My Favorite Books of 2021

{And one new reading habit for 2022}

I’m hearing murmurings that the whole “word of the year” tradition is fading, but as it turns out, I can’t seem to quit. I’ve never been good about making (or keeping) resolutions. I’m notoriously bad at journaling. I’m not even particularly good at setting goals.

Even so, I adore a fresh start. I like the intentional reset. Despite evidence pointing to the contrary, I find myself looking for one simple thing to hold onto through whatever comes next. One word. Manageable. Memorable. It really does help me to focus.

I usually get my word stamped on a Mud Love bracelet. They’re waterproof and each one provides one week of clean water to a community in need. This year, I also had my word stamped on one of their gorgeous mugs. I’m obsessed with it! It took me forever to decide which color I wanted. Lots of good choices. The yellow seemed the most…imaginative. ;) I love the heft/feel/look, the sturdy handle, that rounded lip. It is everything a good mug should be, handmade by a small business in my local area. If you choose to order something, you can use the code SHANNAN22 through January for free shipping. (Also, I’m aware in this moment that I often include pictures of steaming mugs in these emails. It is a true simple delight on most of my days. Cozy vibes forever!)

It’s honestly hard to think about what 2022 might bring. We know too much now, don’t we? Two years ago, the word I chose was Shelter. Kid you not. I had it stamped on a MudLove bracelet and wore it every day. Two months later, the phrase “shelter in place,” something I had never in my life heard or conceived of, changed our lives forever. (I still feel mildly responsible.)

Last year, my word was Begin. And I did. I began writing a new book after a long hiatus. That sort of beginning can be terrifying almost to the point of paralysis for me. Begin. Amid the fear. Amid the limitations. I did it. The book is written. You’ll be hearing a lot more about it this year. (Release is October ‘22 and it will be here before we know it! As always you’ll get all the big news first.)

But 2021 was more than just that one word. It was harrowing. It was disorienting. In relentless, daily moments, it was hopeful. I learned the hard way how to make some peace with my anger, how to place it on the shelf sometimes, how loving and kind that choice can be for myself and my community. I learned that justice requires beauty, and sometimes the hunt would be more dimly lit.

This is the year I will create and protect the space to freely imagine the possibilities ahead. I mean this in the most optimistic sense. I was made a dreamer, and these last few years have done their best to beat it out of me. This year, I reclaim my curiosity. I reclaim my entitlement to ordinary delight.

I cannot see the train barreling towards us. I don’t know what it carries. (I don’t want to know.) But what I do know is that even as it screeches and whistles, I will stay curious and imaginative. I will look for possibility as I wait at its gates.

(As I typed that last sentence, the ever-present neighborhood train whistle blared, loud and clear. Very funny, 2022. I’m not afraid. I have actually learned to love the sound.)

As usual, I wrote a longer preamble than I intended to. Without further ado, here are my ten favorite books of the year, in no particular order.

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Top 10 Books of 2021

Abuelita Faith by Kat Armas

I pre-ordered Kat’s book the moment after I found out I could. (Pro-tip: this is a huge help to authors AND helps me not to forget to follow up later. Regardless of when you pre-order, it ships on release day.) Kat is a fellow Enneagram 8. She’s fierce in the gentlest way. Unafraid to say the true thing. This book arrived when I needed it most, after a spiritually dry and disorienting season. It follows the story and faith of her feisty Cuban abuela (grandma), teaching us to turn toward those with the least amount of power as we try to live in the way of Jesus. Kat’s gorgeous story-telling and theological rigor breathed life into the dusty places of my soul.

The Whole Language by Gregory Boyle

Okay. Somehow, this one snuck up on me. If you’ve followed me for long, you know Boyle’s first book, Tattoos on the Heart, is one of my lifetime favorites. I liked his second book as well. But this new release is deep in the bloodstream of Tattoos. I adored it. The undercurrent is simply that the character of God is extravagantly tender. I needed that reminder badly. This one made me remember all over again why I am a Christian, why I believe in and love God, even as the modern trappings of my faith break my heart. Since reading The Whole Language, I’ve fallen asleep more often remembering how deeply loved and cared for I am by God. (And of course, the stories of the Homies he works alongside shattered me, instructed me, and sometimes made me cackle.)

Shoutin’ in the Fire by Dante Stewart

I discovered Dante last year on Instagram and his writing felt like staring into the sun. It hurt a little, but it was warm, and it kept things growing. This memoir follows Dante’s story from being a Black “darling” (do we use this term for men? no? what’s the equivalent? and why do we only do this for women? i digress…) in a White megachurch, the ways the White Supremacy he encountered there and elsewhere nearly destroyed him, and his rebirth into the liberating faith that holds his full humanity. His writing, gorgeously cadenced and popping off the page, calls us to introspection, examination, and surrender. I don’t know how else to say this: we need to get serious about sitting under the theological instruction of People of Color. Start here.

Heavy Burdens by Bridgett Eileen Rivera

Another one I pre-ordered on the spot (actually all of these non-fiction titles were knee-jerk pre-orders) and was thrilled when the author ended up asking me to offer an endorsement. Here’s what I wrote: “What should have been a collective rush to compassion and care for the LGBTQ community instead became a screaming match over theological fine points…This manifesto rings out in the key of love, the kind that disrupts our judgment, fear, and oppression. Rivera is a prophet for the ages, calling us to the clear-eyed way of Jesus and igniting our shared imagination for the lightness of Christ, alive and at work in all of us.” I truly believe every single Christian needs to read this one.

Learning in Public by Courtney E. Martin

I shared a review of this one in a previous mail. You can read it here. I absolutely loved this book. Courtney did a fantastic job of being honest about her own missteps, and managed to make snappy, engaging writing of a topic that can be cumbersome and polarizing. (I also get her emails, which are fantastic.)

How the Word is Passed by Clint Smith

Another book I previously reviewed here. “Between these pages was the history I was never taught. (an excerpt of my review.) RUN to read this one. Re-educating ourselves should top our to-do list for 2022.

They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us by Hanif Abdurraqib

I grabbed this one randomly off the library shelf one afternoon while trying to pry a tricky section of my next book out of my body and onto the page. I brought it home and devoured it. Hanif writes at the intersection of music/memory/culture/grief/race/beauty/Ohio/and ease. His prose pierces. He tells the truth. I bought a copy for a friend, and immediately ordered his newest release. I love his short essay format, but I love his refusal to tell the simpler story even more.

Good Apple by Elizabeth Passarella

I adore a well-written memoir, especially if it makes me laugh. This hit all the right notes for me. Witty. Intelligent. Impeccable storytelling. Willing to make fun of herself. Thought provoking. As a cryptic bonus, I encountered on short line in this that concerned me. I stewed on it for a couple of days, then sent the author a DM on Instagram to ask about it. It turns out, I was reading that one line incorrectly. She engaged in our conversation with such grace, kindness, and humor. And I learned something new about honest dialogue. What’s better than a page-turning memoir? One written by a beautiful human.

People We Meet on Vacation by Emily Henry

Okay! I read this one for a mini book-club with Bri McKoy. (You can watch our discussion here. THERE ARE SPOILERS.) This does not pretend to be a deep read, but mercy, we’ve gotta come up for air sometimes. It’s a love story, (steamy in a couple places) but it’s so witty, so fun, and I was impressed with the unexpected layers of depth. In classic Shannan fashion, after finishing this one, I grabbed her earlier release, another NYT best-seller. (Loving that one, too!)

The Mothers by Brit Bennett

This book is the reverse “Shannan Has a Book Obsession” situation. I first read The Vanishing Half by Bennett. (It was my last read of 2020. So good!) I grabbed this soon after from the library and loved it, too. From the bio: “Set within a contemporary Black community in Southern California, Brit Bennett's mesmerizing first novel is an emotionally perceptive story about community, love, and ambition. It begins with a secret.” This was a page-turner for me, a perfect combination of a bittersweet love story and the real world implications of class and race.

BONUS 2022 Book:

Disarmed by Marshall King

Not long after our family moved to Goshen, Marshall King, a stranger at the time, invited me to coffee and asked me to write a monthly column for the local newspaper, where he was an editor. (Any old-timers around here might recall that I said yes, and was henceforth heckled by a mysterious stranger in the comments of every column I wrote. “I feel bad for her neighbors!” Makes me laugh just thinking about it.)

In 2017, Michael “MJ” Sharp, a young man with roots in Goshen, was murdered while working for the United Nations in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Next week, this account, painstakingly written by Marshall, a gifted journalist (and one of our dear friends,) releases.

From the bio:

“This compelling account of MJ's life, death, and legacy from longtime journalist Marshall V. King explores what compelled Sharp to travel the world working for peace and the ongoing impact of his life and death in the ongoing story of Christian peacemaking in a war-torn world.”

From my endorsement:

“Too often, our heroes are misidentified according to wealth and power. Disarmed offers a clear alternative. Within its pages, King meticulously details the mysteries surrounding Michael “MJ” Sharp’s murder while illuminating the contours of his ordinary life. There, in that curious contrast, a modern-day hero emerges, the kind that “leaves seeds.” Disarmed is a pasture of wildflowers in wait. I can’t wait to put this book in the hands of many, including my own teenagers.”

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There you have it!

I want to note that all of these are Bookshop affiliate links. Switching from Amazon to Bookshop was something I’m glad I did in 2021. I’m all about supporting independent bookstores! Of course, all titles are available anywhere books are sold. The “affiliate” part simply means that if you order from these links, you don’t pay extra, but they send a tiny percentage my way, in the hope that I’ll buy more books.

(Spoiler alter: SHE WILL.)

I’d love to hear what your favorite books from 2021 were, or which of these catches your eye. The party’s in the comments section!

I’ll be sending an email out next week to The Secret Soup subscribers, sharing the rest of my '21 favorites (shows, podcasts, albums, recipes, random can’t-live-withouts.)

Join us here by subscribing —→

I hope you’re spending time looking for what’s beautiful in this already blistering new year.

I’m giddy that you choose to hang out with me here. Thanks for being my friend. No matter what 2022 brings, I’ll be right here.

Love,

Shannan

PS: In reviewing my list, it’s impossible not to notice that I’m reading way more non-fiction (usually angsty, activisty, blood-pressure-accelerating non-fiction) than fiction. In this new Year of Imagination, I plan to change that.