2008 in Review

Alex – My resolution to read fewer, but better quality, books went the way of most resolutions: of the 300 books I reviewed this year, 250 were fiction and 50 non-fiction (another year with no poetry), which is neat but coincidental!
Favourite novel: Underground – I read it early in 2008 and it stayed with me for the rest of the year, something of a measuring stick, and now (in the wake of political change both in Australia and the US) a reflection of a time that’s passed.
Favourite non-fiction book: this is far more difficult than picking a novel! I'm torn between Why We Buy, Better, How Doctors Think (by Jerome Groopman not Kathryn Montgomery), and the re-read The Tipping Point.
Favourite newly encountered author: a tie between the prolific Elizabeth Berg, the breathtakingly amusing Christopher Brookmyre, and Robert Muchamore, though I'm sure I'm forgetting several writers.
Most disappinting novel: Sandra Scopettone's Too Darn Hot: I love her contemporary stuff but this just left me cold
Least rewarding non-fiction book: a tie between Anything Goes by David Stove and An Omelette and a Glass of Wine by Elizabeth David: my mother loves her work but it just didn't speak to me at all
Most disliked read: Will Self's Great Apes, and I barely made it to page ten.

And what does 2009 hold? I’d like to tackle some of the novels I’ve had on my To Read list for a while, including Anthony Powell’s 12-part A Dance to the Music of Time (my mother’s favourite books), Vikram Seth’s A Suitable Boy (huge, but apparently worth it), and make some inroads in my own backlog of books, 2008 being the Year of the Library. I also plan to write my reviews contemporaneously, rather than saving them up for one mammoth reviewing session.

Lynn
When it comes to choosing a worst book of the year, my 2008 reading list leaves me spoilt for choice. Over the past twelve months I have been seduced by many a promising plot only to be disappointed by cardboard characters, poor writing, clichés and disbelief so suspended it snapped.
It has been a difficult decision but I have finally narrowed it down to my top, or should that be bottom, three books of 2008.
Coming in at number 3, the most boring book I read this year was L A Banks' Minion. How Banks manages to make a vampire huntress action adventure dull I don’t know. But she does. This book makes it no higher (or should that be lower) on my list because I read it with no expectations and so I was disappointed rather than annoyed.
At number 2, with possibly the worst ending to a book ever, was M J Rose, The Reincarnationist - A Novel of Suspense. I enjoy reincarnation as a plot device and could have forgiven a lot in my desire to like this book but somehow Rose manages to take a fascinating premise and turn it into a flat, convoluted mess. Going into this book actively favourable to its content yet still finding it annoyed the crap out of me, earns this book its number 2 position.
And with the dubious honour of being the worst book I read this year, coming in at number 1 was Allan Massie's Arthur the King. I am a fan of all things Arthurian and couldn’t count the number of retellings of the legends that I have read, from a wide variety of perspectives and with some wild interpretations. I am fairly forgiving of flaws in Arthurian works. I can tolerate a lot in the name of a new Arthurian variation. But I couldn’t even finish this book. When writing is so bad that I walk away from one of my favourite subjects that book deserves the title of Worst Of My Reading List for the Year.
Choosing a best book of the year was no easier. As I scanned my reading list there were several titles that brought a fond smile of remembrance to my lips but not many that had me thinking I would be sorry if I missed reading this book.
Naturally the superlative Kerry Greenwood’s Phryne Fisher series features highly on my best books list but I have decided that the best book I read in 2008 was Phil Rickman’s December. While it was not perfect, indeed in some ways it was quite lacking, it was the one book that I recall coming to the end of and wishing wasn’t over quite yet.