The Best Adult and Young Adult Fiction I Read in 2024

If it’s good for young adults (older teens) it’s probably good for adults, too, and vice-versa. So, these are the adult fiction books I really enjoyed in 2024. (Links are to reviews here at Semicolon)

  • Joy in the Morning by P.G. Wodehouse. I read this one for Cindy Rollins’ summer course. Wodehouse is always good and funny and just all-around delightful.
  • Flambards, The Edge of the Cloud, and Flambards in Summer by K.M. Peyton. I’ve wanted to re-read these British young adult romance/horse books for a long time, and I finally found copies this year and read them. Just about as good as I remembered them to be.
  • The Small House at Allington by Anthony Trollope. I read a lot of Trollope in 2024, and I’m reading another book by Trollope now in the first days of 2025. Almost as good as Dickens and Thackeray.
  • Can You Forgive Her? by Anthony Trollope.
  • Stateless by Elizabeth Wein. Pair this book about the early days of aviation with the Flambards trilogy. They are all good.
  • The Swedish Nightingale: Jenny Lind by Elisabeth Kyle. A lightly fictionalized biography of the famous singer.
  • Girl With a Pen: Charlotte Bronte by Elisabeth Kyle. Another fictionalized biography, but mostly factual. And clean. And not iconoclastic or deconstructionist.
  • Pastures of the Blue Crane by H.F. Brinsmead. An Australian classic.

That’s it. I read a lot of thrillers by Ruth Ware and by Susan Hill (Simon Serraillier series) and by Ann Cleves and by Robert Galbraith (J.K. Rowling’s Cormoran Strike series), but I can’t really recommend any of them. They were all to some extent gritty with bad language and horrific crimes and bad language. I think it’s time I gave up on that genre.

I Cheerfully Refuse by Leif Enger

My eldest daughter saw this book on my bedside table and asked to take it home and read it. So she read Leif Enger’s newest novel before I even opened it. When she brought it back I asked her how it was, and she said, “Well, it’s good, but it’s rather dark.”

Dark indeed. I Cheerfully Refuse is the story of a man, Rainy, who becomes a fugitive, innocent of any crime, but pursued by a villainous lawman in a dystopian world that has traded law and order for despotism and chaos. It was unclear to me whether nuclear war or climate change or something else or a combination of things made the setting, in and around Lake Superior in Michigan and Canada, so degraded and oppressive. However, something happened to the country and then something else to Rainy in particular, and Rainy is caught in a hellish predicament, not of his own making. So he sets sail in a dilapidated old sailboat to escape the bad guys and find the good.

It is a doomed quest, but Rainy doesn’t give up. He meets with people and situations both good and evil in his journey. And (SPOILER ALERT), he does, after much suffering, win through to a semi-hopeful ending. There’s a bit of magical realism and some futuristic dystopian fantasy as the story winds through the islands and shores of Lake Superior. The plot, however, is not the best part of the book. It’s the words. Mr. Enger is a master at manipulating and communicating with words. He verbs a few of the nouns, and nouns some adjectives and verbs, and mixes up the syntax and casually drops in the metaphors and similes just enough to keep a reader on her toes, reading carefully and slowly, and going back to savor and make sure I didn’t miss something along the journey.

Enger in this book writes lovely sentences like these:

“You’re a man who stops and listens. If that’s not the definition of friendship, it’s close enough for now.”

“Words are one way we leave tracks in the world, Sol. Maybe one day you will write a book, like Olaus did, or Molly Thorn. And people will read it, like I’ve been reading to you. And they will know that you were here, and a little about what you were like.”

“. . . our job always and forever was to refuse Apocalypse in all its forms and work cheerfully against it.”

“[I]t began to resemble what I once imagined church might be like, a church you could bear, where people laughed and enjoyed each other and did not care if they were right all the time or if other people were wrong.”

“One shelf became two. Then a wall. Then eight-foot rolling racks from a shut library in Hayward, Wisconsin. Maudie suggested changing the shop name to reflect its inventory. Bread and Books. Loaves and Lit. Pulp and Provender. Lark laughed off the idea. She said all of it was bread.”

So, I Cheerfully Refuse is a good book, but dark. In times of chaos and uncertainty and change, it might be good to read a book about man living through similar (but much worse) times. Or it might not. I enjoyed the book, but your mileage and ability to stay cheerful may vary.

“I am always last to see the beauty I inhabit.”

The Best Nonfiction I Read in 2024

I see that none of these nonfiction books is a biography, although a couple are memoirs and some are biographical, telling a part of the life of one or more persons. A couple of the books are rather controversial, but I found those to be readable and true to my own experience of life in these controversial and adversarial times. I recommend all of the above, but The Three Owls by New York City librarian Anne Carroll Moore was the most comforting and illuminating of the dozen books, taking me out of this time and place to a children’s literature culture of 100 years ago. If we can’t recapture or recreate those times and that culture, we can at least live in them for a little while by reading about the books of that era. The Three Owls: Third Book is a compilation of “contemporary criticism of children’s books, 1927-1930, written and edited by Anne Carroll Moore.” I would very much like to own books 1 and 2 as well.

Links are to reviews here at Semicolon or elsewhere. Starred books are available for library patrons to borrow from Meriadoc Homeschool Library.

The Best Middle Grade Fiction I read in 2024: A Baker’s Dozen

My children’s fiction reading this year has been influenced a lot by two projects: my project to read and evaluate current day middle grade fiction published in 2024 and my other project to read and evaluate the middle grade fiction of 60 years ago, published in 1964. I found more gold in ’64 than I did in 2024, but there were a few good ones from this past year. I also spent a lot of time with one particular children’s author from the past who deserved all of the awards he received. Links are to reviews of the books here at Semicolon or at Plumfield and Paideia.

Indeed, it was the year of good books from 1964, and the year of Meindert DeJong. If you’ve not read any of DeJong’s award-winning books, and if you like animal stories, you should definitely try one of Mr. DeJong’s heart-warming tales.

Shakespeare: The Man Who Pays the Rent by Judi Dench and Brendan O’Hea

Over the course of four years, actor and director Brendan O’Hea and his good friend, actress Judi Dench, met regularly to discuss the Shakespeare plays in which she had performed, as well as a few she had directed. This book, drawn from transcripts of those conversations, features Dame Judi Dench sharing stories, anecdotes, and some playful gossip—mostly at her own expense. While her humor often focuses on her own quirks and missteps, the primary focus of the book is on the plays themselves, the characters she portrayed, and the timeless poetry of Shakespeare—the man who, as Dench notes, has “paid the rent” for countless actors over the years.

If you are a fan of Shakespeare, whether you are familiar with all or just some of his plays, you will find much to love and ponder in this memoir. It reflects a lifetime spent interpreting and performing his works. While readers may choose either to overlook or enjoy Ms. Dench’s irreverent humor and occasional coarse language, it’s worth noting her irreverence and sexual frankness reflect that of Shakespeare himself. And Judi Dench displays a true belief in Shakespeare’s genius—his mastery of the English language and his ability to write plays that resonate across time and cultures.

Shakespeare: The Man Who Pays the Rent is not your typical celebrity memoir. Rather, it serves as a thoughtful treatise on acting, especially when it comes to interpreting Shakespeare’s characters. Dench offers valuable insights into the intricacies of the roles she has played, demonstrating that she has deeply engaged with the text, carefully considering its meaning and its implications. The interviews also provide a rich personal history of British theater during the time Dench has been active (1957-2024), shedding light on the roles and productions that shaped her career. Her range as an actress is staggering, with memorable performances in both major and minor roles, including Ophelia in Hamlet, Lady Macbeth, Katharine in Henry V, Juliet in Romeo and Juliet, Adriana in The Comedy of Errors, Beatrice in Much Ado About Nothing, Cleopatra in Antony and Cleopatra, and many more.

The book is filled with humor, particularly when Dench recounts her onstage mishaps—like the many times she fell unexpectedly or almost came onstage without her skirt. There’s also the incident where she sneezed while playing Juliet, during a scene where she was supposed to be dead—or at least feigning death. But the memoir is also deeply poignant, as Dench reflects on, or rather refuses to discuss, her fear of death, and tells how Shakespeare’s works have helped her process the grief of losing her husband, actor Michael Williams, and other theater friends. Some of these friends even have trees planted in her garden in their honor.

Published in 2024, when Dench was 80 years old, the book captures her in her seventies, still actively working in theater and film. She mentions her struggles with failing eyesight, yet she refuses to let this or any other obstacle deter her from continuing her career and growing as an artist. It’s Dench’s perspective, a blend of maturity, childlike wonder, humor, gratitude, and deep love for Shakespeare, that makes this memoir such a joy to read.

This book is recommended for adults who love Shakespeare, theater, or Judi Dench’s remarkable acting career. I read the book in a hardcover edition from the public library, but it is also available as an audiobook, read by Brendan O’Hea and Barbara Flynn (as Judi Dench). Content considerations include some language, explicit sexual jokes, innuendo, and adult themes.

Mystery in the Night Woods by John Peterson

I went to a library book sale a couple of months ago, and I found eight or ten old Scholastic paperbacks for sale for fifty cents apiece. I grabbed them all with plans to read them and see if they would fit into my library. Mystery in the Night Woods definitely makes the grade.

However, let’s deal with the possibly offensive parts first. Flying Squirrel, aka F.S., and his friend Bat are introduced in the first chapter, and right away we can tell that F.S. is a proud and self-centered squirrel. He tells Bat, “When I do something, I want to do it the best!” and “that’s why I’m a success!” So, it’s no surprise that when F.S. falls for Miss Owl and asks her to marry him, he is not willing to take “no” for an answer.

It is a bit disconcerting to present-day sensitivities to discover what F.S. does about his unrequited love for Miss Owl. He kidnaps her and refuses to let her go until she promises to marry him. This abduction is the part that a couple of Amazon reviewers found offensive, but I didn’t read it that way. Of course, the kidnapping is wrong, indeed criminal, but Miss Owl is for the most part unharmed. F.S. is arrested, sentenced by the Night Court, and made to pay for his crime. And eventually he becomes a much more humble and helpful squirrel.

So, it’s a story of “pride goeth before a fall” and “crime doesn’t pay” and “all’s well that ends well.” I believe in repentance and forgiveness as well as justice, and that’s what the book models with anthropomorphic animal characters. I daresay had the characters been human adults doing the same things, my take would have been different. But really, a lovesick flying squirrel kidnaps an innocent Miss Owl, but then repents and helps solve a mystery and foil a major crime spree? It feels like something from the cartoons that entertained me on my childhood Saturday mornings.

“Weasel stuck his head out of the window and whistled. A dark cloud came out and floated past him. Bat looked on from his hiding place. He could hardly believe what he had seen. What was the dark cloud? Where did it go? Bat was sure of only one thing–Weasel was up to something crooked again.”

And there you have the teaser for the rest of the story. It’s a good mystery for the 8-10 year old crowd. Leave it at that. I wouldn’t pay a lot for the book, especially since it’s only available in a paperback edition published in 1969. MY copy happens to be in very good condition, but it won’t last forever. Still, if you come across it, pick it up and give to a child you know who is not too jaded to enjoy a simple animal story mystery.

John Peterson was a successful children’s author who published quite a few best-selling books including Terry’s Treasure Hunt, The Secret Hide-Out, Enemies of the Secret Hide-Out, and the series of books about The Littles, a tiny family who live in the walls of a human-size family’s house. Cyndy Szekeres, the illustrator for Mystery in the Night Woods, is well known for her tiny animal illustrations, and the ones in this book are charming.

Patron families can check this book out from Meriadoc Homeschool Library.

2024 Middle Grade Fiction–Not Recommended

Here’s a list of 2024 middle grade fiction books that I’ve read or partially read and do NOT recommend, for various reasons, mostly because they contain gratuitous and unhelpful sexual references, lies about gender and sexuality, crude language and/or just bad writing:

  • Shark Teeth by Sherri Winston
  • The Secret Library by Kekla Magoon
  • A Game of Noctis by Deva Fagan
  • Impossible Creatures by Katherine Rundell
  • Unstuck by Barbara Dee
  • Keep It Like a Secret by John David Anderson
  • The Wrong Way Home by Kate O’Shaughnessy
  • The Misunderstandings of Charity Brown by Elizabeth Laird
  • Jamie by L.D. Lapinski
  • Gooseberry by Robin Gow
  • Linus and Etta Could Use a Win by Caroline Huntoon
  • Murray Out of Water by Tracy Taylor
  • Crushing It by Erin Becker
  • The Truth About Triangles by Michael Leali
  • Puzzleheart by Jenn Reese
  • Tig by Heather Smith
  • Max in the House of Spies by Adam Gidwitz
  • Splinter & Ash by Marieke Nijkamp

Faker by Gordon Korman

What would it be like to grow up with a conman for a father? A conman who swindles your friends’ families out of large sums of money and convinces you that it’s all just part of “the family business”?

In Faker, Gordon Korman, a prolific middle-grade novelist, explores this intriguing premise through the eyes of Trey, a young boy who has been hustling people with his dad and younger sister for as long as he can remember. The family moves from town to town, conning wealthy people out of their money, and then disappearing when the heat gets too intense. As soon as things start to unravel, Trey’s dad calls a “Houdini”—a quick escape—and they vanish, only to reappear later in a new place with a new scheme.

Despite the fact that this is a story about a family of criminals, Korman does a good job of showing that Trey is more than just a product of his environment. As the story progresses, Trey begins to question the rationale his father has always fed him about their lifestyle, grappling with his maturing conscience. I also appreciated that Trey’s father, while clearly a thief, isn’t painted as entirely villainous. He’s a complex character: a criminal with a good heart. In fact, he might be a bit too good a dad to be entirely believable, but this adds to the book’s emotional appeal.

As I read, I found myself thinking, “This is not going to end well,” especially when Trey’s dad uses him and his sister to establish relationships with the wealthy parents of their schoolmates. But Korman manages to craft a surprisingly hopeful conclusion, one that, while somewhat improbable, avoids the darker turn the story might have taken. While the book offers some redemption and resolution, the narrative doesn’t shy away from difficult questions about right and wrong. Trey may come to understand the ethics of his actions, but his father’s repentance and reformation remain more ambiguous.

If you’re looking for a squeaky-clean story with no lying, stealing, or moral dilemmas, Faker is not the book for you. However, if you’re looking for a thought-provoking story that raises important questions about ethics, theft, and deception, this is a great choice. The book offers an opportunity to discuss complex topics like whether it’s okay to steal from the rich, the nature of heroes and villains, and whether criminals deceive themselves about their own motives. Pairing Faker with a version of the Robin Hood stories would make for some excellent discussions about the ethics of stealing from the rich and living outside the law.

Library Girl by Polly Horvath

I came across a critique of this story about an eleven-year-old girl, Essie, who has been raised by four librarian mothers in a public library. The critic argued that the story wasn’t believable. Well, of course it’s not. This isn’t a realistic, middle-grade problem novel; it’s a whimsical and exaggerated fairy tale with some real truths mixed in.

“Essie has grown up in the public library, raised in secret by the four librarians who found her abandoned as a baby in the children’s department. With four mothers and miles of books to read, Essie has always been very happy living there.”

Now that she’s eleven, her mothers decide it’s time for Essie to experience the world outside the library and gain some independence. They give her a Saturday allowance (like in The Saturdays by Elizabeth Enright) and set boundaries for her exploration. But as Essie makes new friends—possibly enemies, too—including a boy named G.E., she begins to uncover surprising truths about herself and her past.

This book is a mixed bag. I enjoyed the references to children’s literature throughout; they were a fun touch. However, some of the books Essie reads or hears about, like Slaughterhouse-Five, are wildly inappropriate for an eleven-year-old. There’s a recurring theme of the freedom to read without censorship, which is one of the more realistic aspects of the story, especially given today’s library culture.

The narrative is generally clean, though there are a couple of instances where God’s name is taken in vain, which were unnecessary and spoiled the tone. That said, the story remains relatively wholesome. There’s a fair amount of deception and secrecy, but ultimately, the truth comes out. It’s amusing to watch Essie navigate the world of candy shops, novelty stores, and department stores when she’s never really experienced them firsthand, having only read about them in books.

And what about those “real truths”? After some misunderstandings and a bit of trauma, the characters do reach a happy ending—more or less. There are consequences to the characters’ bad and foolish choices, but the consequences are not too severe. Even the villain, Mrs. Matterhorn, the legalistic librarian who wants to kick Essie out of the library, finds her own place in a library that suits her better.

But this is also a story about how real life isn’t like a story. Not all characters undergo perfect transformations. The past can’t be changed, and the poor choices of the past do affect the present. Some characters remain flawed, and not every problem is neatly resolved. In the end, the story acknowledges that life is messy, and sometimes, the answers we seek aren’t so clear-cut, even after everything is revealed.

The Swedish Nightingale: Jenny Lind by Elisabeth Kyle

Published in 1964. Biographical novelist Elisabeth Kyle published two books in 1964: Girl With a Pen: Charlotte Brontë, which I read and reviewed earlier this year, and this novel about the life of nineteenth century singer and celebrity Jenny Lind. Kyle also wrote several other “biographical novels,” including works about Joan of Arc, Mary Stuart, Mary of Orange, Queen Victoria, Clara and Robert Schumann, Edvard and Nina Grieg, and Charles Dickens, as well as numerous regular novels for both adults and children. If anyone has read any of her other books, I’d love to hear your thoughts. These two that I read were quite engaging and would be well-suited for voracious teen readers looking for clean, absorbing stories about real people.

As for Jenny Lind, the movie The Greatest Showman did her a great disservice. If she were still alive, I would advise her to sue for defamation of character. The real Jenny Lind was a deeply devout Christian who would never have tried to seduce P.T. Barnum, as the film implied. She was known for her “golden voice” by all who heard her sing, and she was a celebrity in the modern sense—hounded by fans and people eager to exploit her talent, including Barnum himself. Over the course of her career, Jenny Lind made a significant amount of money, most of which she generously gave away to family and charity.

I thoroughly enjoyed reading Kyle’s biography of Jenny Lind. In this portrayal, Jenny is depicted as strong-willed (her friends even use reverse psychology to guide her decisions), yet also kind and generous. Her childhood was tumultuous, with parents who were both neglectful and overbearing , yet after her career takes off, Jenny supports them by buying them a house. Though she initially resists leaving Sweden, she eventually travels to France for singing lessons, and later performs in England and America, including on the famous P.T. Barnum tour.

Jenny Lind herself was a fascinating mix of contradictions: talented yet shy, a child prodigy who almost lost her ability to sing in her early twenties, confident on stage but plagued by stage fright before every performance. She was plain in appearance but transformed by her voice into a beautiful star who attracted numerous admirers, including Hans Christian Andersen and Felix Mendelssohn. Over time, she reconciled all of these contradictions, eventually giving up her singing career to marry and settle in England with her husband and children.

Though Kyle only briefly mentions it, Jenny’s strong Christian faith seemed to be a key factor in preventing her from becoming a spoiled diva. It’s a shame the filmmakers behind The Greatest Showman either didn’t see—or chose to ignore—this aspect of Jenny Lind’s life and character. Jenny Bicks, one of the screenwriters for The Greatest Showman (and a writer for Sex and the City), was likely part of the reason the film’s portrayal of Jenny Lind strayed so far from reality.

In any case, Elisabeth Kyle does a much more faithful job of novelizing Jenny Lind’s story. I wonder how she would have portrayed P.T. Barnum if she had written a book about him?