I realized early this year that I do not read enough female authors. Reflecting on what I’ve read over the past two years, I think I may have only read like three books written by women. How dismal.

I suspect it’s a ratio thing — a lot of books on the shelves are penned by male authors, so it’s just more likely that when I do pick something up, it’ll be something written by a man. (And I shouldn’t have to say this, but just in case, I don’t have anything against male writers.)

But that’s hardly a good enough reason, is it? (Nope, it’s not.) I do feel it is important that I make more of an effort to read female authors, just to diversify my own reading habits. I already make it a point to read non-English books (translated into English, obviously) on a regular basis, so why not also make it a point to read more works by women too?

I’m not sure what kind of point I’m trying to make. Most likely no point. This is just my par-for-the-course rambling way of saying that I’m pleased to see a lot more women make it into my list of favorite books this year.

The Bone People by Keri Hulme

Pop the champagne and pass out the noisemakers because this is the best thing I’ve read all year, hands down. It’s a difficult story, and I’m sure elements of it will drive a lot of people to hate it — you know, like the rampant physical abuse of a mute child, and how frustrating the characters can be as they get in their own way. The novel is about Kerewin, a loner who finds a mysterious mute child in her home one day and becomes enmeshed in the lives of this child and his deeply flawed stepfather. It’s refreshing to read about someone who is cynical, but not cartoonishly so, and where they aren’t set up as someone who needs to undergo a complete personality transplant to be “saved.” She’s complicated and messy, like everyone else in the book; though admittedly, that does make it weird that it wraps up in a too-neat kind of way. But it’s such a beautifully written story, and a great glimpse into the Maori language and culture. There’s even a glossary in the back of the Maori terms used, though if you’re lazy like me, you won’t bother to refer to it until after you’re done reading the book to see if your “figure it out via context clues” method worked.

Augustus by John Williams

This is very similar to I, Claudius by Robert Graves, in that both are fictionalized accounts of the lives and reigns of Roman emperors. And maybe that is a very specific genre that I enjoy because I loved this one too. If you know of any other “fictionalized accounts of the lives and reigns of Roman emperors,” please alert me immediately to its existence. The only other thing I’ve read by John Williams is Stoner (I highly recommend it) but Augustus does not at all resemble it. To give you an example, I laughed quite a few times reading this — Williams does thinly veiled contempt quite well –, whereas I laughed approximately Not At All times reading Stoner. I will say, though, that it helps to know your Roman history to really appreciate this book, otherwise it’s a little too easy to get lost in the names of people and places and events.
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I’m pretty nosy, so I like to know what people are doing: eating, visiting, reading. The Millions has an annual feature where a bunch of smart and interesting people (many are writers themselves) talk about the best books they read over the course of the year. Thanks to some of those lists, I’ve read and enjoyed a bunch of books I would have never picked up otherwise, like a book about finance and another about the sad life of an unextraordinary man.

So, here is my own Year in Reading list for 2015, chock full of the best books I’ve had the pleasure to consume with my hands, eyeballs, and brain (since The Millions likely won’t ask a random Seattle girl for the scoop on her own reading habits):

The Devil in the White City by Erik Larson

Ah, one of my favorite topics: old timey crime! This is a true crime novel about Dr. H. H. Holmes, a serial killer who operated in Chicago around the time of the 1893 World’s Fair. It’s super creepy and compelling in that macabre way that all murder stories are, but what I enjoyed the most is how Larson also incorporated the serial killer’s environment — the preparation for the Chicago World’s Fair — into the narrative, which is fascinating in its own right. If you want a real page-turner and to not sleep for a few nights thinking about what monsters some people can be and also to inundate your brain with many facts on what it took to build the world’s first Ferris wheel, read this. Also, I read somewhere that this is being turned into a movie starring Leo DiCaprio as Holmes. Hmmmm.

Of Orcas and Men by David Neiwert

Killer whales are amazing. When I went whale watching in Alaska as a kid, I wept with joy when a pod of them emerged alongside the boat. And despite how much we may enjoy them, we can all agree that marine mammal parks aren’t ideal for such powerful, clever, and athletic animals. This book covers orcas in the wild — specifically the J, K, and L pods that live around the Pacific Northwest. It also goes into the history of human interactions with orcas, which unfortunately includes the capture of them for parks like Sea World. It won’t hit emotionally bludgeon you the way watching Blackfish does, but it is a real eye-opener on what orcas are like outside of performing for fish and applause. Neiwert clearly cares a great deal about these animals, and he makes it clear why you should too without becoming preachy about it.

Rocket Men by Craig Nelson

Another non-fiction pick! What can I say, I like non-fiction as much as I enjoy a good yarn. This one covers the Apollo missions, which duh, are intense. We have space and science and underdogs! And finally, when it comes to the eventual launch of the International Space Station, working together! I read another book about the Apollo missions last year which glossed over all the bad things that happened during the Space Race. That’s a real pity, because the bad things are just as fascinating and essential as the good things — also, there was a heartbreaking passage in here about how JFK championed the lunar landing but was assassinated before he could see it actually happen. I may or may not have cried on the airplane as I read that bit.

The Sheltering Sky by Paul Bowles

Finally, a work of fiction! I only realize now after putting this list together just how much of my reading this year has been in the non-fiction realm. But this story stuck with me. It’s pretty depressing and frustrating, but don’t worry, you’re supposed to feel that way. An American couple travel through the North African desert and it seems the longer they’re out there, the more out of touch with each other and delusional they become about who they actually are and what they’re actually capable of accomplishing. Both of the lead characters are infuriating, but it’s also not very hard to see where they’re coming from as they try to “find themselves,” which is a little unsettling at times. You understand them, despite loathing them. But warning: things don’t go well for these two.

And just to make this list an even five recommendations, I’ll add in something I read prior to this year that I still find myself thinking about:

We, the Drowned by Carsten Jensen

Translated from Danish, this novel looks huge, but reading it was so enjoyable that I hardly noticed the book was about 75 pounds and that my biceps had become quite mighty from holding it hour after hour. The story focuses on several sailors and their lives ashore and at sea before, during, and after war in the 1840s (around the time Denmark was founded?), and moves on from there. Jensen’s writing captures that tense and wild feeling of being completely unmoored, if you’ll pardon my very-much-intended nautical pun. It’s heartbreaking, but also optimistic in a way — and the entire narrative reads like an epic along the same lines as The Odyssey, but without the weird monsters. The ocean (and plain ol’ people), it turns out, is damn scary enough.

Now, what have you all been reading this year?