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Top 2025
This is my order, yours may; likely will be, different!
- Starry Starry Night - Shani Mootoo
- Is This A Cry For Help - Emily Austin
- We Could Be Rats - Emily Austin
- Olive Kitteridge - Elizabeth Strout
- Before We Forget Kindness - Toshikazu Kawaguchi
- Soundtrack - Michael V. Smith
- The Loom - Andy Weaver
- How I Bend Into More - Tea Gerbeza
- Before Your Memory Fades - Toshikazu Kawaguchi*
- Crumb - Dan Nadel
- Vantage Points- Chase Joynt
- Welcome to the Hyunam-Dong Bookshop - Hwang Bo-Reum
- Character Limit - Kate Conger + Ryan Mac
- Precarious - Marcello Di Cintio
- The Fun Time Brigade - Lindsay Zier-Vogel*
- Sugaring Off - Fanny Britt
- The Widow's Guide to Dead Bastards - Jessica Waite
- Back Where I Came From - Taslim Jaffer
- You Crushed It - Jean-Philippe Baril Guérard*
- Daikon - Samuel Hawley*
- Property - Kate Caley*
- Sticky, Sexy, Sad - Trenna Orchard
- Elseship - Tree Abraham
- Punished - Ann-Helén Laestadius*
- Common Sense Economics - (James D. Gwartney, Dwight R. Lee, Tawni Hunt Ferrani, Joseph P. Calhoun, and Jane Shaw Stroup.)
BLUE = MEMOIR OR BIOGRAPHICAL
BLACK = FICTION
DARK RED = EDUCATIONAL + Historical Fiction
PURPLE = ESSAY OR STORIES
ORANGE = POETRY
BLACK = FICTION
DARK RED = EDUCATIONAL + Historical Fiction
PURPLE = ESSAY OR STORIES
ORANGE = POETRY
Books Read in 2025
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A Book for Those Born Into Silence
How did the book make me feel/think?
Starry Starry Night by Shani Mootoo was the last book I read this year—and it rose straight to the top.
We follow Anju from ages four to twelve. From the beginning, she is an outsider in her life. The adults around her hide—convinced they themselves are not broken. In doing so, they scar her. Anju floats above the page, placed on a different plane by secrecy and silence.
She is curious, fearless, and unfiltered. When parts of your own story are withheld, you are left with intelligence, imagination, and doubt. You see what others miss. You question everything. You learn pain early. You look for belonging by inventing it.
This made the book profoundly personal for me. I was born into secrecy, and I recognized Anju immediately—not as a symbol, but as a state of being.
Mootoo’s prose is gorgeous; it sings. But its power lies in what it doesn’t explain. If you understand the ending of Starry Starry Night, it’s telling you something devastating and straightforward: you are not alone.
I once heard a young girl being pre-emptively scolded by her mother, “If you misbehave, I will embarrass you in front of all of these people.
The girl looked up and said, “I don’t know any of these people.”
That is Anju—living in the shadows of her own life, already several chapters ahead of the adults who think they’re leading her.
WRITTEN: 30 December 2025
How did the book make me feel/think?
Starry Starry Night by Shani Mootoo was the last book I read this year—and it rose straight to the top.
We follow Anju from ages four to twelve. From the beginning, she is an outsider in her life. The adults around her hide—convinced they themselves are not broken. In doing so, they scar her. Anju floats above the page, placed on a different plane by secrecy and silence.
She is curious, fearless, and unfiltered. When parts of your own story are withheld, you are left with intelligence, imagination, and doubt. You see what others miss. You question everything. You learn pain early. You look for belonging by inventing it.
This made the book profoundly personal for me. I was born into secrecy, and I recognized Anju immediately—not as a symbol, but as a state of being.
Mootoo’s prose is gorgeous; it sings. But its power lies in what it doesn’t explain. If you understand the ending of Starry Starry Night, it’s telling you something devastating and straightforward: you are not alone.
I once heard a young girl being pre-emptively scolded by her mother, “If you misbehave, I will embarrass you in front of all of these people.
The girl looked up and said, “I don’t know any of these people.”
That is Anju—living in the shadows of her own life, already several chapters ahead of the adults who think they’re leading her.
WRITTEN: 30 December 2025
I Thought I Was Outside This Story
How did the book make me feel/think?
Precarious made me sad—not for anything I’ve done directly, but for being unknowingly part of something I believed I stood outside of.
I grew up thinking Canadians were better than this. Kinder. Fairer. Less exploitative. We’re not. We’re as flawed and compromised as the corporate systems we benefit from. We’ve traded our souls for lower prices and told ourselves comforting stories about who we are.
I always sensed this. I always knew the idea of Canada as a “white nation” was a lie we refuse to interrogate—and that every Canadian has a responsibility to break that conditioning. Most don’t. It’s easier to believe the advantage is deserved than to accept it’s inherited through systemic rot.
I’ve spent my life trying to evolve. I’ve lived a hard life, but I also understand I’ve been granted advantages others were denied. Precarious reopened my eyes to why that awareness can’t stop—it has to deepen, even when it’s uncomfortable.
Racism is everywhere if you listen. “They’re taking our jobs.” Casual slurs. Lazy ignorance layered over dependence. The foreign workers people mock are the same ones keeping food affordable, doing work others won’t, while being denied safety, privacy, medical care, and justice.
This book shows how foreign workers are trapped—economically, legally, emotionally—inside a country that wants their labour but not their presence. What struck me most wasn’t just the exploitation, but the loneliness of being invisible in a place that prides itself on being welcoming.
I’m 65, recently fired by a giant corporation for nothing I did. That experience taught me how vulnerability and lack of options can hollow a person out. Different circumstances—but the same machinery.
Precarious is essential reading. Because most people, everywhere, want the same things: love, health, dignity, and a chance at happiness. We can’t pretend not to know that anymore.
WRITTEN: 25 December 2025
How did the book make me feel/think?
Precarious made me sad—not for anything I’ve done directly, but for being unknowingly part of something I believed I stood outside of.
I grew up thinking Canadians were better than this. Kinder. Fairer. Less exploitative. We’re not. We’re as flawed and compromised as the corporate systems we benefit from. We’ve traded our souls for lower prices and told ourselves comforting stories about who we are.
I always sensed this. I always knew the idea of Canada as a “white nation” was a lie we refuse to interrogate—and that every Canadian has a responsibility to break that conditioning. Most don’t. It’s easier to believe the advantage is deserved than to accept it’s inherited through systemic rot.
I’ve spent my life trying to evolve. I’ve lived a hard life, but I also understand I’ve been granted advantages others were denied. Precarious reopened my eyes to why that awareness can’t stop—it has to deepen, even when it’s uncomfortable.
Racism is everywhere if you listen. “They’re taking our jobs.” Casual slurs. Lazy ignorance layered over dependence. The foreign workers people mock are the same ones keeping food affordable, doing work others won’t, while being denied safety, privacy, medical care, and justice.
This book shows how foreign workers are trapped—economically, legally, emotionally—inside a country that wants their labour but not their presence. What struck me most wasn’t just the exploitation, but the loneliness of being invisible in a place that prides itself on being welcoming.
I’m 65, recently fired by a giant corporation for nothing I did. That experience taught me how vulnerability and lack of options can hollow a person out. Different circumstances—but the same machinery.
Precarious is essential reading. Because most people, everywhere, want the same things: love, health, dignity, and a chance at happiness. We can’t pretend not to know that anymore.
WRITTEN: 25 December 2025
Emily Austin doesn’t soften the darkness — she lets it breathe.
How did the book make me feel/think?
I think Emily Austin and I come from different planets, with minimal overlap.
Emily is…
I am…
Enough about me.
These are my thoughts on her writing.
Accessible is a lazy description.
My cat Hana is purring beside me. She has cauliflower ear, like wrestlers get.
Enough about Hana.
Emily doesn’t shy away from controversial storytelling — the darkness of depression.
Comedy comes from pain.
I fall out of my chair, rolling in guttural laughter, reading about insomnia.
I shouldn’t be laughing.
We need to laugh.
Her storytelling is sprawling — not indulgent, but necessary.
A survival tactic.
I connect.
Thoughts flash like bursts of lightning.
I feel as if I’m in conversation with a dear friend.
As the pages wind down, I become solemn.
This book doesn’t soften pain—it transforms it. Emily Austin’s writing is darkly funny, emotionally expansive, and deeply human. By the end, I wanted another book, another conversation, and another chance to sit with this voice.
WRITTEN: 20 December 2025
How did the book make me feel/think?
I think Emily Austin and I come from different planets, with minimal overlap.
Emily is…
I am…
Enough about me.
These are my thoughts on her writing.
Accessible is a lazy description.
My cat Hana is purring beside me. She has cauliflower ear, like wrestlers get.
Enough about Hana.
Emily doesn’t shy away from controversial storytelling — the darkness of depression.
Comedy comes from pain.
I fall out of my chair, rolling in guttural laughter, reading about insomnia.
I shouldn’t be laughing.
We need to laugh.
Her storytelling is sprawling — not indulgent, but necessary.
A survival tactic.
I connect.
Thoughts flash like bursts of lightning.
I feel as if I’m in conversation with a dear friend.
As the pages wind down, I become solemn.
This book doesn’t soften pain—it transforms it. Emily Austin’s writing is darkly funny, emotionally expansive, and deeply human. By the end, I wanted another book, another conversation, and another chance to sit with this voice.
WRITTEN: 20 December 2025
Life Is a Soundtrack
How did the book make me feel/think?
Bear with me for a moment.
When Gail dumped me, I made a video of myself reciting a love poem to Extreme’s “More Than Words.”
Too much information?
Probably.
Life is a soundtrack. The milestones—the darts from life that stick—are often pierced by music.
Life. Death. Romance. Family. Heartache.
Michael may be a queer writer—I’m sure he’d like me to remove the “may” from that sentence—but his writing crosses boundaries. It’s visceral. Important. It speaks volumes about what it’s like to live in a world full of labels, and how hard life is to navigate when so many people are trapped inside a forced narrative of what is bleeping normal.
Michael may be a poet; his words transcend genre. They sing off the pages, connecting us and shedding light on what it means to be human in a world where most people judge—often without understanding the plight of others—those of us who want the same thing: love, happiness, and a song to dance to.
Michael V. Smith is one of my favourite authors, offering vision through lyrical prose.
WRITTEN: 14 December 2025
How did the book make me feel/think?
Bear with me for a moment.
When Gail dumped me, I made a video of myself reciting a love poem to Extreme’s “More Than Words.”
Too much information?
Probably.
Life is a soundtrack. The milestones—the darts from life that stick—are often pierced by music.
Life. Death. Romance. Family. Heartache.
Michael may be a queer writer—I’m sure he’d like me to remove the “may” from that sentence—but his writing crosses boundaries. It’s visceral. Important. It speaks volumes about what it’s like to live in a world full of labels, and how hard life is to navigate when so many people are trapped inside a forced narrative of what is bleeping normal.
Michael may be a poet; his words transcend genre. They sing off the pages, connecting us and shedding light on what it means to be human in a world where most people judge—often without understanding the plight of others—those of us who want the same thing: love, happiness, and a song to dance to.
Michael V. Smith is one of my favourite authors, offering vision through lyrical prose.
WRITTEN: 14 December 2025
A Spine, A Curve, A Line
How did the book make me feel/think?
Powerful: not enough.
Heart-wrenching: closer.
Transcendent: warm.
A heart bleeds onto the page, a body in flux—curvature—unrelenting pain—courage—vulnerability. A spine made visible before it is explained: dots descending the page like vertebrae under pressure.
The spine of the book consists of dots floating down the page.
Life happens. Hardship. War. Escape.
Page by page, the curve approaches a straight line—escape from oppression—a family’s journey through darkness. The line goes horizontal in a terrifying moment: a family holding on with every ounce of courage and love.
Sparked back to life, the line stretches upward vertically. The pain, although never gone, becomes manageable. It is not for me to decide. We never know what someone else is going through in a world where we jump to judgment.
A person walks by with a limp. We judge. Sometimes we laugh at our good fortune.
Calling a book beautiful when the subject is about an arduous struggle gives pause.
But How I Bend Into More is beautiful because every reader, regardless of life events, will feel seen on the pages as Tea Gerbeza battles to become whole.
WRITTEN: 14 December 2025
How did the book make me feel/think?
Powerful: not enough.
Heart-wrenching: closer.
Transcendent: warm.
A heart bleeds onto the page, a body in flux—curvature—unrelenting pain—courage—vulnerability. A spine made visible before it is explained: dots descending the page like vertebrae under pressure.
The spine of the book consists of dots floating down the page.
Life happens. Hardship. War. Escape.
Page by page, the curve approaches a straight line—escape from oppression—a family’s journey through darkness. The line goes horizontal in a terrifying moment: a family holding on with every ounce of courage and love.
Sparked back to life, the line stretches upward vertically. The pain, although never gone, becomes manageable. It is not for me to decide. We never know what someone else is going through in a world where we jump to judgment.
A person walks by with a limp. We judge. Sometimes we laugh at our good fortune.
Calling a book beautiful when the subject is about an arduous struggle gives pause.
But How I Bend Into More is beautiful because every reader, regardless of life events, will feel seen on the pages as Tea Gerbeza battles to become whole.
WRITTEN: 14 December 2025
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Can We Ever Really Go Home?
How did the book make me feel/think?
Jaffer gathers powerful voices to ask if home is a place, a feeling, or a question we’ll never quite answer.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
How did the book make me feel/think?
Jaffer gathers powerful voices to ask if home is a place, a feeling, or a question we’ll never quite answer.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
Swipe Culture and the Ache of Modern Love
How did the book make me feel/think?
This biting look at online dating nails the strange loneliness of a world where swipes replace connection.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
How did the book make me feel/think?
This biting look at online dating nails the strange loneliness of a world where swipes replace connection.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
Love as Question, Not Answer
How did the book make me feel/think?
Elseship is a beautiful, disorienting love experiment that made me question whether I know what love is.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
How did the book make me feel/think?
Elseship is a beautiful, disorienting love experiment that made me question whether I know what love is.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
Economics with All the Joy of Reading Wallpaper Paste
How did the book make me feel/think?
If the goal was to make economics feel cold, clinical, and quietly terrifying, mission accomplished.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
How did the book make me feel/think?
If the goal was to make economics feel cold, clinical, and quietly terrifying, mission accomplished.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
39
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Depression with a Side of Dark Wit and Truth
How did the book make me feel/think?
Austin’s fearless look at depression, wrapped in dry humour and raw vulnerability, floored me. At the same time, I “laughed out loud” and then wondered if it was okay to be laughing—easily a top read of the year.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
How did the book make me feel/think?
Austin’s fearless look at depression, wrapped in dry humour and raw vulnerability, floored me. At the same time, I “laughed out loud” and then wondered if it was okay to be laughing—easily a top read of the year.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
A Masterclass in Human Flaws, Kindness, and Carrying On
How did the book make me feel/think?
Strout gifts us Olive—a gruff, plump, aging woman whose raw honesty and quiet kindness make us think that maybe we’re all just trying to survive love, loss, and the absurdity of being human.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
How did the book make me feel/think?
Strout gifts us Olive—a gruff, plump, aging woman whose raw honesty and quiet kindness make us think that maybe we’re all just trying to survive love, loss, and the absurdity of being human.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
Hope, Truth, and the Brightness Beyond Gloom
How did the book make me feel/think?
Kawaguchi’s stories pull me back from the ledge, reminding me that truth is slippery, perception is fragile, and hope might still win.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
How did the book make me feel/think?
Kawaguchi’s stories pull me back from the ledge, reminding me that truth is slippery, perception is fragile, and hope might still win.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
Poetry That Breathes Love into the Ordinary
How did the book make me feel/think?
A gorgeous, heartfelt collection that feels like a love letter to family and the poetry of being present.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
How did the book make me feel/think?
A gorgeous, heartfelt collection that feels like a love letter to family and the poetry of being present.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
The Genius and Grotesque of Robert Crumb
How did the book make me feel/think?
Crumb captures a complicated genius who saw through the bullshit and gifted us decades of raw, disturbing, unforgettable art and insights.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
How did the book make me feel/think?
Crumb captures a complicated genius who saw through the bullshit and gifted us decades of raw, disturbing, unforgettable art and insights.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
Truth Through a Kaleidoscope Lens
How did the book make me feel/think?
A daring, genre-defying exploration of identity, truth, and the politics of storytelling in a world addicted to fear.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
How did the book make me feel/think?
A daring, genre-defying exploration of identity, truth, and the politics of storytelling in a world addicted to fear.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
A Quiet, Soulful Wake-Up Call
How did the book make me feel/think?
A quiet, soul-shifting book that left me wondering if I’ve been thinking about life all wrong.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
How did the book make me feel/think?
A quiet, soul-shifting book that left me wondering if I’ve been thinking about life all wrong.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
Elon Unmasked: Power, Greed, and the Illusion of Genius
How did the book make me feel/think?
Kate and Ryan crack open the myth of Elon to reveal a hollow man driven by ego and wealth, leaving me briefly sympathetic, then disgusted again.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
How did the book make me feel/think?
Kate and Ryan crack open the myth of Elon to reveal a hollow man driven by ego and wealth, leaving me briefly sympathetic, then disgusted again.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
Cracks in the Veneer of Privilege
How did the book make me feel/think?
Britt uses one accident to peel back the rot of entitlement and exposes how deeply unequal the illusion of belonging is.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
How did the book make me feel/think?
Britt uses one accident to peel back the rot of entitlement and exposes how deeply unequal the illusion of belonging is.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
Grief, Secrets, and the Comedy of Survival
How did the book make me feel/think?
What happens when lives are taken from us far too soon, leaving baggage for us to unpack or eviscerate, as we navigate our emotional and financial survival, is that there is comedy in the pain. Are we capable of forgiveness? Does it matter?
Waite turns grief, betrayal, and absurdity into a razor-sharp, darkly funny survival guide for the broken-hearted.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
How did the book make me feel/think?
What happens when lives are taken from us far too soon, leaving baggage for us to unpack or eviscerate, as we navigate our emotional and financial survival, is that there is comedy in the pain. Are we capable of forgiveness? Does it matter?
Waite turns grief, betrayal, and absurdity into a razor-sharp, darkly funny survival guide for the broken-hearted.
WRITTEN: 5 May 2025
