I’ll be honest.
With things so deeply out of whack for me and my family from April to August, I couldn’t keep up with my To-Be-Read list this year. It felt painful to not have the bandwidth to read at my usual clip, particularly after I got a flood of new recommendations this summer at Lambda Literary’s Emerging Writer’s Retreat. (FYI: You can watch my Lambda reading here.)
I’m ending the year with at least 30 books in my queue. Of course, my TBR list doesn’t really operate like a queue. If I get too methodical about it, my pleasure reading can quickly start to feel like an assignment (something that Sarah and I talk about in the upcoming third installment of the podcast). What gets read next is usually based on how I’m feeling and not on what’s been on my list the longest.
I have another list though (I’m a Virgo so of course I keep multiple lists). This one catalogs everything I’ve read throughout the year. I like maintaining this list because it helps me remember titles accurately, correct spellings of authors’ names, and publishing details. When I particularly love a book on my “Complete” list, I add three asterisks next to the title. It’s a non-hierarchical way to signal what stories endeared themselves to me.
With that said—as we close out 2022—I present you with The Quinnies: my favorite reads of the year. Please note, most of these titles are not new. Only one was published in 2022. They span across genres. Some are better executed than others. There was really only one guiding factor for me in making this list of awardees: my own enjoyment. So please, enjoy.
Best Re-read: The Midwife’s Apprentice by Karen Cushman
This is a children’s book that opens with the protagonist sleeping in a pile of poo. Perfect.
The story follows Beetle who is employed by the local midwife, Jane Sharp. She learns Jane’s tricks of the trade and also internalizes a newfound belief in herself.
It seems that later editions of this book have changed Beetle’s name to Brat for reasons that I have yet not been able to suss out via Google search. Also of note, in reading Vagina Obscura (a book I have not yet finished), I learned that Jane Sharp was a real person. Her writings from the 1600s constitute some of the earliest medical literature on the female-assigned body.
The Midwife’s Apprentice was a childhood favorite of mine. I had the audio cassette and a hard copy. I read it multiple times growing up, finding it infinitely more compelling than Karen Cushman’s arguably more recognizable work, Catherine Called Birdy. I still love the cover art, picturing a girl with a cartoonishly large head posing with a mortar and pestle. This book ignited my 4th grade obsession with the middle ages and later my continuous obsession with AFAB-related health.
In addition to recognition from The Quinnies, this book is a 1996 Newberry Medal winner.
Richest/Most Satisfying: The Chosen and the Beautiful by Nghi Vo
I did not know that this book was a Great Gatsby adaptation until well into the first chapter. I am not really a Gatsby fan, nor am I a big reader of vampire fiction. But Nghi Vo’s lustrous adaptation of Fitzgerald’s novel refused to be rejected by a skeptical reader like me.
If you too bristle at the concept, all I can say is you just have to read this book. The imagery is exquisite and there’s just enough magic to keep things interesting. I particularly loved the queering of Jordan Baker’s story and how Vo tackles the topic of race, class, and gender dynamics in queer and polyamorous relationships.
I got this book at Northshire Bookstore in Saratoga Springs, NY. Run, don’t walk to get your copy.
Most Titillating: WE HAVE A TIE!
AND
Diamond Street: The Story of the Little Town with the Big Red Light District by Bruce Edward Hall.
I once used the word ‘titillating’ to describe something to my students in one of my high school classes and I never heard the end of it. The word itself has the power to produce the effect it describes. So too do these two works of creative nonfiction by Hall and Emerson.
Both are written by non-historians.
Hall was formerly a puppeteer for the Romper Room and The Muppets Take Manhattan. He is also the author of Tea That Burns: A Family Memoir of Chinatown. His work in Diamond Street lays out the history of sex work in upstate New York, with Hudson, NY at it’s epicenter. Compiled through cataloging local lore, interviews (anonymous and not), and countless records, the tone of this work is slice-of-life with a touch of 19th century TMZ. I particularly loved reading Hall’s descriptions of bumbling local law enforcement and failed stings. Diamond Street made me reflect about the ways in which we preserve history and what is deemed appropriate of cultural remembrance. There’s much more to say about this topic but for now just know that this is a must-read if you have any relationship to the Hudson Valley.
Emerson, like Hall, has a media background, specifically in radio. His book, Unmask Alice, dives into the weaponization of young adult literature to reinforce conservative cultural values. As someone who read Go Ask Alice as a preteen, I had no idea that the work was fictional. It was put forth to me as a cautionary tale, a tactic that it seems parents and educators have been relying on for decades. Reading about the story's origins was fascinating. With that said, Emerson’s salacious tone and editorializing is probably not for everyone. Some of the research seems a bit suss given the general lack of citations. Even so, if you ever had to read Go Ask Alice or Jay’s Journal in school, this book is for you.
Be on the look out for a second installment of The Quinnies coming VERY soon to your inbox!