
I have a confession to make. I am, unabashedly, a book nerd. Interests and passions come and go over the course of a lifetime, but I can easily say that reading books has been tops for me since I can remember. Even as a wee lass, I preferred the company of my fictional friends to real humans. The eminent Charles William Eliot said it best, “ Books are the quietest and most constant of friends; they are the most accessible and wisest of counsellors, and the most patient of teachers.”
Quite right.
As I’ve gotten older and the world has gotten crazier, I take more comfort and pleasure in books than ever before. And boy oh boy, has the world gotten crazy. I feel like 2025 was the year we all jumped into the handbasket and took books with us. This year I discovered the dark side of BookTok and BookTube, something called performative reading, and because it’s the internet – a “safe” space for us all to be downright and anonymously nasty to each other – book shaming.
Seriously, people?
Pretending to read in public to appear more intelligent? Boasting about the number of books you have read specifically to shame other readers? Publicly criticizing other readers for reading too much? (No such thing as too much reading, by the way!) Insulting people for not reading the kinds of books YOU appreciate? Judging folks’ morality based on what they read or banning books outright?
Have we really slid this far down the totem pole of humanity? Yes, yes we have. What is wrong with us as a society that we can take something as innocent, as wholesome, as reading and wanting to share the joy that it brings with others and turn it into a toxic social media trend?
Reading should be a joyous pastime, a way to expand your mind, challenge your own thoughts and entertain yourself, not something to use as a “flex” (to quote the kids) or a way to publicly shame other people.
I enjoy watching videos on YouTube about books and have added many a tome to my TBR list (to be read, for those of you not hip with the lingo) based on the review of a favorite YouTuber. I’ve also chosen NOT to add the same creator’s book recommendations to my TBR because I know I won’t enjoy it. I have not nor will I ever leave snarky comments complaining about their selections, morality, or intellect. I will never judge other readers for picking up a book – any book – even if I don’t appreciate the genre. I will also not censor what I read – publicly or privately – to appear highfalutin. Reading is a deeply personal pursuit and any time a book is bought, borrowed, and cracked open to enjoy, it’s a win. Full stop.
Despite all of the negativity surrounding books and reading, 2025 was a banner year for me. I read (for me) a record number of books. I read books by long-familar and favorite authors and I picked up quite a few novels by authors that were new to me. Some of these books were fantastic. Some were…not so great. And there were about a half dozen or so that I just couldn’t finish.
I also learned something about myself over the course of the past twelve months. I really don’t enjoy reading books that take place in modern day. Especially now. I need and want to escape from the sheer insanity going on around the globe and reading a novel that includes all of the components of modern society is not something that I, personally, find helps me disconnect.
Which brings me, finally, to the whole point of this blog post. (Yes, there was a point and it wasn’t a bitter diatribe about the state of humanity.)
Too many hours of doomscrolling and reading about wars, unrest, economic uncertainty, and a seemingly constant barrage of just plain bad news made me think of the last time the world was engulfed in a never ending cloud of doom – the early 1940s. And I wondered…during a time of utter chaos and perpetual sadness, what were people reading? What did they choose to immerse themselves in when there was heartbreak abounding? What did they choose to spend their (extremely) hard earned money on during a time of rationing? What books got them through the dark days of the war?
So I went down a literary rabbit hole to find these answers and along the way decided that, in an attempt to retain some of my sanity in a world gone mad, I would turn back the page and read 1944.
For the new year, I decided to read 14 novels that were either published in or became best sellers in 1944. Seven books made it to number one on the New York Times Bestseller List and I will be reading all of them, at the time of year that they made it to the top spot. The other seven books all made it to the top five and spent more time on the Bestseller list than any others. Again, I will be reading them during the seasons that they were most popular.
I did not base my decisions on subject matter, author, length or any other criteria. Only after making my list did I look up any of the books. I must say that I am very much looking forward to reading them.
So, without further ado…here’s my 1944 reading list for the new year:
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith
The Apostle by Sholem Asch
So Little Time by John P. Marquand
The Lost Weekend by Charles Jackson
Strange Fruit by Lillian Smith
Bedford Village by Hervey Allen
A Bell for Adano by John Hersey
Leave Her to Heaven by Ben Ames Williams
The Razor’s Edge by Somerset Maugham
The History of Rome Hanks by Joseph S. Pennell
Immortal Wife by Irving Stone
Green Dolphin Street by Elizabeth Goudge
Forever Amber by Kathleen Winsor
The Green Years by A.J. Cronin
I’ll be starting 2026 with A Tree Grows in Brooklyn and hope you’ll read along with me. If not, be sure to check back soon for a full review of 1944’s best selling book.
In the meantime, happy reading and the happiest of new years!











