My most significant books of 2023
To begin, an apology: this isn’t the last Thursday of December, so by the standards I’ve set myself, this is late. But who wants to read an email newsletter on the Thursday between Christmas and New Year, anyway? Surely it’s better to receive it at the end of the first week in January, when you may be more inclined to digest it?
Not necessarily the best, or my favourite
Last year, I wrote that Immanuel by Matthew McNaught was my favourite book of the year. This year, I don’t have a favourite. There were plenty of books I liked, but none that stand out.
Instead, I’ve decided to share the books that were most significant to me in 2023. They’re here, because I’ve learnt something - either about writing, or about myself - from them.
The Road, by Cormac McCarthy
This is a great story, but I value this book so highly as it showed me just how strongly style and presentation can be used to service the story and the mood.
McCarthy has a famously stripped back style (no speech attribution, very little punctuation) as he doesn’t want the page to be cluttered with distractions. As well as a visual cleanliness, the starkness adds to the punch of the story.
We should go, Papa. Can we go?
Yes. We can go.
I’m scared.
I know. I’m sorry.
I’m really scared.
It’s all right. We shouldnt have come.
It’s taught me not to stress about which are the ‘correct’ quotation marks to use in British English, for example, but to do what works best for the story. It’s also a challenge to try and write dialogue so well that attribution (she said, he said) is unnecessary.
Also…
I’ll add a special mention for In the Skin of a Lion by Michael Ondaatje, which I didn’t read in 2023 so doesn’t officially make this list, but also has an individual dialogue layout style, which works perfectly.
- How are you Patrick?
He gave his nervous laugh that she loved.
- I’m on the verge as usual.
- Don’t lose that.
Calendário Avulso, by Paola D’Agostino and Nina Fraser
Compared with other artists and creators, writers can seem preoccupied with satisfying gatekeepers - agent, publisher, bookseller - all before reaching their audience, the reader. Often, we don’t even write anything unless someone has commissioned us to do so.
Visual artists tend not to behave in this way. Some will work with a gallerist or representative, who stand in the way of the artist and their audience, but visual artists tend not to ask permission before making art. They have an idea, and they put it to paper. They may even reproduce it as prints, and sell it through their own channels. There’s a directness to the process that I admire.
This is why I was so excited to receive my friend Nina’s small book, created with Paola D’Agostino. It pairs Nina’s images with Paola’s text. It’s exciting, because it takes that DIY visual artist sensibility to production and applies it to a book.
It gave me the confidence to think that if I wanted to do this - perhaps a self-produced short story in a small book sold direct to the reader - then I can do so. Of course I can.
Yes, a self-published pamphlet might not make me loads of money, but with the state of writing at the moment, a conventionally published text probably wouldn't either. By thinking like an artist, I can be free of conventions about form and style and content and create whatever I want.
Now, I just need to do so.
Also…
Similarly, my colleague Liliana Tucker self-initiated/wrote/drew/produced Impermanence: When we Become Butterflies.
The Momentum Mindset, by Vicki Main & Jonathan S. Bean
Yes, this is my own book, co-written with Vicki Main, but I’m not going to be ashamed of including it here. This article is all about books I’ve learnt from, and I learnt a lot from this one.
As well as learning a lot about mindset through the research, this taught me about the actual nuts and bolts of drafting, editing, collaborating, designing, layout, printing, ISBN numbers, legal deposits, sales, distribution, etc.
In effect, Vicki and I became a boutique publishing house!
If you want to talk about how we did it, please get in touch. Or, watch this space, as we’re working on a self-publishing course which will be available soon.
Hang on…
You might be thinking: ‘Hang on. In the section above you wrote that Nina and Paola’s book gave you the confidence to self-publish and that you now need to do so. But you’ve already done it.’
The difference is that The Momentum Mindset wasn’t self-initiated. Vicki had already been working on it before I joined the project. Thus, Calendário Avulso has helped me realise (the really rather obvious point) that I don’t need someone else to commission me before I can create a book project. The process of creating The Momentum Mindset has given me the skills to put it all into a tangible form.
Owlish, by Dorothy Tse
The books above have all helped me as a writer. This one helped me as a reader.
I sometimes struggle with magic realism and stuff that isn't 100% of this world, or 100% fantasy. For instance, I liked The Buried Giant, but struggled through One Hundred Years of Solitude. I tend to find myself trying to understand how it all works, and rationalise it.
At first, I thought Owlish might be a problem, but the story captivated me. I then accepted that I, as the reader, am not meant to know exactly how this world is structured, or where the lines between reality, imagination, and metaphor are drawn. The important thing is to surrender myself to what I'm reading and just go with it, paying attention to the emotions.
Enjoy how it makes your heart move, don't worry if it confuses your head because that can be a wonderful thing.
Thank you for reading
Feel free to chip in with your comments, either on my suggestions, or your own significant books of 2023. I’d love to hear from you.
Normal I love words service will resume on the last Thursday of January. Until then, here’s a photo I took in the summer…
A thousand words
Cows, near Woolacombe, summer 2023, Kodak film.
