The Travelling Cat Chronicles by Hiro Arikawa, translated by Phillip Gabriel. This book was beautiful and bittersweet. I enjoyed the voice of the cat! He was funny and insightful. A lovely book all around.

Dungeon Crawler Carl by Matt Dinniman. LitRPG! A genre I didn’t realize existed! This book was a lot of fun to read for someone who’s played a lot of video games. I also love Princess Donut; she’s a riot.

The Toll by Neal Shusterman. Usually in three-part young adult series like this, I find that the first one is the best and the other two are lackluster at best. I was pleasantly surprised with how much I enjoyed this last book of the series! I read the whole trilogy in 6 days while I had COVID; I just couldn’t stop reading!

Tooth and Claw by Jo Walton. This was such a charming book! I was immediately invested in the characters and needed to know what would happen to them. The dragon lore was also very interesting, making it a little darker than it would have been had the story been about humans. I had hoped Walton had written more books like this, but apparently not. The world was so interesting!

The Nineties: A Book by Chuck Klosterman. This book was super interesting. I’m obsessed with the nineties (when I was 6-16), and this book provided the ability to relive the things I remember.

Honorable mentions go to: Futuristic Violence and Fancy Suits by David Wong and Flatterland by Ian Stewart.

Iron Flame by Rebecca Yarros. I didn’t realize I could enjoy a fantasy romance series as much as I have with The Empyrean, but apparently I enjoy my books like I enjoy my food: a little spicy. Yarros has excellent pacing and character development; I’m totally invested in the riders and in the bond between Violet and Xaden. I’m able to totally escape as I read, which is exactly what I’m looking for in a fantasy book. And the twist at the end? Give me book 3 now, please. (Read book 3: give me book 4, now.)

Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver. I found the theme of redemption in this novel perhaps a lot more than some of the nay-sayers of this tale retold. To the overlooked, the forgotten, the invisible, the ‘trash’, the trashed, the small-town ‘less-thans’: this story will make you feel seen. To anyone who can’t relate to a story like this: read it. Period.

A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik. While I was a bit disappointed with the rest of the series, the first in the Scholomance is a good one. I found myself chuckling often at the bristly, sarcastic protagonist throughout. Add magic and a bit of thrill and violence? Sign me up.

Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries by Heather Fawcett. This cozy romantasy* tale made me fall in love with Emily Wilde, who seems to definitely have some neurodivergent behaviors and was written by someone who understands them. I’ll be reading more of this series, that’s for sure!

*I did not have “started reading romantasy” on my 2025 board, but I’m enjoying the ride.

ADHD is Awesome: A Guide to (Mostly) Thriving with ADHD by Penn Holderness and Kim Holderness. I was pleasantly surprised at how helpful this book was in understanding ADHD and, more importantly, how to learn to thrive with it. I’ll most likely be purchasing a hard copy to keep and revisit whenever I need to!

A Proud Taste for Scarlet and Miniver by E.L. Konigsburg. Eleanor of Aquitaine, Bishop Suger, Empress Matilda and William the Marshall wait in Heaven for King Henry II to ascend after many years below, in this immensely engaging work of historical fiction for young people. The framing device here was fascinating, allowing for a certain amount of commentary and introspection that might not otherwise have been possible. The story itself, the narrative of Eleanor’s life, was also fascinating, and I thought Konigsburg did an excellent job writing from the different perspectives of her four storytellers. Suger’s beauty and spirit-focused account is very different from Empress Matilda’s tart (but fair) take on her daughter-in-law. Well worth the time of any young reader who enjoys historical fiction, or who is fascinated by Medieval Europe and/or Eleanor of Aquitaine.

Can We Save the Tiger? by Martin Jenkins, illustrated by Vicki White. A gorgeous, thoughtful picture book about endangered species from British children’s author and conservationist Martin Jenkins and former zookeeper and natural history illustrator Vicki White. The artwork, created using pencil and oil paint, is stunningly beautiful, and both black and white and color illustrations demand attention, and will have young readers poring over them. The informative but conversational tone taken by Jenkins in the text, and the balance shown in his narration, between the destruction wrought by humans on the natural world, and the attention demanded (and deserved) by human need, was striking. Too often in books on conservation, there is a tendency to demonize humans, and to treat every wrong decision made, in the past or the current day, as arising from either stupidity or intentional malice. It was refreshing to see this strategy (and error, in my opinion) avoided, and to see that one of the fundamental stumbling blocks to animal conservation—the competition between animal and human need—is accurately and compassionately described. Likewise, it was heartening to see that while attention was paid to the tragedy of past extinctions and the danger of possible future ones, success stories were also included, and room was left open for hope. This kind of balance is vanishingly rare in children’s books of this kind. Rather than simplifying and dumbing things down, the narrative here preserves complexity, treating children as intelligent beings capable of wrestling with that complexity.

The Troll With No Heart in His Body and Other Tales of Trolls from Norway by Lise Lunge-Larsen, illustrated by Betsy Bowen. Nine troll stories from traditional Norwegian folklore are retold in this gorgeous collection from author Lise Lunge-Larson and illustrator Betsy Bowen. This marvelous, marvelous book has everything I look for in a folktale collection: fascinating stories that entertain and enthrall, a storyteller who documents source material and specifies how she had modified each tale, a thoughtful introduction situating the tales in their cultural milieu, and gorgeous artwork. I was familiar with a number of these tales, and have run across a number of picture book retellings of both The Three Billy Goats Gruff and The White Cat in the Dovre Mountains, but other stories were either unfamiliar, or only partially familiar, with elements I knew but others I didn’t. However that may be, I enjoyed all of them, I enjoyed the supplemental discussion of them, and I enjoyed the accompanying woodcut illustrations.

I Talk Like a River by Jordan Scott, illustrated by Sydney Smith. Beautifully written and beautifully illustrated, this is a picture book gem! It addresses a subject—namely, stuttering—in a sensitive, emotionally resonant and ultimately thought-provoking way. The central idea of the book—the boy narrator coming to identify his manner of speaking with the sound of a river’s waters, after his father makes that comparison—is one taken from poet Jordan Scott’s own childhood, and offers a thoughtful way to look at the issue of speech, and how this young boy makes sounds. The text here is simple, but it communicates volumes, not just about the boy’s experiences, but about how the world around him treats him because of his differences. There were moments when I was close to weeping, particularly when the boy described how he remembers the fact that he talks like a river in order to keep himself from crying, or from remaining silent.

The visuals here are beautiful, often breathtakingly so, but they are also marvelously well designed, helping to communicate and intensify what is happening in the text. In one two-page spread at the beginning, when the boy is just waking up and sounds are first intruding upon him, there are three images in a horizontal arrangement across the pages, broken up by text, as if to indicate the sense of a series of sounds and experiences in quick succession. Later in the book, when the boy’s father has suggested that his speech is akin to the sound of the river, a two-page spread depicting him with his eyes closed, listening intently, then opens up into a gorgeous four-page spread, full of light and wonder, in which the boy is wading in the waters of that river. These illustrative choices are simply brilliant, working with the text to communicate deeper meaning and emotional experience. This, the synergy between text and image, is the hallmark of a great picture book, and makes this a truly special read.

The Swallow: A Ghost Story by Charis Cotter. Set in Toronto in 1963, this atmospheric, engrossing and ultimately poignant middle-grade novel explores the friendship between two young girls, as they struggle to understand and contend with the ghosts around them. I found it immensely entertaining and ultimately very moving. Charis Cotter knows how to spin a tale, and how to create an intense and spooky atmosphere, evoking a truly eerie feeling in the reader. The emotional trajectory of the tale, and of the two characters, was sensitively depicted, and I felt great sympathy for both. The reveal toward the end of the book was a powerful one, for all that I saw it coming. I pretty much loved everything about this book, from the beautiful cover art to the dual-perspective narrative. I even loved the fact that the folk song, She’s Like the Sparrow was worked into the tale, as this is one of my favorite songs of all time. An absolutely gorgeous rendition, done by the Irish singer Karan Casey, can be found on Youtube, HERE.

Honorable mentions go to: The Diddakoi and Mr. McFadden’s Hallowe’en by Rumer Godden (always a favorite of mine), Nana Upstairs & Nana Downstairs by Tomie dePaola (the second year in a row dePaola has made my honorable mentions), and Little Red Riding Hood by Trina Schart Hyman.

Lavinia by Ursula K. Le Guin. Le Guin enchants you immediately, as Lavinia’s own voice and stories glow with an existential nostalgia that you have no right feeling for pre-Roman Latium. Lavinia’s story, previously unsung, is human and mystical in turns, mixing heartache and family matters with ancient ritual and poetic necromancy. Le Guin weaves history into the story with skill; although the Roman abstraction of divinity is probably too early for Lavinia’s timeline, she still pulls us directly and beautifully into her ancient world. If you liked Circe, you’ll love this.

Our Share of Night by Mariana Enríquez, translated by Megan McDowell. There’s a heaviness in this book that, while indeed long, is more about the horrors humans inflict upon each other, especially for greed. Cruelty and trauma are side by side in each chapter. I started it full of curiosity but that feeling quickly built into a gross miasma as I read. Folk magic and disturbed secret societies gather around power where they can find it and get rid of anyone necessary along the way. If you like the dark, you’ll enjoy the humanity in the book as well. If you don’t, I don’t recommend it.

Our Evenings by Allan Hollinghurst. There’s a closeness in watching a kid grow up over the course of a book, but I didn’t have to get far into it to start caring for this character. What struck me most wasn’t the plot or characters, but the way Hollinghurst draws out those thoughts between thoughts, those feelings you can’t name; a perspective hard to find outside of poetry or maybe Virginia Woolf. I felt I was in the midst of a classic but found few met-expectations or tropes along the way. This was my introduction to the wonderful Hollinghurst, and I can’t wait for more.

True to the Earth: Pagan Political Theology by Kadmus. I think this book has implications beyond any special-interest niches. It contrasts our current widespread worldview of substance-based ontology and literate monotheism against high pagan/oral society’s event-based ontology. Kadmus explores the implications of this comparison on our experiences, relationship to religion, and politics. Anyone interested in pre-Platonic religion will obviously enjoy this, same with any philosophy heads, but I’d recommend True to the Earth for any reader who wants to try to see the world in a new way.

Lolly Willowes, or The Loving Huntsman by Sylvia Townsend Warner. Can’t believe I didn’t stumble upon this treasure earlier in my life. So much of what I love about cozy characters and comedies of manners is present in the first acts. It feels like the origin of many widely-beloved characters and plot lines; an independent spinsterish character, scoffing at society and longing for something darker and stranger, but caring for the mundane world in the meantime. The rush of fulfillment and wit at the end is a total delight. The final act has such a modern tone, I was pretty amazed that it was published in 1926.

Honorable mentions (sorry, it was a really good year for books!) go to: Open Heaven by Seán Hewitt, Victorian Psycho by Virginia Feito, The Incandescent by Emily Tesh, The Bewitching by Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Witchcraft for Wayward Girls by Grady Hendrix, The Village Library Demon-Hunting Society by C.M. Waggoner, The Savage, Noble Death of Babs Dionne by Ron Currie, Jr., Wild Dark Shore by Charlotte McConaghy, On the Beach by Nevil Shute, The Crystal Cave by Mary Stewart, The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt, and The Secret History by Donna Tartt.

All These Worlds by Dennis E. Taylor. The build up to the “final” (not final) book in the Bobiverse series delivers and gives us the standoff against The Others along with development of various planets and alien societies. The entire series centers around sentient von Neumann probes sent out to find inhabitable planets for humans. This is the main draw for me and it’s simply a fun adventure that is in the same vein as The Martian or Project Hail Mary.

The King’s Justice by E.M. Powell. I’m a sucker for historical murder mysteries, especially pre-renaissance settings. This one hits that genre perfectly. The mystery develops well and the characters were interesting enough to keep me interested. I didn’t like this as much as SJ Parris novels but it’s the start of a series so I’ll dive in and see how it develops.

This Is Your Brain on Music: The Science of a Human Obsession by Daniel J. Levitin.

What Makes It Great?: Short Masterpieces, Great Composers by Robert Kapilow.

Come record your own Top Five Books of 2025 on our December List of the Month, and join the discussion over in Talk.