28 Novels Read in 2025

The good old books

I finished reading 28 novels this year. There are 27 listed below, because the 28th is an unpublished one by someone who asked me to help edit it. In addition, I started to read and then stopped reading several novels, notably George Eliot’s Middlemarch, which I got 25% of the way through, then waited six-plus months, and then started over from the beginning, and I’m now about 13% of the way through. It’s funny to come across highlighted passages and be like, “What did this mean to me?” In any case, I’ve found a through line of interest, and even if Eliot’s attention to courtship gets monotonous, I trust I’ll finish it in 2026. Moby Dick and Blood Meridian, both of which I did complete, were part of an ongoing attempt to tackle classics I haven’t dug much in the past, the same process that got me into Middlemarch. I got through those two, but I can’t say they particularly registered with me. Two of the novels listed here are re-reads: Cryptonomicon (my fourth time through) and The Good Soldier (for the first time since my teens). I may have read The Talented Mr. Ripley previously, decades back, but even if so I had zero particular memory of it this time around. I read the first of the two Elmer Kelton books because I read True Grit, by Charles Portis, last year and then was making my way through the absurdly nihilistic Blood Meridian this year, and recognized I had never read a “real” western, and asked a friend to recommend several. After reading, and really digging, one Kelton, I immediately read a second. I’ve put + signs next to a selection of books I particularly recommend, though take those with a grain of salt. If you ask me in a few months, the recommendations will likely shift.

  • C.S. Lewis — The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
  • Jakob Kerr — Dead Money
  • + Neal Stephenson — Cryptonomicon
  • Ford Madox Ford — The Good Soldier
  • Cory Doctorow — Walkaway
  • Ali Smith — Autumn
  • + Joan Didion — Play It as It Lays
  • + Adrian Tchaikovsky — Children of Time
  • Michael Connelly — The Black Echo (Bosch Vol. 1)
  • Stephen King — The Long Walk
  • Patricia Highsmith — The Talented Mr. Ripley
  • Michael Connelly — The Black Ice (Bosch, Vol. 2)
  • Sandro Veronesi — The Hummingbird
  • Marie-Helene Bertino — Beautyland
  • C. A. Higgins — Lightness
  • Ray Nayler  — The Mountain in the Sea
  • Elmer Kelton — The Day the Cowboys Quit
  • + Elmer Kelton — The Good Old Boys
  • + Rudy Rucker — Software
  • + Mick Herron — Clown Town
  • + Laurie Colwin — Goodbye Without Leaving
  • Herman Melville — Moby Dick
  • Cormac McCarthy — Blood Meridian
  • Ian McEwan — What We Can Know
  • Sarah Gailey — Spread Me
  • Jon Fosse — Morning and Evening
  • Jinwoo Park — Oxford Soju Club

The above doesn’t include non-fiction or graphic novels, which I track less closely. Maybe I’ll be more attentive to documenting those reads in 2026.

Edge of the World / End of the Year

Looking out

Likely the last hike of the year, given the imminent rain. Up and down Mori Point, where it’s unclear when the rock ends and the dirt begins. Then some fine ramen for dinner, followed by an old Agnès Varda movie, Cléo from 5 to 7 (1962), I’d never seen before. Watched at home on the TV, yeah, but start to finish, never hit pause once. Absolutely fantastic sound. There’s a scene early on when the title protagonist enters a cafe, and between the street noise and the interior cacophony, a vehicle is heard passing by, and it’s like a strip of ribbon covers the seam of the transition. Later, she exits a building and there’s a little boy banging at the curb on a tiny toy piano. The score then fades in, and its rattling arrangement clearly adopts the child’s playing. Those are just two moments among myriad in a remarkable film.

Oh, That Pae White

In San Jose

I only just made the connection that the artist Pae White whose 12,000-disc sculpture currently hovers above the entrance just inside the San Jose Museum of Art is the Pae White of the “Pae White’s non-blank graphic metacard” from the Oblique Strategies deck created by Brian Eno and Peter Schmidt. The museum piece is titled Noisy Blushes and was made between 2019 and 2020.

Perhaps This Site’s Top 10 in 2025

Not counting older posts that persistently pop up

This website, now 29 years of age, gets so frequently barraged by bots that I can’t speak to the veracity or meaningfulness of its traffic data. However, if there is any truth to be discerned from the data, then the following 10 posts were, best I can tell, the most viewed new ones in 2025. On the one hand, I could wait a few more days, until the formal end of this year on Wednesday, to ascertain the exact full list. On the other hand, by posting these now, I’ll end up just buttressing their collective standing. I don’t look at traffic data much at all (this was the second time this year), because I’m not aiming to “optimize a content strategy,” but it was intriguing to see what has garnered particular attention.

1: The title says it all in this one: “The CarPlay App I’ve Been Waiting For”

2: My first visit to the jazz club Mr. Tipple’s in San Francisco. I’ve been back several times since.

3: One of several comics I’ve done with Hannes Pasqualini to make this list: “Audiobook”

4: Another Pasqualini: “Binaural”

5: And another: “Legacy”

6: An experiment with the M8 Tracker

7: “Window” with Pasqualini

8: An update of the great Brian Eno / Peter Chilvers app Bloom

9: That time I fiddled with Cory Arcangel’s source code

10: Another bit on the M8 Tracker

Scratch Pad: My Diesel-Powered Laptop

From the past week

At the end of each week, I usually collate a lightly edited collection of recent comments I’ve made on social media, which I think of as my public scratch pad — and I tag on what books I may have finished reading. Knowing I’ll revisit my social media posts, I’ve found, serves as a positive and mellowing influence on my online activity. I mostly hang out on Mastodon (at post.lurk.org/@disquiet), and I’m also trying out a few others. And I generally take weekends off social media.

Right now, though, I’m on a more extended social media (and adjacent) break, through the start of January 2026. (This is my next to last weekend before I get back on that horse.) Which raises the question: when I’m on such a hiatus, what constitutes this site’s Scratch Pad, since this Saturday habit is, by definition, a collation of stuff I posted to social media throughout the given previous week? Apparently it’s random notes I make to myself that I would have posted online, plus bits I’ve sent to friends via email and other means. Just because I’ve stopped posting doesn’t mean my brain has stopped making posts. Anyhow, here’s this past week’s roundup:

▰ As the year was coming to a close, I cleared out my RSS reader, setting back to zero thousands of unread posts that had accumulated. I didn’t erase the ones I marked to read later.

▰ The substation near our home is still not functioning, so there are tons of temporary generators a few blocks away, and they run on diesel. This means that my home computer is currently diesel-powered. Which I kinda like the idea of.

▰ I’ve been posting a lot of short field recordings at freesound.org/people/disquiet. Another participant there expressed concern to me that I was applying geolocation data to what was, in fact, indoor audio. I feel there is some meaning encoded in whether a bathroom fan is recorded in, say, the Mission in San Francisco or Ginza in Tokyo, but I didn’t want to argue the point, so I removed the data — at least for now.

▰ Another year in which Criterion celebrates room tone … by playing music over the room tone.

▰ Been playing a lot of board games (notably Botany) and card games (e.g., Compile, A Gentle Rain, Big Sur, Point City, Exploding Kittens) over the holiday break. I need to understand what it means to have several games with similar underlying mechanics, like the very fun Point City and Big Sur (and I’m considering getting Air, Land & Sea, which reportedly is a strong precursor to the truly excellent Compile). I imagine it’s a lot like with book genres: I only need to read one zombie novel a year, and one high fantasy novel every few years, and one “literary novel featuring overeducated people falling out of love” as infrequently as possible, but I can mainline certain realms of science fiction, and manage reams of spy novels and experimental fiction.

▰ I have a feeling that Jinwoo Park’s Oxford Soju Club — a flashback-rich, cross-cultural spy thriller, with a hefty serving of Korean recipes — is the last novel, my 27th, I will finish reading in 2025. Late December is deep family time, leaving limited opportunity for reading. Also, the books I’m in the midst of are pretty lengthy. We’ll see.