A Year in Books: My Most Memorable Reads of 2024

Back in the day, when I used to write actual articles for my blog, I ended the year with a reading roundup. After a hiatus of a few years in which I often thought “You know, I really should do that again,” I am finally exchanging my guilt for action. If you are wondering what to add to your TBR for 2025, here are some of my most memorable reads of the year.

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Best Reread

Although I remember a battered paperback copy of The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster floating around my home when I was a child, I only ever watched the movie until the semester I student taught, at which point I hastily read the novel in order to ensure that a gaggle of 8th graders derived some level of education from the story. I thoroughly enjoyed the experience but did not return to the book until I got a great deal on a beautiful annotated special edition and decided to sit down and enjoy it again.

This 1961 children’s classic begins with perhaps the best piece of characterization in all of literature:

There was once a boy named Milo who didn't know what to do with himself -- not just sometimes, but always. When he was in school he longed to be out, and when he was out he longed to be in. On the way he thought about coming home, and coming home he thought about going. Wherever he was he wished he were somewhere else, and when he got there he wondered why he'd bothered. Nothing really interested him -- least of all the things that should have. "It seems to me that almost everything is a waste of time," he remarked one day as he walked dejectedly home from school. "I can't see the point in learning to solve useless problems, or subtracting turnips from turnips, or knowing where Ethiopia is or how to spell February." And, since no one bothered to explain otherwise, he regarded the process of seeking knowledge as the greatest waste of time of all.

Upon re-reading this passage, I realized that I know many Milos—they are my students. And, like Milo, they are capable of embarking on a fantastic journey toward true wisdom, which consists not in the gathering of facts but in the applying of knowledge toward virtuous ends. Although this book is nearly 65 years old, its protagonist could easily be a 21st century iPad kid, and watching him mature over the course of his hero’s journey through the Kingdom of Wisdom is hopeful and delightful. Everybody over the age of 10 should read this book at least once.

Most Encouraging

Though I had never read any of this author’s work before, when I saw the title Now and Not Yet by Ruth Chou Simons, I knew I needed to not only read the book but also join the launch team. Ruth invested in the launch team in a way I have never before seen during a book launch, and it was such a sweet experience to read the book and be involved with getting it out into the world. The book addresses the experience of not being where you want to be in life (or, conversely, being where you don’t want to be). Ruth’s gentle exhortations are deeply scriptural, not platitudinal. She doesn’t make false promises about coming breakthroughs or imminent deliverance. She simply encourages readers to trust God’s character and cooperate with His purposes of sanctification through each season of our lives. If life feels less than ideal for you right now, no matter the reason, you would benefit from this book.

Most Gripping Historical Fiction

Ruta Sepetys has a knack for making obscure moments in 20th century history not just understandable, but fascinating, and she's done it again in The Fountains of Silence. Set in fascist Spain during the 1950s, this historical fiction novel depicts a romance between a Spanish girl and an American boy with Spanish heritage. The setting and characters are gorgeously drawn, and the plot is masterful.

Favorite Book Club Read

This novelization of Shakespeare’s marriage to Anne Hathaway takes on the difficult task of honoring a famous and beloved professional life while also fleshing out a sketchy (both in terms of historical detail and in terms of integrity) personal life. Cleverly, Hamnet by Maggie O’Farrell focuses on Anne’s perspective, never even referring to Shakespeare by name, as she weaves together the family’s origin and its defining tragedy: the loss of the Shakespeares’ only son. Even though I knew what was coming, I positively wept reading this book. What a beautiful portrait of marriage, grief, and family.

Craziest Memoir

If my spouse cheated on me twice (or at all, really), I simply would not write a book about it, much less such a good book as How to Stay Married: The Most Insane Love Story Ever Told by Harrison Scott Key. To a) go through that awful experience and then b) write a book about it which is c) not just insightful but also actually funny is a true feat. Key’s marriage does not represent the typical marriage, but it does represent the grace, repentance, and commitment that are necessary for a good marriage, making it a worthwhile read.

Biggest Heap of Flaming Garbage

Given that the author is such a darling of the intellectual morass that is Bookstagram/BookTok, I did not have high hopes for Verity by Colleen Hoover. Its opening scene features a fatal hit-and-run that is then leveraged into a meet-cute between the protagonist and the love interest (whose eyes are chartreuse to match his tie), and it only gets worse from there. It was so bad that I literally took notes on all the terrible, ridiculous things these characters say and do over the course of the absurdly contrived plot.

If I could make one reading resolution on behalf of the Internet, it would be this: in 2025, we have to stop pretending books are good just because the plot holds a reader’s interest the entire time, ends with an unexpected twist, or contains graphic and improbable sex scenes. Colleen Hoover cannot write her way out of a paper bag, and if this is one of her best books, I’d hate to spend even one moment of the coming year on the others.