My Top Books of 2013

It wouldn't be overstatement to say I got lost in December. I got busy doing things I needed to do instead of things I want to do, like this mess of a blog. However, since there have been inquiries as to my whereabouts and to my top book recommendations for the past year, well, here goes:

Tenth of December by George Saunders

Battleborn by Clare Vaye Watkins

The Fault in Our Stars by John Green

A Constellation of Vital Phenomena by Anthony Marra

NW by Zadie Smith

Norwegian by Night by Derek B. Miller

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

I Shudder by Paul Rudnick
Ready, Steady, Go by Shawn Levy

Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand

The Answer to the Riddle is Me: A Memoir of Amnesia by David McLean

Three striking fiction debuts (Watkins, Marra, Miller), two brilliant YA novels (Green & Zusak), Saunders at what could be the peak of his career (though I hope not), and Smith making certain I don't forget how great she is. 

In non-fiction, Rudnick made me roar with laughter, Hillenbrand made me feel despair and triumph, Levy thoroughly entertained me, and McLean scared the shit out of me (the book pubs January 14th so go buy it). 

In all, I finished 35 books and read some or most of another 15. There were some books I read that I never posted about--some were good enough and others were disappointments. A few made me angry for wasting my time and others I'd re-read if I could find the time because they gave me such joy. Looking over my blog and my master list, it was a fiction-heavy year and my choices lean just a little more heavily that way. 

You can read more about all these titles on the blog. I hope you manage to avoid the post-holiday doldrums but if you don't, the titles here may help get you through. 

As always, special thanks to friends in the book biz who still keep me in the pipeline, to authors who have been kind enough to contact me after reading my posts, and to you, my regular readers. Happy new year. 

The New Strength of the Short Story

For years, short stories have been given short shrift (is there any other kind of shrift?).  The complaints are many: collections don't sell as well as novels, the authors lack the ability to write full-length works, the reading public wants one long story, blah, freakin' blah, freakin' blah.  Oh yeah?  One word for you: Hemingway.  Another: Salinger.  I could go on but I won't belabor the point, an unusual position for me since many say that's what I do best. 

Interestingly, a recent Times article (http://goo.gl/ZNtMa) argues that the short story is making a comeback because it fits well on tablets and phones and because the distinct lack of length complements the collective short attention span of the early 21st century. Therefore, I find it especially heartening to find two short story collections included on the latest New York Times bestsellers list: Tenth of December by George Saunders and Vampires in the Lemon Grove by Karen Russell. 

Some assess the work of George Saunders as "weird just to be weird".  They are not only mistaken but are missing the point. Tenth of December, which has been lauded as "the best book you'll read this year" (http://goo.gl/DuSo1), is indeed his breakthrough book, a breathtaking collection of stories that left me panting.  It has boundless heart and humor (Puppy, Victory Lap), generous grace and warmth (the title story) and yet, like the bulk of Saunders' backlist, remains odd (My Chivalric Fiasco), often uncomfortable (Escape From Spiderhead), and sated with sadness (Home).  All of Saunders' work has always touched me deeply but he has reached new heights here.  His greatness is that he makes us feel and feel deeply for these characters.
  

Karen Russell can make something absolutely beautiful out of nothing.  St. Lucy's Home For Girls Raised by Wolves, her debut collection, was wildly imaginative, and her novel, Swamplandia!, itself born from a short story, proved she was only going to continue to amaze us.  The eight stories that comprise Vampires in the Lemon Grove are a testament to how well she writes and is replete with those breathless moments I relish.  The only drawback is that I found the collection a bit uneven. 

My favorite, The Barn at the End of Our Term, imagines former U. S. presidents reincarnated as horses. The main character is Rutherford B. Hayes and it is touching and funny and makes you wonder how in hell she ever arrived at the premise.  That said, it is her expert execution of that very premise that makes Russell shine.  Much the same can be said about the haunting Proving Up and Reeling for the Empire in which women in a Japanese silk factory begin to metamorphose into actual silkworms.  The title story somehow manages to make us think about vampires not as Bela Lugosi or their more recent incarnation as pale teen boyfriends but as people faced with living too long. 
 
Unfortunately, the overlong and, frankly, exhausting The New Veterans and the story on Arctic tail-gating that reads like a Shouts & Murmurs piece that needed an editor, bring down the collection by a notch.  There is still plenty at which to marvel, to absorb and commit to memory. 

The new face among the collections I've read recently is Clare Vaye Watkins and her impressive debut, Battleborn.  Watkins is only 28 but writes like the old soul I imagine she was at 8 and 12 and 18.  Throughout all ten stories, we are presented with characters in desperate need to connect, be it with the world, each other or themselves.  Watkins' home state of Nevada provides the setting for all the stories and often acts like a character itself, all dusty, hot, desperate, and often unforgiving.   

The Diggings is a tale of two brothers who set out for California in search of gold but find only madness and desperation.  It is terrifying.  Ghosts, Cowboys contains some autobiographical details about the author (or does it?). Watkins' father was known as Charles Manson's wingman and the story includes history of the Spahn ranch, the desert hideout of Manson's Family.  This may be a chance for the author to rid herself of the inglorious association into which she was born.  The Last Thing We Need, a story told in one-sided letters, is another stand-out.  Unlike Karen Russell's latest, Battleborn is the opposite of uneven. It thrills, it frightens, it questions, it aches and it delivers.