I might be a professional writer or whatever, but for many years, I have felt deep shame over the fact that I don’t read enough books. It’s not that I hate books or anything. They’re fantastic! It’s just that in this terrible modern world, being able to focus on a book isn’t easy, especially because I could be watching a movie or a TV show or playing a video game or looking at my phone until I see something that makes me feel bad.

This year, I had more fun than ever devouring books. Part of this had to do with the fact that I spent the last several years reading on my phone, but I went back to paper in 2021, and let me tell ya, not looking at a screen is some really top notch shit. But moreover, I got myself to regularly read this year because I abandoned all notions about what I “should” be reading (the classics, the entries on “best of” lists) and instead, do whatever I want.

I also wasn’t afraid to put down a book if I was getting bored of it and start something new: I had to stop reading a book about the history of ISIS when I was maybe 80 percent through because it got too depressing; while I was enjoying One Hundred Years of Solitude, I kinda wish Marquez would’ve called it a day at 50; and I didn’t finish that biography of Saddam Hussein because as interested as I am in his ascent and demise, the book was way too dense. As it turns out, books are fun and great when you follow your own whims as a reader.

So let me tell you all about my favorite books of the year. I’d encourage you to read them too, but the whole thing I’m trying to convey to you is that when it comes to reading (or any media consumption, really), you should do whatever the hell you want to.

The Rise and Fall of Osama bin Laden by Peter Bergen (2021)

It’s obvious that Osama bin Laden was evil and murderous, but what often gets lost is how strange he was. Beyond 9/11 being horrible and tragic, there was no other terrorist attack like it. The Rise and Fall of Osama bin Laden delves into how he went from being the son of one of Saudi Arabia’s richest construction magnates (he had like fifty brothers and sisters) to the most notorious terrorist of all time. This isn’t the first Osama bin Laden book I’ve read, and it probably won’t be the last. I have infinite curiosity about how prolific evildoers get that way — I’ve also read biographies of Chairman Mao and Kim Jong-il. While it’s hard to really understand how a person could orchestrate the deaths of thousands, Peter Bergen’s bookdoes a good job of telling the story of how bin Laden became the bin Laden we all know and hate.

Libra by Don DeLillo (1988)

Libra is a fictionalized account of the life and death of Lee Harvey Oswald, and the story of the Kennedy assassination. In the book, (which, to reiterate, is fiction) a group of rogue CIA agents orchestrate the president’s murder. It is arguably DeLillo’s best book — I reread White Noise this year and it was not nearly as good as I remembered — and it really shines when focusing on the pathetic, strange existence of Oswald, how he went from becoming a communist to joining the marines, defecting to the USSR, un-defecting and moving back to the US, and then deciding to kill the president. Notice a pattern? Someone (not naming names) is kinda obsessed with enigmatic weirdo murderers.

Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut (1969)

She (me) loves fictionalized accounts, doesn’t she? Of course, you all probably know that Slaughterhouse-Five is a novel based on the Dresden firebombings and Vonnegut’s time as POW in World War II. I first read this book when I was a teenager and loved it, and I’m happy to report it is just as good, if not better, than I recalled. It’s beautifully written and honest and raw and weird and funny, and of every book on this list, I want you to read this one the most. (Or don’t! Up to you! Whatever!)

The Sirens of Titan by Kurt Vonnegut (1959)

I went on a serious Vonnegut kick this year, reading seven of his novels in a row, and found that The Sirens of Titan is Vonnegut’s best book after Slaughterhouse-Five. I don’t want to give too much away, since the pleasure of fiction has to do with finding out what happens next, but in no particular order, the book is about obscene wealth, teleportation, predestination, religion, the Martian invasion of Earth, friendship, murder, and German batball.

Nazi Literature in the Americas by Roberto Bolaño (1996)

Nazi Literature in the Americas is a darkly funny fictional encyclopedia of pan-American fascist writers. Each entry introduces the reader to a new and terrible Nazi writer, and explores the intersection between art and right-wing extremist ideology. But an excerpt from the book will convey its vibe much better than anything I tell you about it. From Bolaño’s biography of the imaginary Argentine poet and novelist Silvio Salvático (b. 1901, d. 1994):

As a young man, Salvático advocated, among other things, the re-establishment of the Inquisition; corporal punishment in public; a permanent war against the Chileans, the Paraguayans, or the Bolivians as a kind of gymnastics for the nation; polygamy; the extermination of the Indians to prevent further contamination of the Argentinean race; curtailing the rights of any citizen with Jewish blood; a massive influx of migrants from the Scandinavian countries in order to effect a progressive lightening of the national skin color; … life-long writers grants; the abolition of tax on artists’ incomes; the creation of the largest air force in South America; [and] the colonization of Antarctica.

Concrete Island by J.G. Ballard (1974)

J.G. Ballard, probably most famous for his 1973 book Crash, about people who share a fetish for automobile accidents, is one of my favorite writers of all time because the premises of his novels and short stories are so fucking weird and always reveal something interesting about the perils of modern life. Concrete Island tells the story of a well-to-do architect who finds himself stranded in a median strip between several high speed motorways after getting into a car accident. It is a survivalist novel wherein the protagonist isn’t actually cut off from civilization, but is nevertheless unable to escape from his circumstances, first because of his injuries, and later, because he doesn’t really want to.

The Breaks of the Game by David Halberstam (1981)

On a totally different note, I also read a bunch of sports books. 2021 was the year I became totally, unrelentingly obsessed with basketball, so The Breaks of the Game, which chronicles the history of the NBA and the highs and lows of the Portland Trail Blazers’ 1979–1980 season was ideal reading. The Blazers won the championship in 1977, but only a few years later, they lost their star player Bill Walton, were in the midst of a tense salary dispute with their other best player Maurice Lucas, and found themselves in decline. The world of professional sports is extraordinary and crazy and being a part of it is totally alien to me. The Breaks of the Game gives you a behind the scenes view of how it all really works.

Moneyball by Michael Lewis (2003)

A classic. Much like The Breaks of the Game, Moneyball reveals a side of professional sports most people are totally unfamiliar with. It tells the story of the Oakland A’s general manager Billy Beane, who drafted players based on sabermetrics as opposed to relying on scouts. The book goes into the history of baseball statistics and analytics, and manages to make that all highly engaging.

Into Thin Air by John Krakauer (1997)

Another classic! In 1996, journalist and amateur mountain climber John Krakauer went on a Mount Everest expedition for Outside Magazine. By the end of his journey, eight people were dead, thanks to severe weather conditions and mismanagement from the tour organizers, among other things. Into Thin Air gives the reader a glimpse into the extreme culture of mountain climbing, and shows what happens when it all goes very wrong.