As end-of-year book-buying approaches for ourselves and our loved ones, here is a thread of books I loved this year:

2020 started with @Kapka_Kassabova's *stunning* To the Lake. Like all her books, it is a powerful, moving reflection on place, memory, and legacies of violence.

The book I have most given as a gift this year is Handiwork by Sara Baume.

It is partly about making (things, art, homes, memories), and partly about loss.

All of it is gentle and poignant, as I've come to expect from Baume & @TrampPress.

Eliane Brum's The Collector of Leftover Souls @GrantaBooks was a great companion in thinking about the ethics & power of storytelling.

"To be a good listener, I need to relinquish control. So I just say: 'Tell me…' And it’s surprising where people begin telling their story."

All of my favorite novels this year featured sharp portrayals of work, grief, and navigating how to be in the world.

Among these sparkling texts: Writers and Lovers by Lily King; Breasts and Eggs by Mieko Kawakami (translated by Sam Bett& David Boyd); Want by Lynn Steger Strong.

I spent much of the summer reading Alejandro Zambra. His short stories reflect both the whimsy of childhood and the echoes of violence, and I find the combination so full of vivacity and heart-ache.

Start with My Documents, translated by Megan McDowell @FitzcarraldoEds.

On a year when I found myself missing Colombia, I was grateful Margarita García Robayo had a new book.

Before diving into Holiday Heart, I re-read her collection Fish Soup ( @charcopress, translated by Charlotte Coombe), featuring some of my favorite writing about Colombia.

Thank goodness that 2020 came with great poetry collections.

I cherished @SamuelTongue's Sacrifice Zones, @seanehewitt's Tongues of Fire, and Postcolonial Love Poem by Natalie Díaz.

If you don't yet know @duanalla's podcast Poetry Unbound, consider it a gift to yourself.

I was drawn to non-fiction that paid close attention to the world and did so with a sense of whimsy.

In that vein, I *loved* Tiny Moons by @ninamingya on food, home, and nostalgia ( @TheEmmaPress) and Jim Crumley's many nature books ( @SarabandBooks)–especially Barn Owl.

Of the books I read for research and teaching, I was most moved by those that offer an imagination of how to live in a violent, unjust world.

Among them: @lolaolufemi_'s Feminism, Interrupted; Christina Sharpe's In the Wake; Saidiya Hartman's Wayward Lives Beautiful Experiments.

In an attempt to root myself where I am, I read a lot about Scotland.

I learned a lot about land and an ethic of care from Alastair McIntosh's Soil and Soul.

I also loved so many of the essays about nature, place, and environment in Antlers of Water, edited by @KathleenJamie.

Just yesterday, I finished Bahar Orang's Where Things Touch: A Meditation on Beauty–and it more than lived up to its name.

I loved this slim book on intimacy, flowers, queerness, the practice of medicine, and beauty as the practice of care. @bookhugpress

When I can, I buy books from my favorite indie bookshops. Closer to me, @GoldenHareBooks @Lighthousebks @PortyBooks have online shops and ship UK-wide.

Near my former home, I still love @HarvardBooks @booksmithtweets @PorterSqBooks. They need our support more than ever.

There were moments this year when I struggled to read. There were also moments when deep comfort, company, and insight came from books. I am making my peace with both.

However your reading went this year, let's celebrate being alive in this wild world.

If you need a book recommendation for you or a loved one, leave me a note and I'll do my best. You can also follow "roxanireads" on Instagram, where I share some slightly more detailed reviews.

It's been a hard enough year. At the moment, I'm only sharing what I love.