TOP TEN BOOKS OF 2015

Ever since I saw Emma Blackery’s video last Christmas, I’ve been looking forward to writing a Top Ten Books of 2015 list. (What can I say? I love lists. These are the things that excite me in life.) Finally, after a turbulent year of both excellent and awful reading, the time has arrived; below you will find my Top Ten books of 2015, plus a few honourable mentions that didn’t quite make the cut. Compiling this list was an incredibly gruelling and taxing emotional journey. I hope that effort is noticeable.  

Disclaimer: this list is composed of books I read in 2015; not all of them were released in 2015, although quite a few actually were. Of the 52 books I have read this year as of writing, these were, in my opinion, the best, opinion being the key word here. I’m not saying these are the best books ever. These are just the ones I really, really liked.

10. Seconds by Bryan Lee O’Malley

I’m a religious Scott Pilgrim fan, so when I learned this year that Bryan Lee O’Malley, my lord and saviour, had released a new stand-alone graphic novel last year, I had to get my hands on it. I loved Seconds so much, I read it in one sitting. The book follows a headstrong young woman named Katie, head chef at a successful restaurant named Seconds, who discovers a magical, mushroom-y method of fixing her past mistakes and, in her bid to make her life perfect, only creates more problems for herself. It’s fun, quirky, and brimming with typical Bryan Lee O’Malley dry humour, and while it’s no Scott Pilgrim, it’s something special in its own right. I’d recommend Seconds to anyone who loves Scott Pilgrim, dry humour, and slightly psychedelic urban fantasy, which is the only way I can think to describe the genre of this fantastic graphic novel.

9. I’ll Give You the Sun by Jandy Nelson

This is the contemporary that reminded me why I love contemporaries. Twins Jude and Noah, inseparable in their youth, grow apart after a tragic accident leaves their family in ruins, and by sixteen, barely know each other anymore. I’ll Give You the Sun is the gorgeously written, agonizingly soulful tale of how Noah and Jude fell apart, and their journey back to where they started. The storyline was very clever -- all the ‘throwaway’ moments eventually come back around, which I like in a novel -- and the characters were so interesting and engaging and tortured (who doesn’t love a little bit of teen angst?) that you couldn’t help falling in love with them, rooting for them every step of the way. Admittedly, I did feel that the first quarter of the book dragged a little bit, before the main story kicked in and all the minor plot points started weaving together. I also found Jude’s point of view slightly less interesting than Noah’s, but that’s only because I’m a sucker for a good gay romance. Otherwise, if you live for angst and arthouse, this spectacular novel will be right up your alley.

8. Mother Night  by Kurt Vonnegut

I inherited a second-hand copy of this book from my Year 12 English teacher after I overheard him talking about the love of my life, Kurt Vonnegut, and dropped everything to join the conversation. I had read only one other Kurt Vonnegut book when I first picked this up, and as with the first, I was completely blown away. The dude is a genius, and definitely my favourite author as of writing. His intelligence and cynicism always show through in his works, particularly in Mother Night, which follows a reluctant American secret agent who moonlights as the most effective Nazi propaganda news broadcaster in Germany and whose allegiance to the USA is kept so heavily under wraps that although he provided invaluable espionage information to the US government, only three people actually know he was a spy, so he ends up on trial for crimes against humanity. It’s poignant, it’s funny and dark, it’s Vonnegut the way I’ve come to love him this year. He’s so gifted at satire, black comedy, insight, metaphor, and impactful messages, and I just love him, okay? I love Kurt Vonnegut, and I love Mother Night.

7. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

I feel like I don’t need to explain the plot since this book is literally over 200 years old, but for those who don’t know, Elizabeth Bennet belongs to a middle-class family in Victorian England, and her mother’s sole wish is to marry her five daughters off to rich suitors. Drama ensues in the Bennet household when the incredibly wealthy, incredibly handsome, and incredibly arrogant Mr. Darcy moves into town with his charismatic best friend, Mr. Bingley. I’ve been meaning to read Pride and Prejudice  since I first saw Hank Green’s web series adaptation, The Lizzie Bennet Diaries, about 18 months ago, and I’m so glad I finally did. There’s no doubt in my mind why this book has survived for over two centuries: it’s witty, it’s funny, it’s dramatic, it’s wonderfully characterised, plus I love Mr. Darcy and would probably die for him, to be perfectly honest. The themes of class and friendship and sisterhood and pride versus prejudice are so well done and engaging; I’m usually not a fan of 19th century classics, but this one changed my tune.

6. Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli

People often think I’m very highbrow, because I love pretentious indie movies and I can quote Hamlet and T.S. Eliot and I want to impeach John Key, but there’s nothing that gets me going more than a good old, gay-ass YA novel. (I’m realising that there’s a slight gay theme to this list, but really, who’s complaining?) Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda, then, was just my cup of tea. Simon is developing a secret, online relationship with a boy who goes by the personna Blue, but their secrecy is jeopardised when one of their emails falls into the wrong hands, and Simon starts getting blackmailed. It sounds way more dramatic than the book actually ended up being, but I might have just been distracted by how much I adored the friendships and relationships and just the characters in general. This book was so sweet and fun, and although it does carry the drama theme really well, I just can’t stress enough how ardently I admired and loved how happy and light this adorable book made me feel. I may be highbrow, but damn, I love cute shit. Let me live, okay?

5. Miss Peregrine’s Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs

I’ve kind of gone off book trilogies and series’ recently. It’s like superhero fatigue, but for the concept of the trilogy. That being said, No. 5 on my list is probably my favourite trilogy as of writing. I started this trilogy after YouTube personality jessethereader convinced me the first book, Miss Peregrine’s Home For Peculiar Children, was worth my money. Straight after finishing the first book, I promptly went out and bought the second, Hollow City, and purchased the third, Library of Souls (which came out this year), online the week after. This series is pitched as a horror/thriller, so you wouldn’t think I, the girl who hates horror, to enjoy it as much as I did, but I truly loved it. Riggs’ fantasy world is rich with intricate lore and stunning characters, and the guy is a pretty talented writer, which only helped matters. I love the world, I love the characters and the narrative voice, I love the mysterious and spooky story. Highly recommended to anyone who likes monsters and magic and general weirdness -- these books have all that and more. (For those wondering: Hollow City was my favourite.)

4. The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton

Everyone read this book in Year 10 English except me, so for a long time, I was part of a weird group of outsiders (heh): writers who haven’t read The Outsiders. (It’s a small group.) Well, now I’ve finally read it, and I can’t believe I waited this long. For all the unfortunate souls in the same boat as I was, here’s the rundown: Ponyboy Curtis and his gang of ‘greasers’, middle-class boys with little money and even less direction in life, are at constant war with the ‘Socials’, better known as the Socs, upper-class and up their own asses. The dynamic between these two social classes remains unchallenged and unquestioned until someone takes the years-old turf war to a whole new level. I know I’m supposed to be stimulated by the themes of class and friendship and loyalty, and as an English major, I really, really am, but what really captured my heart while I was reading The Outsiders was Ponyboy as a character. In hindsight, his introspection and his observation of the world remind me respectively of The Perks of Being a Wallflower and The Catcher in the Rye, two excellent books and one excellent compliment. I liked how Ponyboy was really open how he was feeling, even if he didn’t really understand it  himself; it’s always interesting to see male characters be sensitive and emotional, since males are typically denied the right to portray these ‘feminine’ qualities in real life and in textual media. Obviously The Outsiders is a seventh or eighth-grade level read, so I flew through it in less than two days, but for all its simplicity, I simply loved it more. I hadn’t gotten that emotional over a book since I read the book at No. 1 on this list.

3. Me and Earl and the Dying Girl by Jesse Andrews

I actually reviewed this book last month, so if you want my full thoughts on it, you know where they are. This novel is about a high schooler named Greg Gaines, who makes his way through life unscathed by vaguely befriending everyone and thus slipping under the radar -- until his mom forces him to befriend Rachel, an estranged friend recently diagnosed with leukemia. It’s essentially a pity friendship that evolves into something more meaningful, which sounds really depressing, but it’s somehow not; my favourite thing about this book was the fact that it was insanely funny. I laughed out loud at almost every joke. I laughed out loud at the parts that weren’t jokes, but were just worded funny. There was just a lot of general laughter going on while I was reading this. I did have some a small issue with one part of the book, but I had such a good time reading the rest, I’m willing to overlook it. If The Fault in Our Stars made you super miserable but you’re still in the mood for a good cancer book, pick up Me and Earl and the Dying Girl. It’s still miserable, but less!

2. Carry On by Rainbow Rowell

Part of me feels like I should have a poignant, soulful, highbrow classic that taught me an invaluable lesson about humanity at No. 2 on this list. The rest of me is screaming, fuck it. I loved Carry On, and I want the world to know. Carry On is a continuation from Rowell’s 2013 work, Fangirl. In Fangirl, Cath Avery writes fanfiction about a children’s fantasy series about Simon Snow; in Carry On, Rowell gives Simon and his comrades, “only half-imagined in Fangirl, the story [she] felt [she] owed them”. Simon attends a magical school called Watford, which is not unsimilar to Hogwarts but also not unsimilar to a regular British secondary school, and which is threatened by this narrative’s version of Voldemort: the Insidious Humdrum. As a diehard Harry Potter fan, I should be offended by how much of Simon Snow’s world mirrors Harry Potter’s, but Rowell actually interpreted the age-old idea of ‘wizard school’ in quite a unique, modern manner -- the students carry laptops and trial for the football team, not the Quidditch one. The thing I loved most about Carry On is actually a spoiler, so I won’t mention it, but damn, does Rainbow Rowell know how to write characters, for it was Simon and Baz and all their friends and foes who really made this novel a stand-out for me this year. They were witty and funny and perfectly executed; the teenage voice in this novel was highly accurate, bitchy and petty and profane but also reaching appropriate levels of John Green-like vocabulary -- teenagers are dickheads, but they’re not idiots, and Carry On really showed this. I couldn’t get enough. Rainbow Rowell, if you’re reading this, please write me more Simon Snow. I love him so much.

1. The Martian by Andy Weir

Really, who’s surprised? Anyone who has spoken more than four words to me in their life knows I love The Martian. I’ve told everyone and their mother to read it. I even reviewed it earlier in the year -- once again, you know where to find it. I find it difficult to articulate how much I love this book; I’m a writer, and yet I adore this book so much, I can’t put it into words. This masterpiece, self-published in 2011, follows the obtusely optimistic astronaut Mark Watney, who, after a freak storm/accident leads his mission team to believe him dead, finds himself stranded alone on Mars and has to figure out how to survive with meagre supplies until the next mission team arrives… in four years. Luckily, Mark Watney isn’t the kind to lose his head in a crisis. This novel has everything. It has suspense. (I was literally sweating and shaking while reading the final act.) It has science. It has brilliant comedic value for a man whose prospects are so dire. It has SPACE. I loved everything about this book, from the characters to the amazing scientific accuracy to the storyline to the fact that it’s set in space, and space is amazing. The Martian is so funny and engaging and hopeful, delightful on every single page, and I can say with absolute certainty that not only is it, beyond the shadow of a doubt, the best book I read this year; it’s one of the best books I’ve ever read in my life. I would recommend this book to literally anyone. Please just read it. I promise you need this book in your life.

HONOURABLE MENTIONS

• Yes Please by Amy Poehler
• Go Set a Watchman by Harper Lee
• Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton
• The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller
• Saga, written by Brian K. Vaughan, illustrated by Fiona Staples

STAR WARS: EPISODE VII - THE FORCE AWAKENS

"The Force... it's calling to you. Just let it in." - Maz Kanata, Star Wars: The Force Awakens

WARNING: This review does not contain significant spoilers for The Force Awakens. It does, however, make allusions to certain scenes and the roles of certain characters. If you want to go into the movie knowing nothing about it, don't read this review until after you've seen the film. Do come back and read it, though. It's a good review, if I do say so myself. 

DISCLAIMER: This review is, first and foremost, constructed upon my personal reaction to the movie. Also, as of this writing, I’ve only seen the film once. The logician in me knows I should wait until I’ve seen the film more than once before reviewing it so I can be as critical as possible, but I JUST CAN’T, GUYS. I JUST CAN’T. I HAVE TOO MANY FEELINGS ABOUT EVERYTHING.

As someone who grew up wielding twigs as lightsabers and wearing my bathrobe with the hood pulled over my eyes so I looked like a Jedi Knight, I never thought I’d live to see another Star Wars movie be released. (Look, the prequels don’t count, okay? They’re not Star Wars. They’re something, but they’re not Star Wars.) Then, in 2012, Disney acquired Lucasfilm for $4 billion and announced that they were making a sequel trilogy to the original Star Wars films. I’m not going to lie: I was highly dubious at first – the chances of the sequels turning out as unsatisfying as the prequels was just too great – but with the release of 2014’s Christmas teaser trailer for Episode 7, Star Wars: The Force Awakens, I begrudgingly allowed myself to feel something reminiscent of anticipation for the continuation of one of my favourite childhood series’. That anticipation only built as 2015 dragged itself along, degenerating into practical hysteria by the time I booked my tickets in mid-October to December 17th’s midnight premiere; needless to say, the apprehension was unbelievable. I’m surprised it didn’t kill me.

Good news: I am still alive, The Force Awakens is finally here, and it’s everything we could ever have hoped it would be.

I know, I know: I’m a book review blog, but honestly, who can blame me for bending the rules? This is not only one of the most spectacular, out-of-this-galaxy events not only of this year, but also of my life – it’s not every day you get to experience a Star Wars film midnight premiere. And lord, what a premiere it was. There’s nothing more satisfying than experiencing a film for the first time in a cinema lined with people who love the franchise just as much as you do, and, as I can now testify, there is nothing more satisfying than seeing a Star Wars film on the big screen. All doubts I may have had previously about how good another Star Wars movie could actually be were completely and utterly blown out of the water. The Force Awakens is a fantastic film, not just as an extension of the Star Wars universe but also as a punchy, fast-paced, action-packed sci-fi thriller all on its own, and although it has its obvious flaws, I can safely say that this film is truly worthy of being called a Star Wars film. It’s better than the prequels, guys. What more can you ask of it?

I loved a lot of things about The Force Awakens. I loved the female lead. I loved the witty, playful writing. What I loved most, however, was the fact that The Force Awakens felt just like a Star Wars movie – without actually really looking like one. I’ve never seen any of J.J. Abrams’ other films, but I could tell The Force Awakens was an incredibly J.J. Abrams-esque film, the same way you can tell a David Fincher film is a David Fincher film or a Wes Anderson film is a Wes Anderson film. The first six films in this franchise are all styled and crafted after roughly the same model – they all look alike, like siblings. From the very get-go, it was obvious that Abrams had abandoned this model completely. Much to my utter and audible delight, the film starts with the classic, heart-wrenching main title theme, STAR WARS emblazoned across a starry night sky, and three crawling paragraphs of exposition – and that’s basically where the cinematic similarities with the previous films end. There was a breath-taking Mad Max: Fury Road feel to The Force Awakens for me. Unlike its predecessors, which take great advantage of slow tracking shots and wide camera angles, Episode 7 was cut together at breakneck speeds, racy and lightning fast and so unique compared to every other Episode. We get catch-your-breath electrically-charged lightsaber battles that feel meatier than ever before, scenes that are nail-biting and tense while also choreographed in an uncharacteristically fun and whimsical way, we get energy – energy we just don’t see in the originals or the prequels (although not to their discredit). In terms of the craftsmanship, The Force Awakens didn’t look classically Star Wars, but that somehow made it feel all the more Star Wars anyway. Abrams brought a new method of crafting our favourite fantasy world to the table, and I’m genuinely going to miss it in Episodes 8 and 9. It was interesting and exciting, and unexpected, too, adding edge and juice to the film in places no one could have predicted.

What else is there to love about The Force Awakens, apart from, like, everything? Stand-out for me were the cast and the writing, and how well these two crucial elements integrated in Episode 7. Probably the most highly anticipated factor of the sequel trilogy was the fact that the cast of the original trilogy would be returning to reprise their old roles; nothing gets a nerd going better than some good old fashioned Han and Chewie banter. However, we were also challenged with the arrival of a new golden trio, who would be taking the place of Luke, Leia, and Han as the three main characters. Gorgeous newcomer Daisy Ridley is a feisty scavenger named Rey, the charming John Boyega appears as a defecting Stormtrooper who goes by Finn, and the love of my life, Oscar Isaac, plays the charismatic and captivating Poe Dameron, best pilot in the galaxy and damn sure of it. To my disappointment, the new trio never actually directly interact all at once in the film – I’m hoping this will change in Episodes 8 and 9 – but they did interact in pairs, and when they did, it was hilarious. Writers Lawrence Kasdan, Michael Arndt, and Abrams himself paid obvious attention to comic relief in The Force Awakens, something that just wasn’t focused on as much in earlier Star Wars films. I’m not saying the originals aren’t funny – in my opinion, The Force Awakens is just wittier and snappier than the slightly more sombre and regal original trilogy. Episode 7 is less about catchy one-liners and more about fast-paced back-and-forth dialogue, and I personally found it really engaging that our new characters had such instant chemistry between them because of this new writing style. The mixing of the old cast and the new was done extremely elegantly, without too much heavy-handedness or stuffiness that could easily have occurred – it was a great risk, shoving two all-star casts together like Abrams did, but one thing I’ve learned from The Force Awakens is that J.J. Abrams has a lot of nerve. The dude is ballsy as hell. (If you’ve seen the film, you know what I’m talking about. You know.) Once again, The Force Awakens acted in a way integrally anti-Star Wars, yet somehow felt all the more authentically Star Wars because of it. I don’t know how Abrams did it, but I truly admire it.

Obviously, Episode 7 isn’t flawless. What footage we saw in the trailers made me nervous that we would essentially be getting a carbon copy of A New Hope, and in some areas, paying tribute to the original trilogies did just look like copying – I mean, Jakku is basically Tatooine. Don’t fight me on this. They’re the exact same place. Andy Serkis’ character, Supreme Leader Snoke, reminded me a little too much of Ronan from Guardians of the Galaxy (this is not a compliment), while also emulating Emperor Palpatine a tad too strongly for it to not be considering copying, and there were some scenes that felt either under-discussed or emotionally overdeveloped, falling victim to the film’s otherwise exhilarating pace. I personally felt that while it made sense with the progression of the plot, Kylo Ren’s origin was explained too soon – we could easily have been made to wait until at least Episode 8 for it, which would have made more logical sense, but that is definitely just my opinion. Nevertheless, I was simply enchanted by The Force Awakens. Yeah, maybe I’m biased. Maybe the ten-year-old Star Wars fangirl in me who actually liked – okay, fine, loved – The Phantom Menace is determined to overlook anything that could possibly be bad about the film, but I just don’t believe that’s the case. You wouldn’t have been able to convince me it was true when the sequel trilogy was first announced back in 2012, but we’ve finally been gifted a continuation of the Star Wars trilogy that we can honestly and genuinely be proud of. I chose to blindly trust in J.J. Abrams, to follow him into this new era of Star Wars without looking first. I chose well. The Force Awakens, for all its borderline-plagiarised allusions to A New Hope, was simply phenomenal, fun and exciting and dramatic and action-packed and, most importantly, a great, great Star Wars film – something we’ve been starved of since 1983. In J.J., we were very right to trust.