The Best Books I Read in 2016...

2016 might have been a year of loss and significant upheaval for our country, but I'll admit, it was one hell of a year for me as far as reading was concerned. I read 161 books in 2016—the most I've ever read (or at least since college, when I managed a bookstore and was able to read most of the day). This high total was the fringe benefit of a year of significant travel, downtime during a blizzard (and subsequent case of severe bronchitis), and most of all, some pretty amazing books.

As I've done for the last seven years or so, I went back through all of the books I've read and come up with a list of my favorites. Culling 161 books down was really, really difficult, so what I've done is come up with a list of 25, along with an additional 11 which just fell short of the very best but they're too good to miss.

I've linked to my original review of each so you can read more about each one. I'd love to hear your thoughts, and know which books you'd count among your favorites, even if you didn't read as much as I did! I'll list my top five (in random order) and then the remainder of the books will be in random order as well—ranking would be far too complicated!!

The Best of the Best

Dark Matter by Blake Crouch: What a ride this book took me on! This is an absolutely fascinating story of a man who wakes up to find out that the life he knew didn't exist, no matter how vivid his memories were. But which life is the dream, the one he is in now, or the one he remembers? Can he ever make it back to what he remembered, and if not, what will happen to him? Suspend your disbelief and get ready for your heart to start beating pretty fast. Read my original review.

We Are the Ants by Shaun David Hutchinson: This one was brutal and absolutely beautiful, and it absolutely blew me away. For the last few years, aliens have periodically abducted Henry Denton. The aliens have given Henry an ultimatum: Earth will be destroyed in 144 days, unless Henry makes the decision to save the world. All he has to do is push a button. But does Henry want to save the world? He has to decide whether humanity is worth saving or if letting the world end would also end his own emotional anguish. This is such an inventive, moving, beautiful book I won't soon forget it. Read my original review.

What Belongs to You by Garth Greenwell: Greenwell's debut novel is stunning, emotional, lyrical, and it quietly grabs you and doesn't let go. It is a novel about desire, and the desire to be wanted. It's about the struggle between following your heart and your libido instead of your head, and both the consequences and triumphs that come from doing so. Greenwell's talent is evident from the very first lines of this book, and his poetic use of language and storytelling ability sustains through the book's entirety. Read my original review.

When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi: Paul Kalanithi was an excellent neurosurgeon. At the age of 36, Paul was diagnosed with Stage IV lung cancer. Suddenly his life has transformed him from doctor to patient. This is both a reflection on coming face-to-face with one's own mortality and a commentary on the responsibility doctors have to help their patients and their families through that same reflection, whether it happens with some warning or suddenly. Easily one of the finest books I've read in some time. Read my original review.

Orphan X by Gregg Hurwitz: Holy freaking crap. This book absolutely rocked—every heart-racing, pulse-pounding second! When Evan Smoak (not his real name) was young, a man rescued him from a troubled life and he trained Evan how to kill. When he got older he became the Nowhere Man, the last resort for a person in desperate trouble. No one knows who the Nowhere Man is, but they know if they call him, he will help rescue them from a seemingly helpless situation. This book hit all of the right notes for me—fantastic action, more than a few twists, some excellent character development, and some pretty cool gadgetry. Read my original review.

Book Review: "Cat Incarcerated" by Noah Nichols

If you're looking for a quirky, slightly zany, sarcastic, and good-natured book to read, look no further than Noah Nichols' Cat Incarcerated. It's a unique story (I haven't seen a book with this plot before), and Nichols' storytelling is very engaging.

Cade A. Tanner is the first to admit he was a fairly miserable person when he was drunk, which was pretty much always. He drove his wife Stephanie away, and found himself alone, with not much more than the food from his favorite Chinese restaurant to keep him company. But somewhere down the line he found the strength to kick his addiction, and started seeing the beauty of life without alcohol.

Then the unthinkable happens: Cade sees an adorable kitten in the middle of the street, practically playing in traffic. The man that Cade has become absolutely can't let the kitten (especially one so cute) meet its maker while he watches, so he rushes out to rescue it, and he is immediately struck and killed by a texting-and-driving teenager. The irony.

Then the even-more-unthinkable happens: Cade wakes up to find he has been reincarnated as, of all things, a kitten. (An even cuter one than the one he rescued, but that's neither here nor there.) As he struggles with where to find shelter and food, not to mention reconcile the fact that he is now a cat ("Will I have to lower my standards and start going to the bathroom...in a litter box?"), he finds even more surprises along the way, because he is ultimately rescued by his ex-wife. And she has become a barely functioning alcoholic.

The book gets a little zanier from there, but it never loses its sense of humor or its heart. Cade (to whom Stephanie has given the name Ethan) raises some interesting existential questions that only a cat who was once a man can ponder:

What if...what if there are multiple poor souls out there who're just like me? A man, a woman, a child, of whatever age or background, inexplicably stuck inside the bodies of cats or dogs or bears or angry badgers (hey, maybe that's why they always look so pissed off for no reason!), or any animal for that matter. What if there's actually a deeper meaning to all of this? Something that's bigger than individuality, a type of extraordinary thing that's meant to overcome with a group of misfits. Something that's meant to teach an incredible lesson as a whole.

Sometimes the book gets a little too witty and, at times, corny, for its own good. A few times I waited for the rimshot to follow some of the jokes (and I won't even try to CATalogue the cat puns). But at its heart, the story is fun and unique, and it made me smile, as I waited to see what Nichols had up his sleeve next. You'll need to suspend your disbelief, of course; if you're one of those people who can't accept the idea of a man being reincarnated as a cat, this isn't a book for you.

The author provided me a complimentary copy of the book in exchange for an unbiased review. Thanks, Noah, for making this available, and for providing some great amusement and smiles!

Book Review: "The Princess Diarist" by Carrie Fisher

"I had never been Princess Leia before and now I would be her forever. I would never not be Princess Leia. I had no idea how profoundly true that was and how long forever was."

I've got to tell you, it was really weird reading this book given the fact that both Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds died this week. There were more than a few times in this book where Fisher made reference to her obituary, her eulogy, or her mother, all of which made me even sadder than I already was.

That being said, I've always been a fan of Fisher's writing, starting with Postcards from the Edge, and I love her sense of humor and her sarcastic, somewhat off-kilter view of everything. The Princess Diarist looks at her journey from her first movie role in Shampoo in 1975, to auditioning for the role of Princess Leia in Star Wars, to the effect that part has had on her entire life. But more than that, this book reveals (although it wasn't a secret once she started doing publicity for the book) information about her affair with Harrison Ford, her older, married costar, while filming Star Wars.

"From celebration to intoxication to assignation to infatuation to imitation to indignation—this was my trimester of the affair that was Carrison." (Carrison was the nickname she assigned to their relationship, much as the way the media creates nicknames for celebrity couples.)

Her recounting of the way the affair ran its course, the way they tried to keep emotions out of it, but the way Fisher really felt about Ford was both touching and humorous. She relied on her usual self-deprecation, but you could see she used it in this case as a defense mechanism, to protect herself from investing and expecting more than she was going to get. It's not an entirely flattering portrait of Ford, although you can tell how deep her feelings for him ran.

Apparently the genesis of this book was when Fisher found the diaries she kept during the filming of Star Wars. So after she told the story of "Carrison," the book then included her diary entries from that period. Most entries are somewhat oblique, not referring to Harrison directly, but it's clear to see how emotionally vulnerable she let herself get with him, and how the casual nature of their relationship hurt her. The entries include love poems, song lyrics, and reflections.

From her diary: "If anyone reads this when I have passed to the big bad beyond, I shall be posthumorously embarrassed. I shall spend my entire afterlife blushing."

If you're looking for scoop on the making of Star Wars beyond the genesis of her infamous hairstyle, you'll be disappointed. This book goes from her getting her role to her relationship with Ford to the aftermath of the movie and what former stars do to make some extra money. The journal entries take up a significant portion of the book, and because they're reasonably oblique, they're not as interesting as I had hoped.

I thought this book was interesting, but it was much more compelling when Fisher injected humor into her writing, as I feel that is where she always excelled. Her reflections on "Carrison" were touching; I can only imagine what it was like for Fisher to have had a relationship at a young age with a costar, a costar to whom she has always been inextricably linked. The book drags on a bit, but Fisher's writing is enjoyable to read.

Fisher left a rich legacy of work, both in film and writing. Her loss is tremendously sad, but we are lucky she shared so much of herself with us, and it is somewhat fitting that, as she thought, she lived her life as Princess Leia, and died while promoting a book about what it was like to live down that legacy.

Book Review: "The Female of the Species" by Mindy McGinnis

"This is how I kill someone. I learn his habits, I know his schedule. It is not difficult. His life consists of quick stops to the dollar store for the bare minimum of things required to keep this ragged cycle going, his hat pulled down over his eyes so as not to be recognized. But he is. It's a small town."

Alex Craft's life was turned upside down three years earlier when her older sister Anna was murdered. The killer was exonerated, but it was clear to nearly everyone in their small town that he was guilty. Alex takes matters into her own hands, and the killer was found brutally tortured and murdered. But no one seems particularly broken up about it, and if anyone suspects Alex, their suspicions go nowhere.

As she goes through high school, she keeps to herself. She's known as the girl with the murdered sister, and she keeps herself occupied by reading and running. She doesn't mind her lonely existence—the fact is, she doesn't really trust herself around other people, because if she finds someone who raises her anger for a serious crime, she might act again in the way she did with her sister's killer. She doesn't have a problem with that, honestly, but she knows others will.

"I'm not fine, and I doubt I ever will be. The books didn't help me find a word for myself; my father refused to accept the weight of it. And so I made my own. I am vengeance."

While Alex steels herself for another situation that might provoke her instincts, she is utterly unprepared for connecting with other people, and senior year brings two intense connections—Peekay, the slightly rebellious preacher's daughter, who befriends Alex when they volunteer at an animal shelter, and Jack, the school's top athlete and biggest playboy, who is drawn to Alex in ways even he can't understand, and to the distinct satisfaction of his longtime friend-with-benefits, star cheerleader (and most beautiful girl in school), Branley.

Peekay awakens Alex's protective nature (and causes her to step outside her comfort zone), and Jack actually makes her feel special, feel wanted, feel as if what makes her so different than everyone else might not be such a deal-breaker after all.

But as senior year unfolds, and Alex's relationships intensify with both Peekay and Jack, she realizes she cannot hide who she really is, what she is driven to do. She tries as hard as she can, but her need to avenge mistreatment, violence, wrongdoing by taking matters into her own hands always wins out. She doesn't want there to be secrets, especially between her and Jack, but she knows if he discovers who she really is, they have no chance at a future anyway, so she may as well fulfill the role she feels destined to.

"There are parts of yourself that you hate; parts that you know other people wouldn't understand."

All I can say about this book is holy crap. (And that's a cleaned-up version.) This seems to be a year of unforgettable, unique characters—Letty Dobesh in Blake Crouch's Good Behavior; Julian in Robin Roe's A List of Cages; Ivan Isaenko in Scott Stambach's The Invisible Life of Ivan Isaenko; and Evan Smoak in Gregg Hurwitz's Orphan X, just to name a few. Yet no character is like Alex Craft. She's like a cross between Lisbeth Salander and Dexter, but with more vulnerability and heart. (And I say that not to discount this book as simply a gruesome thriller, because it is so much more than that.)

Mindy McGinnis does something I've not seen in a book recently, particularly a YA book: she conveys a strong message without making the story heavy-handed or preachy. While she clearly isn't recommending that people avenge murder, rape, and other violence, she is saying that women (and men) shouldn't allow themselves to live in fear or shame, to remain a victim. I hope that message reaches the ears of those who need to hear it.

I thought this book was really amazing. It's certainly not for everyone, and it's not realistic, but that didn't detract from its appeal in any way. This is book with tremendous heart and emotion, suspense, and some violence which might be troubling for some. But McGinnis knows how to tell a story that hooked me from start to finish, and it's a story populated by characters I won't soon forget. Truly a home run, as far as I'm concerned.

Movie Review: "Hell or High Water"

Hell or High Water is a pretty crazy, take-no-prisoners kind of movie, but one that gets you thinking as much as it gets your heart pumping.

Its plot is familiar: Toby Howard (Chris Pine) has been struggling, both emotionally and financially. He cared for his ailing mother at home on the family's West Texas ranch until her death, and now the bank is ready to take the ranch away. (It's not just money, mind you—there are rumors that there is a ton of oil that the state wants to drill for, but only once they take possession.)

Toby doesn't even have enough money to pay his ex-wife child support, so he is no financial position to pay the bank what is owed on the reverse mortgage and the back taxes. Desperate to save the property, more for his sons than anything, he does the only thing he can think of: floats a plan to his ex-con brother Tanner (a more-than-slightly-unhinged Ben Foster) about how they can get the money they need. Although it's clear that Tanner is the muscle and Toby is the brains behind the scheme, both clearly need each other more than they're willing to admit.

While Tanner is more confident than Toby that they'll pull the scheme off, what neither brother counts on is that quirky Texas Ranger Marcus Hamilton (Jeff Bridges, in full curmudgeon mode), who is just a short time away from retirement, picks up their trail and is determined to foil their plans, if for no other reason than it delays his beginning to spend the rest of his life sitting on his porch, wondering what next. Hamilton and his partner, whom he loves to needle more than perhaps solving crimes, try to figure out the brothers' next move before they make it.

Much of the plot isn't necessarily surprising, but it is a crazy, fun movie, with both great action and tension as well as some unexpected moments of sensitivity. The performances truly elevate this from a typical crime movie, and make it a hell of a lot more enjoyable, too. Bridges takes the saltiness and orneriness of his True Grit performance and throws in some emotional depth for good measure, and he certainly chews the scenery from time to time as well. It's a role that film critics seem to love (deservedly so), and I won't be surprised to see him among the Oscar nominees for Best Supporting Actor next month.

I don't think Chris Pine gets nearly enough credit for his acting talent, either because of his looks or the fact that he plays Captain Kirk in the Star Trek franchise, but he is really compelling in this movie. But in my opinion, this movie revolves around Ben Foster. He is truly a whirling dervish in this movie, mischievous and crafty, reckless and protective, and he and Pine make a great team.

I feel like Foster is one of the most unheralded actors of his generation—he's turned in some fantastic performances in his career (check out The Messenger, for one), yet he doesn't get the acclaim he deserves. As much as award voters are singling out Bridges, Foster should be right up there, and it is a crime that he's really not getting mentioned.

I really enjoyed this movie, and thought it was well-written and well-directed, in addition to being well-acted. It's on the shortlist of movies being considered for a Best Picture nomination, deservedly so. It's definitely one hell of a ride.

Movie Review: "Manchester by the Sea"

Can we ever outrun the burdens of our past, or are we stuck carrying them for the rest of our lives? Does a person who makes a terrible mistake deserve another chance, or should they be doomed to a life of misery? At times brutal, at times hopeful, Kenneth Lonergan's Manchester by the Sea attempts to answer those questions.

Lee Chandler (a mesmerizing Casey Affleck) is a custodian for several apartment buildings. He's clearly good at his job, although it is also evident that he isn't challenged much, and is mostly going through the motions. He is well-liked by some tenants, treated as invisible by others, and still others get on his last nerve, and he's not afraid to tell them what he thinks, even if he shouldn't. But there has to be a reason a seemingly intelligent, good-looking man would be willing to live a near-monastic existence, punctuated only by bouts of drunken bar fights.

One day he gets a call he has been somewhat expecting: his brother (Kyle Chandler), who had been suffering from congestive heart failure for a number of years, has died. Lee has to head back to his hometown of Manchester, MA, to tell his teenage nephew Patrick (Lucas Hedges) about his father's death and handle the arrangements. It's not long before being back in Manchester starts to wear on him—people talk about him behind his back, stare at him, and many can't seem to hide their disdain. That, coupled with having to essentially serve as Patrick's chauffeur (and pimp, of sorts), is more than he can handle given the grief he is feeling.

When Lee finds out that his brother named him Patrick's legal guardian and made arrangements for him to move back to Manchester, there is nothing he wants less. He tries to find someone else willing to care for Patrick, and, failing that, starts planning to move Patrick back to Boston, where he has been living. But Patrick doesn't understand why Lee can't just stay in Manchester, given he didn't have much of a job or a life back in Boston. After all, why should Patrick, who has his whole life in Manchester, be uprooted?

Having to encounter his ex-wife Randi (Michelle Williams) is even harder than he expected. Lee knows he has to figure things out for Patrick's sake and his own, but he doesn't know if he can handle being in Manchester much longer without completely falling apart. And he doesn't know if he's really ready to face the reason he left years ago, even if he needs to for Patrick's sake.

Manchester by the Sea is a really bleak, sad movie at times, but there are glimmers of hope and humor. It is the performances, however, which save the movie from sinking into complete depression. Affleck, who has been known of late more for his off-screen antics and rants than his acting, gives the performance of his career in this movie. Lee is a man who has being seriously suffering, and he clearly thinks he doesn't deserve anything better. Affleck's portrayal treads the fine line between melancholy and stoicism, but you can see in his eyes and his gestures just how much he is hurting.

Williams' role is a fairly small but tremendously pivotal one. There is one scene where Randi and Lee run into each other on the street that both broke my heart and took my breath away. She is so fantastic in this small role; it seems really unfortunate that it appears the Oscars will have her competing in the same category as Viola Davis who, while utterly fantastic in Fences, appears in 95 percent of that movie.

This is the first time I've seen Hedges, who has mostly tiny movie and television roles to his credit. He does a great job here. Patrick is cocky but vulnerable, selfish but still sensitive. While at first he seems like a young man who expects everything to go his way, as the movie unfolds, you realize that he, too, has a lot of hidden hurt inside him.

Lonergan has really created a fantastic film, despite its heaviness. And while this is certainly an emotionally weighty movie, there is much that transpires in the words not said, as well as the things the characters say to each other. It is truly an Oscar-worthy film; both Affleck and Williams deserve to win, although the former is far more likely than the latter, and I'd love to see Hedges included among the Best Supporting Actor nominees.

I wouldn't see this if you're feeling emotionally vulnerable, but see it. These performances, this story may break your heart, but hopefully you'll realize everyone deserves at least a little hope.

Movie Review: "Jackie"

To me, Jackie Kennedy has always seemed like a total enigma. Although she approached her role as first lady with tremendous poise, grace, and style, quite often it appeared as if she wished she could have been anywhere else. And while I wasn't alive during the Kennedy administration, I always admired the fierceness with which she protected her privacy despite still being such an iconic figure, as well as her devotion to her children.

Pablo Larraín's film mainly concentrates on Jackie's life in the moments, days, and weeks after her husband's assassination, one of the most traumatic events the American public had experienced in some time. It also looks back on certain instances in which she demonstrated the flair, the youthful interest in culture, the elegance which endeared her to the public.

The majority of the movie has Jackie (Natalie Portman, practically disappearing into her character) talking to a journalist (Billy Crudup) about what she thinks her husband's legacy should be, and what life was like for her prior to, during, and after the assassination. Of course, she's not going to let him actually publish most of what she says, but the interview is a perfect opportunity to share her frustrations, her fears, what she perceives to be her lack of purpose, and most of all, her grief.

Immediately following the assassination, Jackie had to deal not only with her grief, but how to appropriately embody that to the American people. She was determined that her husband's funeral and burial should be appropriate for a world leader, especially one with his stature, despite his family's reticence and the desire of the new president to control the situation. (Those not alive during this time might not realize that for a while, no one was completely sure whether Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone, or if Kennedy's assassination was part of a larger plot which could endanger the country.)

Jackie was a whirlwind of emotions and demands, much to the chagrin of Bobby Kennedy (Peter Sarsgaard), who has appointed himself her protector. He, too, is concerned about his brother's legacy, but isn't sure the spectacle Jackie wants is right for the country. But as she struggles with her faith, her feelings about her husband and their marriage, and her crushing grief, she is more concerned with doing what is right, what will make people remember her husband and his presidency into the future.

While the movie itself moves at a very slow pace, Portman is utterly mesmerizing. She has Kennedy's breathy, patrician speech patterns down pat, and many times when I saw her on screen I didn't think I was looking at an actress portraying Jackie Kennedy, I thought I was looking at Kennedy herself. This is truly a tour de force performance, one I thought was even stronger than her Oscar-winning performance in Black Swan. It could even net her a second Oscar.

Amazingly, although this movie has a large cast, it often seems like a one-woman show, because the focus is mainly on Jackie. I'm a Sarsgaard fan but didn't think he brought anything special to his portrayal of RFK, and while Greta Gerwig does a sympathetic turn as White House Social Secretary Nancy Tuckerman, and John Hurt brings some crusty charm as Jackie's priest, this is Portman's movie.

I don't know how close to the truth this movie adheres, but it was a fascinating look at such a turbulent time in American history, and how passionate Jackie Kennedy was about preserving her husband's legacy. Living in the Washington, DC area, it is a legacy that is still very much a part of this city, so we can be grateful for all she fought for.