1. The Skeptics’ Guide to the Universe: How to Know What’s Really Real in a World Increasingly Full of Fake by Dr. Steven Novella with Bob Novella, Cara Santa Maria, Jay Novella, and Evan Bernstein (started 12/30; finished 2/23): A-

There is only one inherent flaw in this book, which otherwise literally realigned the way I view the universe: at its start, Novella (et al) disucusses at length how unreliable our memories are. Reading that, I could not stop thinking of the irony of the dense material that followed those chapters that I was bound to forget. But, this is what I do remember: this is the book that, using incredibly well-structured logical arguments, finally convinced me that a) there really is nothing to acupuncture; b) naturopathy and homeopathy basically comes down to selling snake oil; c) the "mind over matter" element of "the placebo effect" was always a fantasy. Oh, and always research sources; never trust the results of studies unless they have proven to be reliably replicated; and literally nothing exists that is in any way supernatural. The book confirmed a whole lot of things I have long suspected, and in so doing brought with it a certain level of disappointment (the magic isn't just gone; it was never there). But that also makes it arguably the most practically useful book I have ever read, and I would sure be fascinated to see how any person of strict faith with an open enough mind to give this book a read would be affected by it.

2. Atlas of Cities edited by Paul Knox (started 3/31; finished 7/4): B

There's a multidude of reasons why it took me such an insanely long time -- just over three months -- to finish this book. The biggest reason was of practicality: 1" thick but 11" tall and 9" wide with a hard thick cover, it was the size and weight of many textbooks, obviously doubling in width when opening it. So, unlike virtually any other book I read, I could not easily read it while walking anywhere (such as home from work), and it was too cumbersome and heavy even to carry in my bag on the bus to work if I was expecting to walk home after. And because I have this terrible inability to pick up a book as often as I really should when I am at home because I am too easily distracted by social media or streaming platforms, regardless of how much I enjoy the book -- and I did actually enjoy this one -- it took me ages to get through it. I even renewed it twice the first time I checked it out of the library, then had to return it again, check it out again, and renew it twice again. And you know what? I'm glad I did! I learned a lot about world cities and how different types of them develop, my surprising favorite being the chapter on "The Imperial City" with Istanbul as its "Core City" focus. It has chapters on Rome and Athens as the world's first major cities before that, and then moved on to other types of cities as they developed through history: from "The Global City" (New York, London) to "The Instant City" (Brasilia) to "The Green City" (Freiburg) and several others besides. It actually is all quite interesting, if indeed even presented in a very texbook-like format. But it still worked for me, a perennial sucker for charts and graphs.

3. Stay Sexy & Don't Get Murdered: The Definitive How-To Guide by Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark (started 6/21; finished 7/11): B

Eagle-eyed readers will notice that I started this book 13 days before I finished Atlas of Cities -- which means that for about two weeks, I had a truly rare period in which I was actually reading two books at once. It also largely explains why it took me just over three weeks even to finish Stay Sexy & Don't Get Murdered, which I would otherwise have finished sooner. At least I managed to get this one back to the library only one day overdue, and indeed, for me, and particularly this year, getting a book read in three weeks is like breezing right through it. Which is to say, I enjoyed this book a lot. But then, I am a huge, longtime fan of the My Favorite Murder podcast, to which this book quite literally owes its existence. And therein lies the trick as to whether I think anyone else will enjoy it: are you a fan of the podcast? You should definitely read this book, which, even though it's technically categorized that way, is really a dual autobiohraphy disguised as "self-help." I'm not even particularly into true crime broadly speaking, but I love both Kilgariff and Hardstark as pop culture personalities, and this book offers a glimpse into how they got so interested in true crime, and then much more: how they met and developed their friendship; individual stories from their lives providing insight into how they became the women they are today; and yes, to a degree, how they both managed some level of self-actualization. I do think even people unfamiliar with the podcast would find it a fun read, but it's their already-existing core audience who will rightly devour it.

4. Mr. Know-It-All: The Tarnished Wisdom of a Filth Elder by John Waters (started 7/13; finished 8/10): B+

Another book with a pretty niche audience, this one will really only speak to those familiar with, and especially those entertained by, the truly warped worldview of director John Waters. His first several chapters here each focus on one of his movies and how they got made, starting from Hairspray through the rest of his film career, which basically ended 15 years ago. He then goes through many other aspects of his career and life since, with chapters focusing on anything from all the beyond-wild things fans have asked him to do and sign on his meet-and-greets (probably my favorite chapter), to his dream awful restaurant or his dream awful home architectural design, to even a chapter on a creepy lifelike toddler doll he keeps on display in one of his homes. John Waters is one man with a unique sensibility, and you're either into or or your not. As someone with a pretty warped sense of humor myself, I very much am.

5. Trains, Buses, People: An Opinionated Atlas of Transit by Christof Spieler (started 8/20; finished 9/4): B

Wait, two city-focused "atlas" books not just within the same year, but within the space of five months? Yep! And it happened only by chance, as in preparation for Shobhit's and my late-August weekend trip to Denver, I did the requisite pre-trip online research on the city's transit system. That was how I just happened upon this Denver StreetsBlog article with the moderately ominous headline, Denver’s Buses and Trains Are Not Useful to Most People. A New Book Shows Why. Well, Shobhit and I actually made pretty good use of Denver's buses as well as trains, as it happened, but the article still introduced me to this book via an interview with its author, and with my twin nerdy interests in both cities and in transit, I immediately placed a hold on it at the library.

So here's the ironic part, at least when comparing this book to Atlas of Cities, which took me far longer to finish. It took me more than three months to read Atlas of Cities and barely more than two weeks to finish "An Opinionated Atlas of Transit," and yet I gave them both the same grade of a solid B. Why? Well, Trains, Buses, People held far more interest to me from start to finish due to its far greater personal relevance, what with its focus on only my country and pretty detailed chapters on both the beloved city I live in (Seattle) and several cities I either also love or have visited either frequently or recently (New York, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Portland, Las Vegas, Denver). That alone does not make a book great, however, and I could only imagine recommending this to others who are just as nerdy as I am about such things.

Just as significant, though: Trains, Buses, People is kind of jaw-dropping in its poor copy editing, with multiple typos and printing mistakes on nearly every page. The book is massively informative, but that doesn't make these easily avoidable mistakes any less distracting. And there are some factual errors as a result of this bad copy editing, such as in the Seattle chapter when it says "on Third Avenue, transit runs only during rush hour." Uh ... no, it doesn't. What that was supposed to say was "Third Avenue is transit-only during rush hour." In short, this book was fascinating enough for me to devour it in less time than I read most books, but it's also sloppy.

6. Suicidal: Why We Kill Ourselves by Jesse Bering (started 9/6; finished 10/7): B+

So here's a fun one! And actually it's more fun than you might think -- I became a fan of Jesse Bering in 2014, having read two of his previous books that year alone, although both of those were of a more sexual interest in nature: Why Is the Penis Shaped Like That? ...and Other Reflections on Being Human (B+) and Perv: The Sexual Deviant in All of Us (B). I did like the former book better than the latter, but my interest in his writing piqued again when I saw that he had written this one, which takes a bit of a left turn in Bering's academic interests -- and, interestingly, discusses his own suicidal impulses at least partly informed by a lack of interest in his work by publishers due to the perceived prurient nature of his earlier stuff. Furthermore, it was clear from the start that this book was far more about empathy than about judgment, something I have felt is a far better approach to the issue of suicide for years. Once finished, I'd say it's even more about understanding than even empathy, as although it is very personal, it's based largely on scientific data -- which makes the subtitle Why We Kill Ourselves particularly important. Bering really doesn't offer any solution to suicide, necessarily, although there is plenty about different approaches being more effective than others about suicide prevention. It also ponders the question of "prevention" and its degree of necessity, just as it does the moralizing of suicide. I must say, I learned a lot more about myself reading this book than I realized -- as in, so much of being suicidal is predicated on circumstance, and how you are treated and perceived by both your loved ones and society at large. This book basically taught me that the idea that I don't give a shit what people think about me, based on research data, is largely a myth -- and that, had my life circumstances been radically different, and I were not surrounded by people who regularly validate my worth as a person, I could possibly have wound up just as depressed, and potentially suicidal, as the next suicidal depressive. This book really, in effect, underscored how grateful I am to have the privileges I have been afforded largely at random in my life. Also, surprisingly, it made me laugh out loud every few pages, even in the midst of some very sobering information -- because this writer has a dark sense of humor that speaks to me.

7. Dreyer’s English: An Utterly Correct Guide to Clarity and Style by Benjamin Dreyer (started 10/7; finished 10/26): A-

Here we get into a bit of an esoteric area for someone like me, an English major who has been a lover of writing since I was a preteen. We live in a time when fewer and fewer people regard grammar and punctiation as vital elements of intelligent discourse; publications across the board have shed most of their copy editors, and my own boss doesn't regard it as important even in work communication (which I find utterly embarrassing). For those of us who still believe in the power of proper writing, though—even if we also believe rules were made to be broken, though it's how and why they are broken that matters—it's lucky for us that Random House still employs Benjamin Dreyer as their Copy Chief, and that at least their publications are given professional copy editing treatment. I won't lie, it was kind of delicious to spot a copy editing mistake in a book by a copy editor about proper grammar and writing, but the inevitability of such mistakes in publishing is also part of the overall point. Also, Dreyer has a great sense of humor, and if any book's footnotes are absolutely worth reading in their entirety, it's this one. This book is far more entertaining than anyone might expect it to be, and I would enthusiastically recommend it to everyone, regardless of what they feel is their level of writing ability.

8. Seattle Walk Report: An Illustrated Guide Through 23 Seattle Neighborhoods by Susanna Ryan (started 10/26; finished 10/27): A

This book, an offshoot of the immensely popular local Instagram account Seattle Walk Report (its author being anonymous until this was published), is utterly delightful. Surely it is much more so for people, like me, who already live in, love, and enjoy exploring the City of Seattle, but its adorable pages are sure to lure in anyone who happens to look upon them. The drawing style is wonderful, and Susanna Ryan has a great, lighthearted sense of humor. Best of all, even after living in Seattle 21 years, this book informed me of several Seattle curiosities and landmarks I still did not know about, and has left me planning to find and observe them. It took me all of two days to finish this one, and any average person would finish it in an hour or two—it's not long. But every page offers countless details worthy of savoring.

9. Hollow Kingdom by Kira Jane Buxton (started 10/30; finished 11/18): A-

All my life I've had a soft spot for anthropomorphism in novels, with animal characters and/or animal narrators, and Hollow Kingdom is an especially great one, virtually impossible to put down and the funniest novel I have read in recent memory. The gags come fast and furious at the start and later taper off a bit; I must have laughed out loud at least once nearly every page for at least the first twenty pages. You do have to make room for story, though, and this is a truly intriguing one on multiple levels: it's the story of animals—both wild and domesticated (a key plot point)—surviving in a post-apocalyptic world; and it's also set in Seattle (my home city). The icing on the cake is that the narrator is an American Crow named Shit Turd (S.T. for short), and Kira Jane Buxton's writing demonstrates a deep knowledge of the animal, making for an utterly convincing and multi-dimensional character. The one thing that disappoints me slightly is that this "apocalypse," like far too many others, is a zombie one; and it certainly doesn't help that the revelation of what turned everyone into zombies is honestly so on-the-nose it's just dumb. I would have loved this story set in a world where some kind of apocalypse that was actually plausible happened, but, whatever. The decaying world that Buxton draws in intricate and vivid detail here more than makes up for it, as does how effortlessly she draws you into emotional involvement with her characters, as the truly hilarious S.T. guides his dog friend Dennis around this brave new world. It's so rare that I read a novel that makes me want to tell everyone I know "You've got to read this!" but this is one of them.

10. Beautiful on the Outside: A Memoir by Adam Rippon (started 11/23; finished 12/9): B+

I started this book feeling a little iffy about it, unsure if I would even finish it—turns out, Adam Rippon has a tenuous grasp of the difference between past and present tense, and I found it distracting at first. Curiously enough, it was because of Dreyer’s English that I grew to accept, if not necessarily appreciate, this quirk of Rippon’s writing style: I learned from Benjamin Dreyer just three books ago that copy editors often leave things like this retained in a writer’s prose as a means of preserving their voice. That’s clearly what’s happening in Adam Rippon’s memoir. And, you know what? As the book goes on, and he gets into his lifelong obsession with figure skating clear through medaling at the 2018 Winter Olympics at the age of 28 (very old for an Olympic athlete, mind you: the other two guys on the U.S. Olympic Team were all of 17 and 18), the narrative of his life gets much, much more interesting. He goes through many successes and failures in other world competitions for more than a decade leading up to it; he does cover a fair amount about coming out and what early relationships were like; and he doesn’t cover the Olympics specifically until the final couple of chapters. But, much like the Twitter feed that helped make him famous, Rippon proves to have a pretty great sense of humor as well as self-awareness, and in the end the book makes for a charming read.