Ep. 11/ Plot Twists and Paperback Dreams
From Sandworms to Secret Gardens - 27 Stories That Shaped The 27th Year Of My Life
Hey there all you curious kitties,
I just want to share with you all how wonderful the 27th year of my life was in terms of the books I read. Oh no, not the number — God, no. Quantitatively, it was atrocious. I barely read 27 books. (27 books in 27, though. You see what I did there, right? Right? )
But this year, I’m trying this new thing where I focus more on the silver linings than the grey clouds. And honestly, qualitatively, 27 was très magnifique. Every book I read this past year was crème de la crème, top-tier, pure perfection.
Even the ones I didn’t personally love? I can think of people who would bask in their beauty. The books I rated lower weren’t bad — they just weren’t quite for me at that moment in time.
So here’s my bid to convince you to pick up these works of art and maybe experience the same (or even greater!) joy that I did.
Without further ado, here’s a list of some serious banger recommendations, in the order I read them:
1. An Ideal Husband by Oscar Wilde
An Ideal Husband is a meaty story infused with Wilde’s trademark epigrammatic humor. There are lots of very funny and very quotable lines. (Would it be a Wilde play if there weren’t glorious gems scattered throughout?) All I can say is: read this play — you shall laugh, you shall ponder, but you shall not be disappointed.
2. Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller
A truly moving, timeless, and emotionally powerful exploration of identity, family, and the American Dream. A gorgeously concocted tragedy that is a classic for a reason.
3. Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf with Maureen Howard
Virginia Woolf masterfully bandaged the entire narrative with multiple perspectives of London and Mrs. Dalloway. London feels like an evolving creature — a character in its own right. The psychological annotations throughout the prose bring the characters’ internal journeys beautifully to life.
This book certainly has its fair share of issues, though, and I would highly recommend checking out content warnings before diving in.
P.S. Dear Drake:
This is what a stream of consciousness looks like. Kindly take notes, because whatever that bizarre, mostly uninteresting word salad you called a “book” was… no, just no. That was the most egregious waste of a tree I have ever seen. Fortunately, I was able to get from cover to cover of that poetry compendium (or TikTok part 1 to TikTok part 96) in less than 10 minutes. (For context, I’m talking about Titles Ruin Everything: A Stream of Consciousness by Aubrey Graham and Kenza Samir. I know I took quite a long detour to hate on this book, but come on — an entire poem reads “I’m a terrible texter, but a great writer.” Seriously? Who lied to this man?)
Anyway, it’s time for me to get back to our regularly scheduled programming.
4. Harmony: poems to find peace by Whitney Hanson
This book is a tender, soft, and gentle work of art, carefully and meticulously executed. Whitney’s words feel like a cozy weighted blanket.
5. Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde by Moisés Kaufman
An astoundingly brilliant piece of writing. The way each scene plays out on the page, you cannot help but visualize the whole thing. What was most intriguing to me is the fact that the Oscar Wilde I knew before reading this book was Oscar Wilde: the court jester, the wordsmith, the magician. But the Oscar Wilde on these pages is a very serious, almost broken artist — practically a worshipper of aesthetics and beauty.
The Oscar Wilde in the courtroom, it seems to me, was definitely not lacking in hubris, but was also imbued with a profound desire to have the souls of all humankind sing with the stunning beauty of art.
He seems to be pushing this idea: that people need to question the purpose of art and artists in general — and that was truly fascinating to me.
Can you separate the art from the artist? How far are you willing to go to define that separation? What is “morality” in the space of art?
Those are the questions.
6. The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde
“If I’m occasionally over-dressed, I make up for it by being always immensely over-educated” might just be one of my favorite quotes ever — but then again, this book has so many perfectly crafted lines that it’s genuinely hard to choose.
What a truly delightful read. I love how entertaining and veritably hilarious this play is, while also critiquing societal norms and values in a way that remains relevant and thought-provoking through the tides of time and across cultures. Wilde’s whirlwind of wit and wordplay is central to the play’s humor and satire, showcasing the importance of language in both revealing and concealing truths.
7. Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan
This is a deep, remarkably layered, and absolutely incredible story. Claire Keegan has authored the prose with subtle lyricism. There’s a very tangible undercurrent of softness in this otherwise grim slice-of-life story.
At its most boiled-down state, Small Things Like These is a book about kindness and goodness, about small but precious everyday deeds, about making hard but right choices — even when the consequences might be dire, especially when the consequences might be dire.
It shines a light on the fact that true heroes in our day-to-day lives are rarely loud and seldom swanky.
My only qualm with this book is that there isn’t more of it. Not your quintessential Christmas book, and yet, a perfect Christmas read in my opinion.
8. More Days at the Morisaki Bookshop by Satoshi Yagisawa with Eric Ozawa (Translator)
I read this book because a friend said, “I get the exact same vibe from this book as I do from you.” After reading it, I can confidently say that this is the best compliment I have ever received.
Because, my God, how warm, wholesome, pretty, tender, and yet so very profoundly precious this book is.
More Days at the Morisaki Bookshop is a gentle exploration of life, set against a backdrop rich in literary culture. While the narrative is beautifully light and comforting, it also delves into deep themes of connection, loss, grief, and personal growth.
The entire book seethes with soft charm and subtle sensibility. It is, in my opinion, the pinnacle of a cozy reading experience — perfect for those seeking solace and sweetness.
9. The Milky Way: An Autobiography of Our Galaxy by Moiya McTier with AnnaMarie Salai (Illustrator)
My absolute favorite thing about this book is how much fun Dr. McTier is so clearly having while telling us the story of our home galaxy. Another beautiful positive about this book is that it’s extremely informative, yet hilariously accessible. However, the tone and snarkiness of the Milky Way gets old very quickly, making the book slightly hard to get through.
10. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
Back in undergrad, when I first gave this book a go, I think I wasn’t quite ready for the level of literature I was working with. It most certainly read differently to me now and, in more ways than one, I think it spoke to me.
The Picture of Dorian Gray is an exquisite tale of art and sin, an exploration of the human soul, an exploit of external influence, and an exposé of the inherent violence in vanity. I now understand why this is one of the most talked-about works of Mr. Wilde.
His genius spills through every single word of this prose and seeps into the reader’s veins; his intelligence is palpable, and his love for all things beautiful — tangible. His whirlpool of wordplay inevitably and unquestioningly sucks the reader in. The writing is brilliant and so very intelligent.
I, for all intents and purposes, am never not valiantly resisting the urge to make this book my entire personality.
11. The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway
The Sun Also Rises is one of those masterclasses in the genius of writing, where the weight of the story lies in what’s a-brewing beneath the surface — a true celebration of the unsaid and how it’s not said.
Yet, the dialogues read like actual conversations between real people, and the settings are described so succinctly and vibrantly that it’s easy to feel like you’re in the middle of all the drama, as though you’re sharing taxi rides and scrumptious meals with Jake and his crew.
The feelings of resignation, hopelessness, and absolute loss are pervasive throughout the prose.
This novel is easy to read and entertaining to the last, with symbolism and metaphors abound!
No notes.
12. The Devil Wears Prada by Lauren Weisberger
While the book is a comical exposé of the fashion world, filled with acutely funny and satirical prose, the constant whining from the main character about practically every single thing made it very hard for me to enjoy without getting exasperated.
It was frustrating to get through pages and pages of written rants about the tiniest of things — often not even about Miranda — before I could truly appreciate the hustle, hard work, glitz, and glam so clearly woven into the story.
This is a book I would strictly recommend only to people who enjoy reading about fashion and New York.
13. The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson with Laura Miller
Oh, what a beautifully orchestrated gothic horror novel — a feast for those who revel in the uncanny. It is a book to be devoured in one breathless sitting. The prose gleams like tarnished silver, masterfully conjuring an atmosphere that is both eerie and profoundly unsettling.
Concise yet haunting, the novel weaves its tension through subtle supernatural disturbances and a slow, creeping dread that leaves readers perpetually questioning the boundary between reality and nightmare.
The Gothic architecture looms, the ghostly apparitions whisper, and every creaking floorboard and murmured noise enhances the oppressive, foreboding air to near perfection.
The characters and the setting are immaculately drawn, each one trembling at the fragile edges of reason. The psychological and supernatural trepidations dovetail with exquisite precision, pulling the reader ever deeper into the house’s dark embrace.
Terror seeps through every page — not overwhelming, but constant, like a low, thrumming heartbeat in the walls.
A sublime novel to lose oneself in — and to emerge from deliciously unsteady.
14. How to American: An Immigrant's Guide to Disappointing Your Parents by Jimmy O. Yang
I was pleasantly surprised by this book — it was entertaining, clever, and ended way before I was emotionally prepared for it to be over. I enjoyed it a lot more than I ever expected to.
Going in, I barely knew anything about Jimmy O. Yang, but by the end, he felt like that hilarious, slightly chaotic friend you can’t help but root for. His wit and humor are palpable, and his voice jumps right off the page.
My favorite parts were definitely about his relationship with his dad — half comedy gold, half surprisingly heartwarming therapy session. And the epilogue? Unexpectedly wholesome and beautiful in a way that kind of sneaks up on you.
Overall, I’d call this a quick, fun, one-sitting read — the perfect book for when you need a laugh, a little heart, and a reminder that disappointing your parents can still be pretty entertaining.
15. The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt
Very Dickensian in its style of writing — this behemoth of a book is brilliantly written and deeply emotional. Heavy enough to bench-press my self-esteem.
I loved it. I hated it. I wanted to throw it across the room. I wanted to meet Boris in real life.
Reading this book felt like experiencing a fever dream stitched together with a golden thread.
If you do decide to read it, prepare to encounter beauty and existential dread — in equal measure.
16. Dune by Frank Herbert
Machiavellian intrigue, mythology, religion, politics, imperialism, environmentalism, the very nature of power — this book doesn’t just touch everything; it redefines it.
Was I slightly traumatized by the sheer density of this novel? Absolutely.
Did I love it anyway because the world-building is so unparalleled it basically invented half of modern sci-fi? Without a doubt.
Paul Atreides, Muad’Dib, Lisan al Gaib, Kwisatz Haderach — whatever title you’re going by today — just hand me a stillsuit and point me to the nearest sandworm. I am ready to get to my main character dramatic desert hero self I was always meant to be.
17. Nirmala by मुंशी प्रेमचंद (Munshi Premchand)
If sadness were a finely crafted art form, Munshi Premchand would be Picasso.
Nirmala is heartbreak in paperback.
This was the first time I ever read a full-length Hindi novel for funsies (I know, I know — practically a blasphemy). I walked into the story hoping for sunshine, and instead, I got drenched in torrential rain.
A gut-punch of social commentary about women’s lives, child marriage, dowry, and injustice — told so simply it leaves you physically aching.
A hundred percent would recommend. Just… maybe have a hot cup of cocoa and a box of tissues at your side.
18. Lean in: Women, Work, and the Will to Lead by Sheryl Sandberg
I am hyper-aware that I showed up to this party so late they were already sweeping the floors.
I completely see why this book once had a cult following — and I completely see why parts of it aged like a loaf of bread left on a windowsill in July.
My recommendation is that you read this book only after you have a fully developed frontal lobe — so you can properly discern what’s worth following or emulating, and what things you might not necessarily vibe with.
A good fodder for thought, nonetheless.
19. The Canterville Ghost by Oscar Wilde
In case you hadn’t noticed I’m slightly wild for Mr. Wilde — but honestly, how could I not be?
I mean, look at this absolute masterpiece:
Ghost story? Check.
Satire? Check.
A completely baller American family terrorizing a centuries-old ghost into an existential crisis? Big, emphatic check.
The Canterville Ghost is basically Home Alone if it were set in a Victorian mansion and somehow managed to be even funnier and weirder.
Peak wit. Peak Wilde.
20. We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson
Ugh just thinking about this book makes me physically glitch. Creepy girls. Isolated mansion. Possibly poisoned sugar.
Shirley Jackson is the patron saint of “eerie, creepy, depressing, deadly vibes,” and this novel is extremely unsettling.
You’ll start doubting everything by page 10. By page 50, you’ll trust no one. By the end? You’re fully feral and rooting for those you initially thought of as weirdos.
5/5 would drink this sus tea again.
21. Crazy Rich Asians by Kevin Kwan
This book is Gossip Girl if Gossip Girl took a private jet to Singapore, bought three more jets just to flex, and then said, “Let’s cause generational drama just for the funsies.”
It’s glossy, ridiculous, hilarious, and somehow sneakily heartfelt.
Kevin Kwan writes wealth so absurdly that you start thinking, “Maybe I deserve an indoor koi pond next to my bedroom too??”
Delicious escapism. Pure fun. The ending felt kind of mid to me, though. Also, movie Astrid >>> book Astrid. I am not accepting any constructive criticism of my opinions at this time.
22. The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett
Sad, cranky, lonely — yet somehow adorable — children finding joy and friendship through literal gardening therapy? Sign me up. Like these kids literally touched grass and healed their souls.
Also, major shoutout to the robin — the true MVP of this entire story.
(If you don’t immediately want to plant an entire garden after reading this, we need to have a serious chat, because honestly, how can you not?)
23. Sh*t my dad says by Justin Halpern
This book is a compilation of hilariously blunt, brutally honest dad-isms.
Extremely quotable. Extremely relatable. Extremely chaotic. If sarcasm is your love language, this book will feed you like an all-you-can-eat buffet — and you’ll be going back for thirds. I said what I said.
24. A Man Without a Country by Kurt Vonnegut
I read somewhere that you must read Kurt Vonnegut in your twenties, so I grabbed the first book of his I could get my grubby little hands on.
Vonnegut wrote this book like your grumpy, brilliant uncle who has seen way too much weird stuff in the world but still low-key thinks you might survive and thrive out there.
This book is witty, bitter, hopeful, and hits you right in the “I have no idea what I’m doing, but maybe that’s fine?” part of your soul.
You’ll laugh. You’ll cry. You’ll stare into the distance and dramatically rethink your life choices.
25. Shoe Dog by Phil Knight
This is a surprisingly raw, human story about risk, stubbornness, multiple near-bankruptcies — and somehow building an empire anyway.
A brilliantly articulated startup story that honestly made me want to run a marathon… or at least put on my sneakers and think about it.
26. The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse by Charlie Mackesy
The book is equivalent to a warm hug, a cozy fireplace, and a really good cry all at once.
This is the kind of book you can read in under an hour — but will live rent-free in your heart forever.
It’s simple. It’s profound. It’s pure serotonin. It’s basically therapy, but cuter and with gobsmackingly gorgeous illustrations.
27. Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan
I love that Rick Riordan just yeeted Percy into a world of angry gods and deadly quests and somehow managed to make it believable.
It’s fast, it’s funny, it’s genuinely heartwarming. 10 out of 10 would join Camp Half-Blood and absolutely get myself killed trying to throw hands with a minotaur.
So there it is — the grand chaotic symphony that was my 27th year of reading: fewer books, better books, and a whole lot of feelings. I love how it wasn’t a year of checking off lists. It was a year of letting myself be moved, surprised, comforted — one well-written page at a time.
If you’ve made it this far you’re now officially required to treat yourself to a warm blanket, a cozy beverage, and a new book (I don’t make the rules. Actually, I kind of do here, but just go with it. Trust me, you’ll thank me later!)
As I step into 28, I’m carrying this same spirit with me: more wonder, more intention, more room for magic.
Here’s to finding new favorites, to feeling homesick for places that don’t even exist, to letting words heal us in ways we didn’t even know we needed, and to never underestimating how much joy a single perfect line on a page can bring.
Bring it on, 28. I’ve got a TBR, a library card, and absolutely no self-control. Let’s do this thing!
Until next time.
Xoxo
