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At the start of this little book reading exercise I said I’d keep it up for a ‘year, or however long.’ Well, it’s been a year. No, really it has. The first birthday post for this blog passed by a little quickly (distractions, y’know), so I figure I’m allowed one slightly self-indulgent ‘retrospective’ post. Look at it like this: at least it means you won’t have to wade through any of this crap come the end of December.

Big question first: was it worth it? Yeah, I reckon. I won’t pretend that I’ve had any searing insights or epiphanies as a result of doing these book posts, but the original plan to make me read more and think more seems to have worked.

In the last twelve months I’ve read 66 books. However, if we take out the comics which, with a couple of exceptions, I can generally read in about half an hour or so, the final number is a slightly less imposing 49. Of these 49, 13 were non-fiction, 16 were speculative fiction, and 12½ were written by women (1 anthology, you see). Which puts me 4 ahead of Peter Greenaway, if nothing else.

Never seen it.

Looking back on the complete list of authors though, it’s noticeable that it’s very heavily skewed towards white men. Hmm. That doesn’t indicate the quality (or lack thereof) of any individual book of course, but it doesn’t really speak to a wide or diverse range of perspectives for me as a reader either. Especially given the ‘think more’ part of this little project.

So something of a resolution for this coming year then: More women (binders full of them, in fact), more works in translation, and basically books and authors from a more varied range of backgrounds. As ever, I’m open to recommendations.

But, in the meantime: awards! Watch as I dish out (virtual) crappy perspex statuettes which all look undeniably phallic to an audience composed of people’s agents and publicists because the big names were all ‘on location’ or stuck attending a prior commitment they just ‘couldn’t get out of.’ I doubt many of you care, either. Well, tough.

With no fanfare whatsoever my best book of the year was –

Pure - Andrew Miller

There. That wasn’t so painful now, was it? I realize I should have taken my time opening the envelope so the director could get a good long shot of the nominees looking nervous, or, if they’re Japanese, praying for no explicable reason. But fuck it. It was a great book and all the better because I didn’t expect to like it nearly as much as I did.

However, being fun to read doesn’t necessarily mean a book will be fun to read about. Or write about, for that matter. With that in mind (and here’s the really self-indulgent part), here’s a recap of my favourite book posts. The ones I had most fun writing, or the ones I feel most smug about when reviewing them in one of my regular orgies of self-congratulatory onanism.

Hi! My Name is Loco and I am a Racist – Baye McNeil

Paprika – Yasutaka Tsutsui

A Storm of Swords – George R.R. Martin

A Visit From The Goon Squad – Jennifer Egan

Who Fears Death – Nnedi Okorafor

vN – Madeline Ashby

You’ll notice all those posts tend to dwell on the more negative aspects of the books in question. The thing is though, I liked all of them (except Paprika), and I’d happily recommend any one of them to a friend as a worthwhile use of their time (except Paprika). The sum experience of reading each book was, on balance, a positive one (except Paprika, but even then I get to bitch about it for comic effect so it’s not a total bust).

No fruit of human endeavour is ever perfect and if you were of a mind you could find flaws and things to criticize in even the best works. So why so serious? Part of it is probably a vague effort to demonstrate that I’ve still got some sort of critical chops and can actually go into a bit of depth every once in a while. Part of it is definitely the ‘princess and the pea’ issue; where flaws are more noticeable if they occur in otherwise beautiful environments, and each one of those books is beautiful in its own way (except etc…).

Disconcertingly, after saying I should make an effort to read more books by authors who aren’t white men, five of those six are exactly that. And the one post that isn’t is less about the book and more about girls in bikinis. I’m not sure if that means I’m judging these books more harshly than I otherwise might, or if I’m more invested in them and thus paying them the (possibly back-handed) compliment of greater thought and examination, or if it’s just a statistical fluke. Double Hmm.

As a number of the more Japan related blogs I read seem to be slowing down recently, for reasons I’m only too sympathetic towards, I’ve been spending a bit more of my limited time online on book related sites. I’ve been umming and ahhing about a spin-off blog for the book posts. Or maybe the Japan posts. Or the cakes. I know some of you have gone down that route before, so I’d be interested in hearing how it’s worked for you.

Not that it’d change my mind, of course, I’d just be interested. I’m going to keep things as they are for a number of reasons, the first of which is that I enjoy it. Given that, the subsequent reasons don’t matter (but if you really care: barely time to maintain one blog, let alone two; would feel like I’d have to do ‘proper’ reviews for everything and can’t be fagged; get bugger all traffic at the best of times and half of fuck-all is still fuck-all). It might seem a touch confused and lacking for real purpose, but that’s not a completely inaccurate reflection of the rest of my life so it’s all to the good.

But the band’s playing increasingly loudly and the producer’s screaming in my earpiece about cutting to commercials so I’ll wrap it up here. Now we can all go to an after-party, get shitfaced, and insult a politician in a self-consciously transparent attempt to prove we’re still edgy and relevant.

Thank you and goodnight.

Credit where it's due.