estimate, but it’s close. 

Other Fun Stats:

Male-authored books: 16

Female-authored books: 24

Most-read author: a tie between Wendell Berry and Agatha Christie at three books from each!

Shortest book: A Child’s Garden of Verses, 67 pages

Longest book: Anna Karenina, 838 pages 

Favorites of 2022 (in no particular order):

Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy – My first Russian novel, and wow, what a masterpiece. I was intimidated by the big Russian novels for many years, but I was thoroughly, pleasantly surprised and moved by this doorstop classic. Many know Anna Karenina for the titular character’s immoral choices, but I now think it’s more accurate to say that it explores and contrasts the fallout of a life spent pursuing selfishness against that of a life lived in self-denying service of others. If you want an entryway into the Russian novels, I highly recommend this one. I also heartily commend the discussions on it from the Close Reads Podcast. These episodes require a paid subscription, but I promise it’s WELL worth even just a month or two of investment! These conversations were instrumental to my understanding and enjoyment of Anna Karenina, and I’m confident that anyone would get at least twice as much out of it by reading it along with the marvelous literary guides of this podcast.

Jayber Crow by Wendell Berry – Will I ever go a year now without reading something by Wendell Berry? At the moment, I doubt it J Jayber Crow is now firmly in my favorites from him. It wrestles profoundly with faith, home, love, loss, family, and community through the eyes of Jayber Crow, the barber of Port William, Kentucky, and even though Berry says many of the same things in most of his work, somehow, he keeps making them shine anew. I read Jayber Crow with a friend (highly recommend that strategy for this one), and she observed that it’s impossible to speed-read Wendell Berry, which I think encapsulates him well. His writing is so deliberate and focused that it compels slowness. As he reflects on the sacredness of ordinary life, I am obliged to do the same, to my continual good.

All Creatures Great and Small Series by James Herriot – “How did you not grow up with James Herriot?” you might well ask. Well, I’ve been asking the same thing for the last year, I assure you! Somehow the delightful tales of James Herriot’s veterinary adventures in rural Yorkshire completely passed me by in childhood, but I’m making up for it now. I discovered Herriot’s stories because of the charming new TV adaptation of his books, but I’m happily staying for the show, books, and anything more. In 2022, I read the first two books in his memoir series, All Creatures Great and Small and All Things Bright and Beautiful, and yes, I’m counting them both in this list item J

Honorable Mentions:

Son of the Deep by K.B. Hoyle – A charming, magical retelling of The Little Mermaid that will make you laugh, cry, and daydream.

The Vanished Days by Susanna Kearsley – Yet another spellbinding journey through 1700s Scotland that keeps you guessing till the end, in true Kearsley style.

Rules of Civility by Amor Towles – I dove into Towles’s work in 2022 and was so glad this was my first from him. His exquisite prose and dynamic characters bring 1940s New York to glamorous life on the page.

A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles – A count confined to a luxury hotel at the height of the Bolshevik Revolution? Some might not buy it, but I was there for it. The Close Reads Podcast also discussed this one in 2022 and it was one of my favorite sets of episodes (and they’re available for free!)

The Sisters of Sea View by Julie Klassen – I look forward to my annual jaunt to England with Julie Klassen’s characters. This one provided a lovely escape to the Devon coast, and I’m already excited to go back when the next one in the series comes out this year!

Andy Catlett: Early Travels by Wendell Berry – A moving reflection on the contrasts between our current times and those that came before, explored through the eyes of a young Andy Catlett visiting his grandparents at Christmas. Having lost three grandparents in the last 18 months, I found this one deeply affecting and thought-provoking.

That’s all for now, friends! I hope you find something good to read from among these lists. Please drop your suggestions for my 2023 reading in the comments!

Full 2022 Book List (new-to-me books, listed in the order completed)

Waiting on the Word by Malcolm Guite

The Vanished Days by Susanna Kearsley

Letters from the Mountain by Ben Palpant

Reading the Sermon on the Mount with John Stott by John Stott with Douglas Connelly

Carved in Ebony by Jasmine Holmes

All Creatures Great and Small by James Herriot

Aggressively Happy by Joy Clarkson

Son of the Deep by K.B. Hoyle

Piranesi by Susanna Clarke

The Generosity: Poems by Luci Shaw

Rules of Civility by Amor Towles

Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy

Deeper by Dane Ortlund

Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh

Tess of the D’Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy

A Month in the Country by J.L. Carr

The Vanishing at Loxby Manor by Abigail Wilson

Murder at the Vicarage by Agatha Christie

The Murder of Mr. Wickham by Claudia Gray

Jayber Crow by Wendell Berry

All Things Bright and Beautiful by James Herriot

Bloomsbury Girls by Natalie Jenner

Of Paupers and Peers by Sheri Cobb South

The Moving Finger by Agatha Christie

The Gathering Table by Kathryn Springer

Love Practically by Nichole Van

Adjacent But Only Just by Nichole Van

The Brilliant Life of Eudora Honeysett by Annie Lyons

Given: Poems by Wendell Berry

A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles

Harvesting Fog: Poems by Luci Shaw

Crooked House by Agatha Christie

A Child’s Garden of Verses by Robert Louis Stevenson

The Six by K.B. Hoyle

Holier Than Thou by Jackie Hill Perry

Beneath His Silence by Hannah Linder

The Sisters of Sea View by Julie Klassen

Andy Catlett: Early Travels by Wendell Berry

The Windsor Knot by S.J. Bennett

Jane Austen’s Genius Guide to Life by Haley Stewart

Happy 2022, friends and readers! Taking time each year to reflect on my reading of the previous year and anticipate another year of reading ahead has become a favorite annual habit of mine. The world remains in a strange state, and my reading life continues to show me evidence of that. I read a lot in 2021 and even found whole new groups of friends who came together specifically to read (I see you, dear Membership!). But, in smaller ways, I can see how I’m still working my way back from the upheaval that 2020 brought on my reading life, not unlike the rest of the world!

I was surprised when I realized almost all of my favorites this year were nonfiction. But then I was less surprised when I noticed that I re-read almost entirely fiction, and most of them old favorites at that. I purposely gave myself a lot of space for re-reading this past year, and I’m so thankful I did! The bracing magic and comfort of Narnia, Hogwarts, Austen, and Tolkien did wonders for me in 2021, even while the many new books I read stretched and challenged and delighted me like only books can.

Another fascinating anecdote for me to notice was that among those new books were the number of poetry volumes. More poetry than I’ve ever read, in fact! I partly credit Wendell Berry’s poetry with saving my sanity in 2020, and since then, it’s spurred me on read more. I’m now glad to count several volumes of poetry among my favorites of the past year and look forward to stretching this newer love even more. I hope you’re also inspired to pick up something new from my lists, and I’d love to hear what you think I should read in 2022!

Total Books Read (new to me): 37!

Books Re-read: 11 –

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis

Prince Caspian by C.S. Lewis

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban by J.K. Rowling

The Silver Chair by C.S. Lewis

Gentle and Lowly by Dane Ortlund

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone by J.K. Rowling

The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien

The Silent Governess by Julie Klassen

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

Ross Poldark: A Novel of Cornwall, 1783-1787 by Winston Graham

Format Stats:

I was fascinated when I looked back my format choices this year. I listened to the audiobook for only five books out of my 37 new reads (about 13%), and I read exactly one on my Kindle, and that was only because it was an advance copy and not available in any other format! In years past, audiobooks have typically upped my totals by between 20 and 30 percent. But then I realized that if I included my re-reads in my total this year, this still might technically be the case, as I listened to quite a few of them. My Kindle, however, clearly continues to get the short end of the stick. I think I must still be recovering from so many dreaded Zoom calls.

Other Fun Stats:

Male-authored books: 16

Female-authored books: 20

(Note: this breakdown accounts for one book being a compilation of short, devotional essays authored by many men and women, so I didn’t include it in this stat)

Most-read author: Wendell Berry (4 books)

Shortest book: Understanding Baptism, 80 pages

Longest book: The Distant Hours, 562 pages

Favorites of 2021

Courage, Dear Heart by Rebecca K. Reynolds: This was my first read of 2021, and what a timely one it was. Rebecca Reynolds has become one of my favorite writers for The Rabbit Room, and this book contained all I now expect of her: compassion, honesty, love for the whimsical and power of story, and determination to help her readers see good in the world. Her vulnerable wrestling with God’s goodness amidst the world’s brokenness within these pages certainly helped me see some such good. If your soul feels weary, this might be the book for you.

This Beautiful Truth by Sarah Clarkson: I’m indebted to Sarah Clarkson’s writing for drawing my eyes up to the good and beautiful and for somehow speaking directly to my heart’s longings and struggles. In this part memoir and part theological study, she shares candidly about her long struggle with mental illness to show her readers how God is remaking a fallen world. Her skill with words has helped me put language to what I’ve believed about beauty and stories my whole life. A lovely musical note, a heart-wrenching story, or a mightily beautiful landscape have always had the power to steal my breath and give me what she calls “knowings” – a bone-deep certainty that good and beauty ultimately overcome evil and that something greater transcends our hurts and fears.

Hannah Coulter by Wendell Berry: After soaking in Berry’s poetry for so much of 2020, I approached his fiction with some carefulness, probably because I knew it would be as profound and wise as it did prove to be. His rich weaving of place and powerful yet quiet prose invited me to see place and the present as tools for glimpsing and preparing for eternity. Hannah Coulter left me with questions like, “How can I use my everyday spaces to point people towards what's beautiful and sacred? How can I intentionally tether my rhythms to the good and lasting?” Not many writers pull together the simple and profound so well as Wendell Berry, and I’m grateful for how this skill of his challenges my everyday human choices.

The God of the Garden by Andrew Peterson: Here’s a good rule of thumb: read everything Andrew Peterson writes! Or listen to it since he also writes songs! His love for Jesus offers a truly humbling example in this book as he shares his story and many spiritual reflections on trees. Each page pulses with his desire for his readers to be spurred on by Christ’s love to love their people and their places well, arguing that as one flourishes, so does the other. He presents a compelling case for how people were given the earth to cultivate and how the beauty we make in it now heralds the future remaking of the whole earth and its people. With each tree sketched, poem shared, and personal anecdote recounted, whether wryly funny or deeply personal, Andrew draws readers’ eyes towards the coming Kingdom saying, “It’s near! Look at all these seeds of it already here! Cultivate them and look for the buds with hope!” I’m certainly looking more closely because of this book. 

After Prayer by Malcolm Guite: Malcolm Guite wins the title of my poetry guide for 2021, and a worthy guide he’s been. He wrote this volume largely in response to and in reflection on George Herbert’s poem, “Prayer.” His verses invite readers to seek their own communion with God through prayer and to notice how faith in Christ gives eternal significance to an everyday life lived in faithfulness.

Accompanied by Angels: Poems of the Incarnation by Luci Shaw: I picked this up on a whim during my long-awaited visit to Goldberry Books (again, I see you, dear Membership!) just before Christmas and it then ended up landing as my final completed book of 2021. And what a book to end the year on. I’ve rarely encountered a writer as skilled at wrestling huge, divine, incomprehensible ideas into actual words as Luci Shaw. This little volume of poems stole my breath for fresh wonder at the incarnation and the weight of Christ’s sacrifice. I can’t recommend it enough.

Honorable Mentions:

Home Going: Poetry for a Season by Carolyn Weber: Carolyn Weber wrote some of my all-time favorite memoirs, so I was quick on the draw when I heard she’d also written poetry. This may be a slim little book, but its verses paint grand and gorgeous word pictures about faith, life, death, creation, family, and redemption.

Remembering by Wendell Berry: More rich reflections from Berry in this little novel on place, home, and rootedness. I particularly appreciated his focus in this one on trust, and how a full life often hinges on moving forward in trust. And spoiler alert: the final few pages make me weep.

Letters from Father Christmas by J.R.R. Tolkien: If you’ve not yet made this part of your regular Christmas reading, please change that in 2022! For many years, Tolkien wrote detailed letters with illustrations to his children styled as letters from Father Christmas. They are magical, funny, and so thoroughly and delightfully Tolkien.

Shadows of Swanford Abbey by Julie Klassen: Julie Klassen’s novels have offered a reliable and romantic escape for me for years now, and this one became a new favorite. An old Gothic abbey-turned-hotel in the English countryside proved an ideal setting for a murder mystery. A wholesome romance and redemptive themes for many of her richly drawn characters made lovely cherries on top. I’m already looking forward to her next one.

Happy reading, friends! I’d love to know if any of these caught your eye or what recommendations you might have for me for 2022!

2021 Book List (new-to-me books, listed in the order completed):

Courage, Dear Heart by Rebecca K. Reynolds

Much Ado About Nothing by William Shakespeare

Reality Hunger by David Shields

The Murder on the Links by Agatha Christie

Disappearing Earth by Julia Phillips

Mother to Son by Jasmine Holmes

Winter Solstice by Rosamunde Pilcher

Georgana’s Secret by Arlem Hawks

The Word in the Wilderness by Malcolm Guite

The Bruised Reed by Richard Sibbes

The Library Book by Susan Orlean

Ella Minnow Pea by Mark Dunn

This Beautiful Truth by Sarah Clarkson

Hannah Coulter by Wendell Berry

Remembering by Wendell Berry

What Does it Mean to Fear the Lord? by Michael Reeves

The Memory of Old Jack by Wendell Berry

After Prayer by Malcolm Guite

The Distant Hours by Kate Morton

Understanding Baptism by Bobby Jamieson

A World Lost by Wendell Berry

Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston

Suffering is Never for Nothing by Elisabeth Elliot

Heart in the Highlands by Heidi Kimball

The Convenient Marriage by Georgette Heyer

The God of the Garden by Andrew Peterson

The Dearly Beloved by Cara Wall

The Inimitable Jeeves by P.G. Wodehouse

The London House by Katherine Reay

Rescue Plan by Deepak Reju and Jonathan D. Holmes

Dorothy and Jack by Gina Dalfonzo

Once Upon a Wardrobe by Patti Callahan

Shadows of Swanford Abbey by Julie Klassen

Home Going: Poetry for a Season by Carolyn Weber

Letters from Father Christmas by J.R.R. Tolkien

The Weary World Rejoices, edited by Melissa Kruger

Accompanied by Angels: Poems of the Incarnation by Luci Shaw

Hi, everyone. This has to be the latest yearly book round-up post on record in the world of bookish blog posts, but nonetheless, I hope it’s still interesting and helpful if you enjoy this sort of thing. I’ve already written some about what a different reading year 2020 was for me, and I think the timing of this post, as well as my reading so far in 2021, just continues to prove how much my reading has been affected by the strangeness of this past year. And that’s okay! I hardly read a single new thing in January of this year. I lived in the Narnia books, the Harry Potter books, and Pride and Prejudice for most of it, and I was completely fine with that. It’s also sweet to look back on the books I re-read in 2020 and remember what a comfort they were to me. And despite how unexpected and strange my reading life was in 2020, I still read a lot of really good, edifying, thoughtful books. I hope you enjoy my list and are perhaps inspired to pick up something new. And the nerdy stats perhaps won’t interest anyone but me, but thank you for indulging me anyway :) 

Total Books Read (new to me): 33! 

Books Re-read: 6 – 

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis

Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone by J.K. Rowling

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets by J.K. Rowling

Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

Persuasion by Jane Austen

Format Breakdown:

- Read the physical book: 26/33 (~79%)

- Listened to the audiobook: 7/33 (~21%)

I found it interesting that I didn’t read anything on Kindle last year. Maybe I just couldn’t take one more screen, even if it does look more like a book.

Author Stats: 

- Male: 14

- Female: 15

Favorites of 2020

The Shell Seekers by Rosamunde Pilcher

A gentle, lyrical, endearing novel about family dynamics, wartime romance, and Cornwall. Haley Atwell’s narration of the audiobook is sublime.

Seeing Green: Don’t Let Envy Color Your Joy by Tilly Dillehay

Possibly my favorite Christian living book of the last 3-5 years. It not only helped me to understand envy and recognize its signs and damage, but also how to counteract it and how much joy we exchange when we give into it. It equipped me to fight envy, and, to my sweet surprise, more deeply delight in my brothers and sisters in Christ.

Gentle and Lowly: The Heart of Christ for Sinners and Sufferers by Dane Ortlund

There’s a reason this book has been so thoroughly read and recommended and reviewed in Christian circles since its publication last April. I believe its release at that particular time was clearly providential, given how difficult the following months became for so many people. I’m grateful to be one among the swarms who drew strength from it last year. It’s a warm and comforting divine hug, a balm to the soul, and a needed look at the “breadth and length and height and depth” of Christ’s love. Carefulness and trepidation might usually characterize some Christians’ conversation about Jesus’ affection for his people, but Dane Ortlund takes his readers there without hesitation. I’m so glad he does.

Sex and the City of God by Carolyn Weber

If you’re not raising an eyebrow at that title, congratulations. I know I did. But also, extra congratulations if you’ve already identified the two cultural references that it riffs on, because I admit that took me longer to do. This is a follow-up to Carolyn Weber’s memoir Surprised by Oxford, which remains one of my favorite books of all time. This is a worthy and heartfelt sequel about Carolyn’s growth as a new Christian, reordering desires and priorities based on Jesus, theology of the body and of being known, and much more. And she puts you right in the middle of her scenes with her gorgeous word pictures. It never gets old.

A Timbered Choir: The Sabbath Poems 1979-1997, and Selected Poems by Wendell Berry

I largely credit Wendell Berry with saving my 2020 reading. He helped me get out of my own thoughts, look at what was in front of me, recognize and name the good and beautiful things around me, and fix my heart heavenward over and over again. 

Winnie-the-Pooh and The House At Pooh Corner by A.A. Milne

My other 2020 reading saviors! If you need something equal parts lighthearted and profound, laugh-out-loud funny and tear-jerker poignant, look no further than A.A. Milne.

Honorable Mentions:

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens: My first read of this classic! God bless it, indeed. It is a sweet and redemptive delight. I needed it.

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson: Also a classic that I had somehow passed by in earlier years. Excellent crime drama made superb by Richard Armitage’s narration.

Heidi by Johanna Spyri: Yet another classic that I missed during childhood, but am thankful I read in 2020. Bright, innocent, sweet, and surprisingly gospel-rich.

Handle with Care by Lore Ferguson Wilbert: A needed and fascinating discussion on the theology of touch and the role of touch in a Christian’s life. I’ve been convinced for a while that touch is important, but this book convinced me of it even more. It’s not prescriptive, but it’s thoughtful, tied to Scripture, and may challenge you to at least start by giving a few more hugs. I think we could all use more of those, especially after this past year. 

The Jane Austen Society by Natalie Jenner: A fun jaunt through the post-WWII English countryside with a motley crew of Jane Austen fans who band together to save her legacy in southern England. An easy and charming read for anyone who enjoys Austen’s work. Richard Armitage narrates this one too and he’s perfect (he could read me the phone book and I think I’d swoon, tbh).

Happy reading, all! Let me know what your 2020 favorites were and what I should read in 2021!

Books Read in 2020 (full list of books I read that were new to me, in the order completed): 

The Reading Life by C.S. Lewis (compiled by David Downing and Michael Maudlin)

What is a Girl Worth? by Rachael Denhollander

The Biggest Story by Kevin DeYoung

Bella Poldark by Winston Graham

The Shell Seekers by Rosamunde Pilcher

Handle With Care by Lore Ferguson Wilbert

A Timbered Choir: The Sabbath Poems 1979-1997 by Wendell Berry

Winnie-the-Pooh by A.A. Milne

The House at Pooh Corner by A.A. Milne

Of Literature and Lattes by Katherine Reay

The Giver of Stars by Jojo Moyes

The Selected Poems of Wendell Berry

When Pain is Real and God Seems Silent by Ligon Duncan

The Jane Austen Society by Natalie Jenner

A Homemade Life by Molly Wizenberg

Heidi by Johanna Spyri

One Assembly by Jonathan Leeman

The Soul in Paraphrase: A Treasury of Classic Devotional Poems compiled by Leland Ryken

That Churchill Woman by Stephanie Barron

Sex and the City of God by Carolyn Weber

Gentle and Lowly by Dane Ortlund

Peace Like a River by Leif Enger

Sleeping Tiger by Rosamunde Pilcher

An Ivy Hill Christmas by Julie Klassen

Seeing Green by Tilly Dillehay

The Night Portrait by Laura Morelli

(A)Typical Woman by Abigail Dodds

A Castaway in Cornwall by Julie Klassen

God's Grandeur: the Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson

Friendish by Kelly Needham

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

Holiness by J.C. Ryle

As we bid farewell to another year, per usual, I’m reflecting on what I’ve read and the books that stood out. As previously discussed, 2020 was different for my reading life, just as it was different in practically all areas of life for most people. When I look back on the upheaval my reading life saw this past year, Wendell Berry and A.A. Milne stand out as its most obvious lifesavers. When I think about what I read in 2020, I’m filled with gratitude for the work of these two authors. Their writing breathed renewed life into my reading, steadied me amidst anxiety, and reminded me to recognize the beauty and goodness of everyday life. I hope what I’ve learned from them can encourage you too, help you think about what made your reading easier this past year, and perhaps move you to pick up a Berry or Milne book. 

Wendell Berry’s Poetry

I hadn’t read much poetry regularly before this year. But, as providence would have it, I picked up a volume of Wendell Berry’s the last weekend before my local library closed in March. I knew a bit about Berry and had been wanting to try something of his, but I had no idea just how much his poetry would mean to me in the coming weeks. I read his Selected Poems and A Timbered Choir: The Sabbath Poems 1979-1997, and there are still several across both volumes that I think about regularly. Berry’s reflective style and his steady focus on what is good, true, and beautiful were a balm to my tired heart. When I think about my time with his poems, I notice three overall themes in how they were a help to me–

1. They slowed me down

There’s something about the rhythm of a poem that forced me to stop and breathe. Even now, when I read a Berry poem, I can often nearly feel my heart rate coming down as I absorb it. In a time when my attention span was suffering, poetry ended up being the perfect solution, because its cadence enabled me to pay attention and to re-center myself in a way that prose couldn’t. And yet, poems are also comparatively short, so it wasn’t difficult to sit with a few at a time.

2. They helped me notice the simple good in front of me

Wendell Berry’s love of nature and simple living is well-known, and his poems bring it to center stage. His Kentucky farm life features heavily, as do the people he loves, his value for meaningful work and leisure, and other seemingly “everyday” things that become miraculous when you stop and consider. A friend of mine recently commented that he was thankful for how 2020 has reminded so many people to be grateful for “the basics” like family, health, church, and community. Wendell Berry certainly reminded me of how beautiful the basics can be too, and I’m so glad he did.

3. They helped me look up at the beauty of the world and away from self

I’ve always appreciated nature, but, as mentioned, Wendell Berry loves it. And now, at the end of 2020, I’d say that I also love it. His lyrical voice and word pictures awoke me to the beauty of my own backyard in new ways, and my daily walks gradually became an outlet not only for exercise, but for remembering how big and beautiful the world is, and, subsequently, my own smallness and finitude. Acceptance of one’s own limits can be difficult, but it’s also freeing. Berry turns often to the natural world’s grandeur both for thrills and for reminders to be at peace with the present, and I’m grateful for how his perspective encouraged me to look up and outside of myself.

A.A. Milne’s Winnie-the-Pooh Books

Somehow, A.A. Milne’s Pooh books didn’t make it into my childhood repertoire, and I was only passingly familiar with the animated movies based on them. I picked up the first two, Winnie-the-Pooh and The House at Pooh Corner, on the recommendation of two trusted friends when I was easing back into chapter books. Surely a light children’s story would help me work up to normal size books again, right? Right, BUT! Oh, how I ended up savoring these delightful tales. The characters are endearing, and the writing was easy to follow, yet it also surprised me with its wisdom.

1. They made me laugh

This may seem too obvious, but I don’t want to treat it like a small thing. We all needed laughter in 2020, and I’m glad I read books that provided it! Charles Dickens wrote in A Christmas Carol, “There is nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter and good humor,” and I found that true while reading about the Hundred Acre Wood and its inhabitants. I have the antics of Pooh, Tigger, Piglet, et al to thank for laughter when I needed it, and I think the fact that I didn’t expect to get it from them made it sweeter.

2. They made me remember the beauty and profoundness of simple children’s stories

The benefit of simplicity was again brought to my attention through these books. They’re short, easy, and the plots aren’t particularly exciting or fast-paced. The characters stay close to home and their troubles could be seen as silly if one resorts to easy cynicism. But I was reminded of how helpful and wholesome it can be to read a story stripped of extra frippery and mind games. I didn’t have to think hard or get uptight with suspense, so the poignant moments really smacked me in the face with their simple, heartwarming goodness. The final scene between Pooh and Christopher Robin in The House at Pooh Corner still gives me all the feels. *cue blinking*

Have I convinced you to try either of these authors yet? I hope so! But I’d also love to hear from you. If you struggled with reading in one way or another in 2020, what helped? What books or authors were steadying or newly inspiring for you amidst the year’s uncertainty? I’d love recommendations too! In closing, here’s my favorite poem from Wendell Berry. It’s a lot of people’s favorite, but there’s a reason for that :)

The Peace of Wild Things

by Wendell Berry

When despair for the world grows in me

and I wake in the night at the least sound

in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,

I go and lie down where the wood drake

rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.

I come into the peace of wild things

who do not tax their lives with forethought

of grief. I come into the presence of still water.

And I feel above me the day-blind stars

waiting with their light. For a time

I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Hi, friends. Wow, #2020, right? This year has wreaked havoc on many well-intentioned plans and dreams, and I confess my reading life and ability to put words on a page were among those things that were upended. But now, I’m back to share what I’ve learned and hope you’ll take what you will. Despite the many hardships of this year, I suspect I’m not the only one who can now look back in part and discern unexpected gifts that have come out of it, and though it’s relatively small in the grand scheme of things, my reading has certainly experienced some surprisingly good shifts.

My Takeaways from an Odd Reading Year 

1. Give yourself grace and adjust as you go
As life began changing so quickly in mid-March, one of the most noticeable everyday differences I experienced was a sudden inability to focus on reading, even if I’d been enjoying the book. I spaced out quickly and felt overwhelmed when I tried to read for long stretches. Thankfully, I think I had enough self-awareness to not beat myself up over this, and it was comforting to hear that mine was not an unusual experience. So, after some disappointment and adjusting of expectations, I gave myself more leeway on my reading goals for the year and didn’t try to force myself to read, especially during the most stressful early days of the pandemic. All that to say – if there’s a big stressor in your life, it’s okay to readjust. It’s okay to not be crushing 100+ pages every day. Maybe it’s a good time for new shows too (I watched several in the spring!), and maybe your brain just needs some time to catch up with the new situation. That said… 

2. Lean into your mood
I can’t emphasize this enough. I’m somewhat of a mood reader already, but also certainly choose books based on premeditated goals or because I want to be a well-rounded person. But this past spring, as I was recreating everyday routines and could almost feel my brain developing a new “reading in a pandemic” setting, I didn’t hesitate to go in whatever direction my mood took me. Sometimes that meant abandoning a book after only a chapter or two, and other times it meant returning to an old favorite for the hundredth time. It helped immensely to not force anything as my mind adjusted and learned how to cope.

3. Keep reading
That’s the most important thing, isn’t it? No matter how weary or sad your days may become, don’t give up. Keep adjusting and keep trying. The right book will come! 

What Helped My 2020 Reading

1. Poetry
This surprised me, but I’m so glad it happened. As mentioned, one of the earliest manifestations of pandemic-stress for me was a sudden inability to concentrate on reading. I couldn’t “get lost” in a book like I usually can, and this was both odd and frustrating since it would have been the ideal time to escape into another world. But I found that I wasn’t the only one experiencing the “pandemic fog” in my reading life. Apparently, a large external threat can affect the parts of the brain responsible for focus and retention! Once I understood this, I began turning to poetry since a poem doesn’t require the same length of attention as chapters worth of prose. To my relief and gratitude, it worked, and poetry soon became a lifeline and a joy. I could read several poems in one sitting within a relatively short amount of time, and even for a quick span, they helped me sit quietly and breathe deeply, leaving me a little calmer when I finished.

2. Really light and short fiction
In every sense of the word, I eased back into 300+ page books. I started with short, easy, meaningful children’s books, and slowly worked in some practical, accessible Christian living. Longer fiction was almost strictly on audio for a while, and everything I listened to fell within the “comfort reading” category – easy plots, somewhat predictable, but still good and thoughtful stories.

3. Re-reading favorites more than usual
Tried and true favorites always do wonders for me when I’m struggling. Yes, it takes time away from goals and checking off new books, but oh, how needed it is sometimes. Jane Austen, Louisa May Alcott, J.K. Rowling, and C.S. Lewis have done wonders for me this year, and I suspect I still may dust off at least one Susanna Kearsley book, and perhaps The Guernsey Literary & Potato Peel Pie Society, before December is up.

Unexpected Gifts of 2020 Reading

1. Newfound love for poetry
I hope to write more soon on what a gift the poems of Wendell Berry in particular have been to me this year, but truly, they were a God-send in their simple beauty and focus on the present. And, overall, I appreciated how poetry forced me to slow down and honed my ability to stop and reflect, even if just for a few minutes at a time.

2. Reading shorter and simpler is good
There are times to return to the basics of anything, and doing so can provide needed reminders of the beauty of those basics. I think 2020 has done that for a lot of people in many areas. We’re thankful in new ways for family, health, shelter, medicine, employment, and dinners with friends. Similarly, when I was relegated to simpler books, I remembered why I love reading, and was also reminded of the deep, abiding value of a straightforward children’s story. 

3. Re-reading led me to new or remembered favorites
Little Women was one of my earliest re-reads of this year, and I could never have imagined how valuable it would prove. I picked it up again after seeing the beautiful new movie adaptation, and it served sweet reminders about grief, love, and family. Again, it made me remember why I love good stories, and it also helped me process the losses of 2020 in ways I didn’t know I would need. 

On another note, I also re-read Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, which I first read four years ago and didn’t find especially worth its hype. But I think my comfort both with re-reading and with watching new things this year led me back to this one. The new Netflix film adaptation of Rebecca had caught my eye, and after watching it, I decided to give the book another try. I went for the audiobook this time and couldn’t listen fast enough. It was engrossing, just haunting enough, and beautifully suspenseful. Du Maurier’s style is unlike anything else I’ve read, and I’m so glad that my penchant for re-reading this year helped it click this time, giving me a new favorite from an old read.

What have you read or learned about reading in 2020? How has your reading changed this year? What has been particularly helpful or good in your reading? I’d love to hear.

Do you ever feel like you’ve met a new “kindred spirit,” as Anne Shirley would say, when you read a new book? It’s often a particular character of the book, but it can also be the author of the book. This week, I finished reading Book Girl: A Journey Through the Treasures & Transforming Power of a Reading Life. The connection I felt with the author of this book, Sarah Clarkson, is a little uncanny. I’ve often encountered authors whose words leap out at me and make me feel understood, but sometimes you come across an author that just “gets it” in a way you can’t totally explain. 

That was Sarah Clarkson and Book Girl for me. Book Girl is partly her memoir, partly her love letter to books and reading, and partly her own precious efforts to pass on the gifts that reading has given her. Whether you’re a lifelong reader, trying to find your way back into regular reading, or want to build a reading life for the first time, this book is for you. Sarah Clarkson shares her own dear reading experiences, exhorts her audience to join her in receiving the richness awaiting them in a reading life, and offers a treasure trove of book recommendations that will make bookish hearts sing. There are already way too many underlined and bookmarked pages in my copy of Book Girl to share all my favorite quotes, but here are a precious few that I’ll offer as their own endorsements. I’m so glad I read this book and know I’ll be returning to it often. Thank you, Sarah Clarkson.

On a Woman Who Reads 

“To be a book girl is to be formed by a bone-deep knowledge that goodness lies at the heart of existence. The feel of my mother’s warmth behind me as read is one of the first things I can remember – the safe anchor of her body and the music of her read-aloud voice were the ocean on which my small consciousness sailed into power through stories of music and brave maidens, feasts and castles, family and home. Before I knew how bad the world could be, I knew it was wondrously good.” 

“A woman who reads is a woman who taps in to the fundamental reality that she was created to learn, made to question, primed to grow by her interaction with words. A book girl is one who has grasped the wondrous fact that she has a mind of her own, a gift from her Creator, meant to be filled and stretched, challenged and satisfied by learning for all the days of her life.” 

“A woman who reads is a woman who has been prepared to accept the truth that beauty tells, to embrace the good news that imagination brings, the promise of joy that greets us in the happy endings or poignant insights of the novels we love. She has learned to glimpse eternity as it shimmers in story or song, to receive satisfaction of a happy ending as a promise. She has come to recognize the voice of love speaking in the language of image and imagination and to trust what it speaks as true.”

“A book girl imagines. She looks for God’s reality in the realm of story; she finds hope in beauty, grace in a fairy tale; and she revels in the crimson truth of a sunset. A woman who reads understands that symbol and image, story and song, the heft of mountains and the arc of the heavens speak to us in a language without words. A book girl knows that imagination — that faculty by which we perceive meaning beyond the mere surface of things, by which we picture and believe in 'things hoped for...not seen' (Hebrews 11:1, NASB) — is vital to faith in the God who crafted the world to tell of his presence and made us in his image as artists, storytellers, and creators.”

“A woman who reads is one who sees that every common bush is afire with God. A book girl is one who takes off her shoes, and wonders.”

“A woman who reads has learned how to hope. She understands the grief of the present – small sorrow or searing pain that it may be – is not the final word. ‘Love,’ as Chris Rice croons in his ballad, ‘has the final move,’ and the best stories teach a woman who reads how to frame her sorrow within the larger tale of both human endurance and divine redemption.”

On Imagination

“To reject image, emotion, and story as peripheral to faith is to ignore the way God created us – as beings made in his image to create in our turn, as souls capable of both reason and analysis but also equally capable of imagination, creativity, and emotion. We are living stories whose lives turn on our hope of the ultimate happy ending, and we too quickly forget the fact that faith is described as “the assurance of things hoped for” (or perhaps, imagined), “the conviction of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1, NASB). We miss the reality that much of Scripture comes to us as narrative, that the Psalms are also poems, that allegory and metaphor make up much of the prophets’ writings, and that the gospel appeals to us in the form of a story. If Jesus himself used parables to illustrate and announce the coming of his Kingdom, if he felt that the tale of a prodigal son was the best way to introduce the glory of grace or that the story of a lavishly merciful Samaritan was the ideal means to speak of God’s compassion, then we, too, can embrace both story and imagination as realms in which we may encounter and know God’s own truth.”

“We grow to know God better as we encounter his reality in stories that richly image his splendor or his power or even his humble presence among us. Can imagination be false? Of course. We can be deceived in the language of story just as we can in the language of atheistic science. But we humans are not merely ‘thinking things’ (as James K.A. Smith puts it) who can survive by assenting to a list of doctrinal truths. Rather, we are ‘defined by what [we] love,’ and our loves are deeply shaped by the stories we tell, the narratives we believe.”

“That’s what works of imagination do for us every day. What we rediscover in reading them is the extraordinary nature of real life. What we reclaim is a view of the world as charged with meaning, as shot through with the truth, beauty, and wisdom that we were created to find. From the disenchantment of a materialistic or simply bored viewpoint, in which things like trees and babies, music and story have lost their power to amaze or shape us by their truth, we are startled back into a wondering engagement with reality in its fullness.”

On How Stories Shape and Teach Us

“Stories shape our existence because we recognize in a deep part of ourselves that life itself is a story. The tale of the world opens with a sort of divine ‘once upon a time’ or ‘in the beginning.’ Much of Scripture is narrative, and the Gospels are crammed full of the parables Jesus told to announce and explain the coming of His kingdom.” “We need to have our attention restored, that holy capacity to be fully present to the moment in which we find ourselves. We need to be summoned back from the many tasks we have yet to do, the endless scroll of the online world, the frantic pace that nips at our heels like a pesky dog. We need to be halted in our frenzied steps and called back to this moment in its possibility, to this day, in its shifting seasonal beauty, to this person, irreplaceably precious. The written word, the great works of literature and essay – if we will only engage them for a few moments – have the power to arrest us in this way, to demand our attention, to set us back down in the present with a quieter mind and more attentive eyes.”

“You can’t read Tolkien or C.S. Lewis or George Eliot or Chaim Potok and come to the conclusion that heroism is something like a rare gift or special talent, something rooted in the extreme effort of a single human being. When you read those authors, you quickly come to see that heroes and heroines are formed by the narratives they believe. Frodo didn’t become a hero by gritting his hobbit teeth and pumping his small muscles; rather, he glimpsed the greater story of which his small, faithful actions were part.”

“Children are small philosophers, encountering the goodness and the darkness, the joyous and the grievous in their experiences with an intensity we sometimes forget as adults. Because of this, they need stories that deal in ultimates – stories whose images make a window into all that waits beyond the walls of the world, into the love that is always present to them, even in their fear. They need fantastical tales of knights and dragons, kings and castles, epic quests and fairy-tale love. They need myth. They need fantasy, because fantastical yarns and epic tales help children to picture a happy ending, to act bravely, to believe that beauty is possible.”

“This is the ongoing and wondrous gift of all good literature. I have long argued that children cannot think in abstract terms, but I’m increasingly convinced that adults cannot either. What does it mean to be good, brave, and resourceful? We struggle to define those vague, essential ideas, but we know exactly what they look like when we see them embodied in Lucy from the Narnia books or Dorothea in Middlemarch, or described in the sparkle and wit that is the spiritual writing of G.K. Chesterton. A great book meets you in the narrative motion of your own life, showing you in vividly imagined ways exactly what it looks like to be evil or good, brave or cowardly, each of those choices shaping the happy (or tragic) ending of the stories in which they’re made.”

Anne Bogel’s new book, I’d Rather Be Reading, opens with an essay titled “Confess Your Literary Sins.” She also shared some totally relatable literary confessions from readers on her blog earlier this year. This idea of sharing the more embarrassing aspects of your reading life is a hilarious exercise in self-evaluation, but Anne has proven it can also be an incredible bonding experience with fellow readers. Book people are the best people, but we can be weird about certain books, reading habits, and literary preferences. It’s easy to think other people will judge you for these literary “sins,” but in reality, they may be ripe for a C.S. Lewis, “What, you too?!” moment. With that in mind, I thought I’d share my own literary confessions. Do you relate? Please tell me in comments! 

• I once pulled a book off the shelf of Barnes & Noble, sat on the floor, and read the first three chapters to see if I wanted it. Then I ordered the book on Amazon later that afternoon. (Sorry, B&N. I do love you, I promise)
• Frequently, I DO become that person who talks during a movie or TV show about how it’s different from the book and how the book is better. (I just CAN’T help it, guys!)
• I like to think of myself as a classics fan, but I can’t do Charles Dickens. A Christmas Carol was fine, but I didn’t finish A Tale of Two Cities when it was assigned in 11th grade and I’ve never wanted to try again. Not particularly intrigued by Great Expectations or Oliver Twist either. Whether the legend that he was paid by the word is true or not, WHY SO WORDY, CHARLES?!
• I hated The Great Gatsby. None of the characters were likable and the whole story is just depressing. I cringe whenever people start gushing about it (sorry, y’all).
• I’ve loved Jane Austen since my teen years, but the MOVIE of Pride and Prejudice was actually my first introduction to her. And not even the one with Colin Firth. AND – I will STILL pick that movie (the non-Colin Firth one) if forced to choose one. Don’t @ me with your torches and pitchforks, purists. I’ve now read the book 5-6 times and can quote large parts of it from memory, okay?
• I didn’t read the Harry Potter books till adulthood. I actually had a sort of snooty attitude towards them as a teenager. But, judging by the way I talk about them now, you’d think I was one of those fangirls who was in line at the midnight release of each book.
• I occasionally love a cheesy Christian romance. Nothing steamy or overly melodramatic, just nice and predictable sweetness and fluff. It’s just good brain candy sometimes, okay?
• I took a Tolkien class in college. I loved it, but I was very tired of Tolkien by the end of that semester. Even this far on from it, I don’t think I’ve reread any of The Lord of the Rings or re-watched any of the movies since I finished that class. It was just a LOT, okay?! And I still think The Chronicles of Narnia are better.
• That said, I love C.S. Lewis! But his non-fiction and higher-level works can still be a struggle for me. I know Till We Have Faces is supposed to be one of his best, but I couldn’t totally grasp it. And the Space trilogy? My head hurts just thinking about it.
• Even deeper confession on that note: I joined a book club specifically to read Lewis's Space trilogy, but resorted to skimming the second book and didn't finish the third. 
• Back to that Tolkien class for a moment. Our last assigned reading for the semester was The Silmarillion. I deliberately decided not to read it after maybe 10 pages or less. And, to this day, I’m pretty sure I made something up for one of the essay questions on the final. And I STILL made an A in the class? I’ll never know how.
• I’m partial to rather extended restroom breaks when I’m reading something particularly good. I’ve also gotten rather good at reading while walking.
• I’ve used two online library systems for e-books for well over two years now. If there’s an eternal waiting list for a particular book, I’ll place a hold in both systems for it so that hopefully one will be faster than the other.
• I hated Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck.
• I once “went to bed” much earlier than usual, but what I actually did was just lay in bed for 3-4 hours to finish listening to my latest and greatest audiobook. I just HAD to finish! (It was The Great Alone by Kristin Hannah – I recommend having tissues on hand)
• If I love a book, I REALLY love it. As in, I turn into a full-out fangirl who reads articles and author interviews (or interviews and biographies about the author if they’re dead), stalks the author’s event tours, finds out everything possible about the inspiration and the writing process, and researches any film versions and all the behind-the-scenes facts.
• If I’m afraid a character is going to die, I’ll often skip ahead in the book and just skim lightly for the character’s name. There are times when the suspense and angst are just too much.
• I hated The Old Man and the Sea by Hemingway. Where is the plot?
• When I was reading The Four Swans, the sixth book in Winston Graham’s Poldark series, I reached the tense and emotionally charged “church scene” (you know it, fellow Poldarkians) during a plane ride. I kept right on reading after landing, but it seemed like the fastest taxi-in ever – I was so engrossed that I nearly missed my opening to stand up and leave the plane!
• I’m never more unrealistic than when I get reserve-happy on the library catalog. Inevitably, they all come in at once and when I’m in the middle of reading something else that I don’t want to put down. When I get a lot of holds in at once, I almost always return at least one, often more, to the library unread. But it still just feels so bookish and smart to have a ton of things on hold and then to walk out of the library with a tote bag full of books! 

Okay, I now actually feel pretty good about getting all that off my chest. Your turn – what are your literary confessions? Don’t hold back!

In the past three years or so, I’ve revitalized and reorganized my reading life. I like to make reading goals and keep track of what I’m reading, and I’ve become pretty good at finding the hidden pockets of time in the day that allow me to get more reading done. All of this has made me realize how book nerdy I am, and because I’m realizing how REALLY book nerdy I am, I thought I’d share an update on where I am with my 2018 reading! This update will include really nerdy details like how many books I’ve read so far, what formats I’ve used to read, favorites so far, and a few other tidbits. Hopefully this will inspire you in some way with a new book recommendation, a new idea for keeping track of your reading, or a nudge to try a new reading format you haven’t before. 

2018 reading goal: Read 50 books (They must be new to me. Re-reads do not count!)
 
Number of books read so far: 37 – 74% there!
 
Currently reading: The Miller’s Dance (Poldark series #9) by Winston Graham, Hero of the Empire by Candice Millard, Sing! by Keith and Kristyn Getty
 
Standouts so far: The Winter Sea by Susanna Kearsley, The War that Saved my Life by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley, We Were the Lucky Ones by Georgia Hunter (this one is likely to end up a lifetime favorite)
 
Book format breakdown so far: 

• I read the physical book: 21/37 (~58%) 
• I listened to the audiobook version: 11/37 (~30%) 
• I read the Kindle e-book version: 5/37 (~13.5%)

I was honestly surprised at what a chunk of my reading has consisted of audiobooks. I’ve loved having audiobooks as a supplement for a few years now, but the idea that I’ve read 30% more books this year so far because of them was a very pleasant surprise! They do make a difference, y’all! 

How I’m tracking my books: 
I became a bullet journaler last year and it’s been a blast. I thought for a long time that I wasn’t cool enough for it, but the beauty of bullet journaling is that it’s completely customizable for your life and your needs. For me, it’s been a lifesaver for scheduling purposes and list purposes. I sure love to make me some lists, and having one notebook for all of them simplifies life exponentially. The majority of my lists have to do with books, of course. Here are the big ones.
 

• Books to Read: this is for pretty much any title that catches my interest and makes me feel a desire to remember it. I probably used to be too liberal with what I’d write down, so I’ve gotten a little better about writing down ones that I think I’ll legitimately read. I’ll write down the title and author on this list with a bullet point next to it. If I read the book, I’ll then put an X through the bullet point. If I abandon the book or come back to the list and decide I’m not as interested as I thought, I’ll put a little sideways caret through bullet point: > 
• Books Read in [Year]: I have 2017 and 2018 lists for this! It’s so fun to see the list growing throughout the year and then to go back at the end and remember all that I’ve read. These are simply formatted: they’re numbered lists with the title and author of each book included, and if I’ve read a book in a format other than a hard copy, I’ll note that in parentheses.
• Books Re-Read in [Year]: These are formatted the same way as the full annual lists. I love a good re-read and generally get a few in each year. I’m pretty nostalgic so I like to remember these too. 

And in other news, my Kindle and my Audible app are both stocked for my second-in-my-life trip to ENGLAND very soon! Yes, I’m determined to bring ZERO physical books on this trip. That may sound unrealistic to the people who know me, and it even does to me at moments, but I just keep reminding myself that I’m going to the land where all the good books were written. First stop is Cambridge, then it’ll be on to Surrey, London, and hopefully the surrounding areas. I’m excited to see some places I didn’t see on my last trip and also to see dear friends who live in England. Check back later for lots of pictures! :)

Just a few more days till I get to roam through more rolling green hills and 1000-year-old churches. Bring it on! 

I’m a devoted audiobook listener, but also fairly picky about what books I’ll listen to instead of reading visually. And I’m sure most audiobook fans would agree that perhaps the most important component of a good audiobook is the narrator. Even if it’s a great book, a bad narrator can ruin the experience. So, what’s needed in a narrator to make a good book become a really fabulous audiobook? Here are a few ideas I’ve settled on. What are yours? I’d love to hear your thoughts in comments! 

Knowing and Enjoying the Text 
It’s easy to tell if a narrator isn’t enjoying or immersed in the story they’re reading. The voice will often be flat, monotone, or just feel detached from the story. The person reading to you is a large part of what will pull you in and help you really sink into a story, so if they’re not totally into it, there’s a good chance you won’t be either. Knowledge of the text is also important for an audiobook narrator. With a thorough understanding of the story and characters, a narrator will more accurately represent each character’s personality, the author’s intent, and any other subtleties that are important for a reader to notice. 

Not Distracting from the Story 
The best audiobook narrators know how to make the reader forget they’re present, because they make the story that engaging. Voice nuance is vital for a narrator, but some can really overdo it. Nothing’s worse than feeling like I’m being yelled at or not being able to decipher what the narrator’s actual voice sounds like because they sound too formal the whole time. 

Character Voices 
I’d imagine this has to be the trickiest and most demanding part of audio narration, as some books have so many characters to voice. But giving each character a distinct voice is a vitally important part of making the listening experience fun and memorable. The best audiobooks I’ve listened to have nailed this aspect perfectly. The voice variations for each character are usually different enough to give them all a personality and to make it easy to determine who is speaking, but they’re also slight enough so that the narrator doesn’t sound too artificial or forced. It has to be exhausting. And I just have to say that Jim Dale, narrator of all seven Harry Potter books, wins the all-time prize for this. He gave every single character in that series a unique voice and never slipped up once. There had to be 700 or more voices total. It’s incredible. 

Tone Matching the Story 
This is an important part of conveying the mood of the story and the direction of the drama. It may seem obvious, but if something scary happens, the narrator needs to let the listener hear fear in his voice. If a serious or disturbing situation arises, the narrator should adopt a grave tone. There’s a very fine line between this and becoming that distraction mentioned above, but tone is everything when it comes to showing where the story is going.

So what do you look for in audiobook narration? I'd love to hear your thoughts! To conclude, I'll leave a few of my favorite narrators for you:
 

• As already mentioned, Jim Dale's narration of the Harry Potter series
• Dan Stevens, particularly his narration of Murder on the Orient Express
• Oliver J. Hembrough's narration of the Poldark series

What are your favorites?

You guys, I know I say it every year, but it finally feels like autumn and it makes my heart so GLAD. Though DC does autumn well, it took a bit longer for it to get its act together this time around. But this week, I finally got to pull my fall jacket out of the closet and my cup of hot tea now actually matches the weather and general mood. 

That said, I hope you’re enjoying the season in a likewise manner and have a nice stack of books on your coffee table to go with your hot fall beverage of choice. “Seasonal reading” is something I’ve come to appreciate maybe over the last year. Naturally, a good book is a good book at any time of year, but there’s definitely something nice about reading a story with significant ambiance and a tone that reflects the current season. So if you need ideas for what to crack open this fall, here are my picks. 

Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie 

There’s nothing like curling up with a blanket, hot beverage, and a murder mystery on a fall evening, am I right? I recently finished a new audiobook version of Orient Express and it was phenomenal. This was my first Christie read and I now understand why she’s known as the queen of mystery and crime fiction. And let me tell you, this book has an atmosphere. A train stuck in a snow drift. One of the passengers murdered in the dead of night. One detective among the remaining passengers. Every other passenger a suspect. Oh, and did I mention that Dan Stevens narrates the audio version I heard? Need I say more?
Photo Credit: Goodreads





The Angry Tide (Poldark #7) by Winston Graham 

I talk Poldark plenty on this blog, and I honestly think any of the books could be fitting choices for autumn because of the wild, stormy, and sometimes dark ambiance of the whole storyline. The Cornwall setting mirrors the protagonist, Ross Poldark, in that both of them are rugged, unpredictable, and untamed. But I’ve now read up through book 7, The Angry Tide, and I think this installment is particularly suited to autumn. It has a darker feel than many of the other volumes and Ross is forced to face struggles within himself that he has perhaps left buried for too long. It’s a book of trial and loss, but also of rebuilding and hope.
Photo Credit: Goodreads






Persuasion by Jane Austen 

I think this is one of Austen’s lesser known gems. It’s shorter and has a mellower tone compared to the bright and lively starlets of her canon like Pride and Prejudice or Emma. It’s set during autumn, much of the story takes place near the seashore, and the heroine is not a blushing, innocent girl in the prime of youth. The curtain opens on Anne Elliot, a woman of twenty-nine who lives with deeply held regret over a broken engagement from eight years earlier. What follows is a thoughtful, heartwarming tale on second chances and love set against the test of time. 







Testament of Youth by Vera Brittain 

I confess upfront that I gave this one a try recently, but did not finish it. However, I read enough to appreciate the writing and setting. This is the memoir of a woman who worked as a nurse during World War I and reflects back on that experience with fairly intense despondency. She argues that the war robbed her generation of its youth, never to be recovered. It was the deep sadness and resentment of the author’s tone that made it unfit for me at this point, but I still appreciated her memory of this harrowing war, her honesty about what it did to her, and her beautiful prose. This quote stands out particularly in my memory and it definitely rings of autumn: 
“I suppose it’s no use weeping over last year’s dead leaves. All the tears in the world cannot make them green again. Perhaps when it is all over we shall find that other and better things have taken root in the mould of their dying.”
Photo Credit: Goodreads



Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë

This is a classic on many school reading lists, but if that’s been your only exposure to it, it’s well worth revisiting, especially in the fall. It’s a gothic romance and a mystery, and the action unfolds on the windy moors of northern England in an old mansion where odd sounds and accidents seem to occur regularly. The plain, orphaned Jane Eyre stole my heart a long time ago with her strong principles and generous heart, and the enigmatic Mr. Rochester is the perfect definition of a tortured and brooding hero.
Photo Credit: Goodreads








Beneath a Scarlet Sky by Mark T. Sullivan 

This is my current read. Doesn’t the mere title suggest autumn? I’m very excited to dig in further. It’s a novelization of true events surrounding the life of Pino Lella, an Italian who endured the World War II Nazi occupation of Italy during his teen years. He worked as an underground resister and helper of Jews, a soldier, and eventually as a spy inside German leadership. I’m looking forward to learning more about this remarkable man’s life and being all hunched up in suspense with a blanket as I read. 
Photo Credit: Goodreads








Happy Thursday, happy fall, and happy reading. Do you have any favorite books that are particularly suited to autumn? Any other favorites that are better in another specific season? Let me know in comments!