Books I read (or re-read) and loved in 2025.
By S.E. Schaible
This is relatively straightforward – I appreciate your comments and any suggestions for the new year. I am writing a memoir, so I read a lot of memoirs but also appreciate other genres. And sometimes after reading a memoir like The Glass Castle, I want to pivot to something casual while that amazing work sinks in. These are in no particular order.
Bullies – A Friendship by Alex Abramovich. This is a fascinating work – sometimes dealing with uncomfortable truths but always buoyed by great writing and a sense of just how much time it takes to adjust the course while the ship is steaming ahead. It harkens the Eddie Vedder lyrics from Pearl Jam’s Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town: “I’ve changed by not changing at all. Small town predicts my fate. Perhaps that’s what no one wants to see.”
Gilead by Marilynne Robinson. A stunning book. I set it down a year ago about a third of the way in, for no good reason, just distracted by some shiny object (or a writing deadline for a paying client). Jumped right back in and loved it. I heard my grandfather’s voice as I read it. Gorgeous.
Townie by Andre Dubus III. This was my second reading of this special memoir. I met Andre and took an advanced writing workshop with him a couple of summers ago. I identify with the arc – even though in Andre’s case he grew into someone who could throw down and protect himself and his siblings, and I began my life as someone who readily used his fists when words didn’t suffice but then had an abrupt slide into physical irrelevance. I became a scrawny kid but never lost my thirst for retribution when it came to assholes and bullies.
Happy-Go-Lucky by David Sedaris. I bought this at the Harvard bookstore for $3.00 – a remnant bargain after being recommended summer beach reading in 2022 for Harvard Law students. An exceptional collection by one of the funniest and most thought-provoking writers I know of. Poignant post-COVID get-back-out-there stuff. (No, I didn’t go to Harvard, just visited my step-daughter-in-law while she was a professor there and found something I wanted to purchase while my wife perused Harvard Mom shwag).
Et Tu, Babe? By Mark Leyner. I read this in the 90s when it was published and I re-read the first edition I kept. When I first read this, I loved it. I had just quit my job and was moving to Colorado with a new start in mind as a 29-year-old. “No brains, no headache” was on the surf shirt I wore at my Dewey Beach summer house. Thirty-plus years later I have crow’s feet and bark on me from raising three daughters, but this book still cracked me up like the fool I was back when. Re-reading Leyner gave me the inspiration to finally read…
Naked Lunch by William S. Burroughs. I wanted to read this since I read On The Road decades ago. I may have fallen victim to a few friends saying things like “good luck with that.” A challenging book to read? Yes. Worth it? Yes. Forget about looking for bolts to clip your rope into as you ascend – they aren’t there. Like free climbing a 5.11 route, not everyone will make it.
Ham On Rye by Charles Bukowski. This is the real deal. “Grit Lit,” I have heard people say describing the author. Stark, surprisingly poignant and always a hint of what the fuck is he going to do next. Like that one friend we all had back in the day, who you knew well enough to be nervous inviting him into the house or walking with at the mall. Damned great book. I wish this was a re-read; I’ve no clue why it took me this long to read it.
The Count of Monte Cristo, by Alexandre Dumas. My memoir is about a lifetime spent delivering retribution. Re-reading this for the first time since high school (ahem, 44 years ago) made me realize that the 16-year-old me didn’t appreciate the attention to detail and the years Edmond (aka Sinbad the Sailor) spent getting his vengeance – even though I was already doing quite a bit of that in my teen years. I am certain I will read this again several times before stepping on the rainbow. Five Stars. Highly Recommended.
MAD Guide to Fraud & Deception. When we moved to another town in New Jersey at age 15, I had two bankers boxes full of all the MAD books I had collected (and of course I read the magazine religiously). My eldest daughter picked this up at a thrift store and I realized that I had unknowingly consumed dozens (likely hundreds) of graphic novels as a kid. What my mother called “those stupid books.” Speaking of which, I went to an auction of original MAD artwork at Sotheby’s in New York in 1991 – thinking that with a $32,000 salary and a $700 limit on my Visa card I might score some cool Don Martin panels. I thought wrong.
Another Bullshit Night in Suck City, by Nick Flynn. Okay, I just cracked this open last night. Andre Dubus III suggested (demanded) I read it a couple summers ago and – well – I kept forgetting to pick it up. I will report on it soon, but it is off to a great start. Andre said some of my work reminded him of this memoir. Maybe I’ve been reluctant to read it because of this, perhaps a bit of imposter syndrome seeping in.
This list isn’t complete, but this is most of it. I am a slow reader so 12-15 books per year is about my limit. My wife gave me a gift certificate to a favorite bookstore for Christmas so that will keep me going. Please, drop a comment with a suggested title or three. Thanks, and here’s to your health and happiness in the coming year.