25 Books in 2025

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By: Charlie Hoang

I read 25 books in 2025. Here’s an overview, evaluation, and recommendation for five of my favorite and five of my least favorite books. 

Least Favorite  

1. I Wish You All the Best – Mason Deaver 

I Wish You All the Best is a young adult novel following nonbinary teenager Ben De Backer, who is kicked out of their home after coming out to their conservative parents. They are forced to move in with their older sister and navigate past family baggage along with a new life, school, and a cute classmate named Nathan. This was my first time reading a novel that centers a nonbinary protagonist. The representation was the only redeeming quality of this book—Ben’s experience with their unsupportive parents, awkward misgendering, and agonizing dysphoria make for a realistic, sympathetic read. Unfortunately, the story lacks much of a plot, and Ben themself lacks a personality. Different debacles and a sprinkle of ordinary teenage affairs drive the plot while the timeline jumps sporadically. Ben, as a character, is passive, cold, and ungrateful to a degree that is inexcusable by normal teenage standards. The story thoroughly divulges Ben’s anxiety, depression, and trauma, but not without clichés and a poor understanding of how therapy works. The side characters are flat and clearly contrived to fit archetypes, especially Nathan, Ben’s love interest. I wanted to like this book. I Wish You All the Best could’ve been a moving, happy ending for a queer, nonbinary kid who finds their footing in a world of chaos and hostility. Unfortunately, the novel was dry, and so were my eyes. I would not recommend this book. 

2. Girl in Pieces – Kathleen Glasgow 

Girl in Pieces was a difficult read. The book contains multiple triggering themes regarding self-harm, suicide, addiction, substance abuse, and PTSD. The novel is about a 17-year-old girl, Charlie Davis, who copes with extreme trauma through self-harm. It focuses on her journey to recovery after she is released from a treatment center into a town with no support system. She is determined to resist her urges and finds herself a job at a local coffee shop after endearing the much older, attractive barista. Predictably, she burdens the weight of her own trauma while developing a new addiction to her alcoholic, 27-year-old boyfriend, who showers her with the emotional validation she’s missed her entire life. I fear that, regardless of how I phrase the plot, it may sound bleak and cliché. It was. But it was also real and raw, often too much at times for my sensitivities. I also have my gripes with Charlie’s “support system,” which condoned her boyfriend’s abusive and inappropriate relationship with her as a minor. I concede, however, that I wasn’t the target audience and that what I consider flaws, under the right eye, would hit home. The book’s resolution works out in Charlie’s favor—she almost dies from relapsing, but is saved by her coworkers and conveniently offered a job by their grandparents as an art intern. I am conflicted by Girl in Pieces; it’s a book for those who need it, but those who need it should keep their distance. It’s largely distressing and occasionally uplifting. Overall, I would not recommend this book. 

3. We Have Always Lived in the Castle – Shirley Jackson 

We Have Always Lived in the Castle is a gothic, psychological thriller about Merricat Blackwood, her sister Constance, and their uncle, who live in isolation after a family incident. The Blackwood family lives alone in a mansion, isolated from detesting villagers who fear and begrudge their wealth. After Merricat and Constance’s mother, father, and brother were poisoned and killed, they are terrified of leaving their haven, especially as the villagers gossip and mock them. Ultimately, the sisters choose to stay safe and locked away forever. The “thriller” classification appears in the unsettling relationship dynamics and Merricat’s narration. Constance has a severe case of agoraphobia, which is enabled by Merricat’s vindictive, vicious attitude toward the villagers. The sisters are eerily codependent. I will say, Jackson’s portrayal of these characters and the tension were written well. The prose was enjoyable and fitting. If you, like me, aren’t a reader who isn’t moved by unnerving subtleties and ordinary narratives, We Have Always Lived in the Castle is not the book for you. The novel is not a flagrant horror; it lacks the creeping, adrenaline-inducing elements of a thriller. It’s unconventional and subdued. For this reason, it didn’t impact me. However, if the descriptions above intrigue you, I would recommend this book. 

4. Before the Coffee Gets Cold – Toshikazu Kawaguchi 

I was five years late to the hype, but I’m glad I read Before the Coffee Gets Cold—not just because. Before the Coffee Gets Cold is a Japanese novel about a cafe in Tokyo that allows customers to travel back in time under four strict conditions: you can only meet people who have visited the cafe, you cannot leave your seat, the present will not change, and you must return before your coffee gets cold. As a bonus, there is a ghost lady who sits in the specific seat for time travel, and you must wait for her to go pee to take the seat, or you will be cursed. The novel comprises four shorter narratives, focusing on central pairs (the character going back in time, and the person they want to meet). These pairs include Fumiko and her ex-boyfriend, whom she tries to confront about leaving her for a new job; Kotake and her husband, from whom she retrieves a letter as his memory dwindles from Alzheimer’s; Hirai and her sister, whom Hirai avoided until she died in an accident; and Kei, an ill pregnant barista at the shop who travels to see if her child lives. I labour to explain these narratives because the book is emotionally and narratively driven rather than plot-reliant. Unfortunately, this is why the book tends to fall flat and drag on in multiple areas. Kawaguchi also employs a theme of women’s sacrifice and suffering, which is not exactly original, but he does so tastefully; his writing style is calm, and the book moves at a leisurely pace, allowing emotions to ripple over you. The plot would benefit if Kawaguchi had been more considerate of the reader’s capabilities and time. He knows how to milk emotions, but often overexplains a character’s every thought and feeling. The pace suffers as a result. Altogether, I understand why Before the Coffee Gets Cold became so popular—it’s poignant and poised. It was, however, not the most striking and occasionally monotonous. Still, I would recommend reading it. 

5. Flowers for Algernon – Daniel Keyes 

At this point in the list, I must clarify that the classification “least favorite” does not mean bad. I do not want this to reflect poorly on my reading abilities and judgment. Flowers for Algernon is a narrative told through progress reports on patient Charlie Gordon, a 32-year-old with a low IQ who undergoes surgery to boost his intelligence. The experiment mirrors a similar success on a mouse named Algernon. As the post-surgery effects begin to take place and Charlie’s intelligence increases, he battles his heightened emotional cognizance. He realizes the horrible ways he’s been treated by his “friends,” while developing romantic and sexual feelings for the first time. When Algernon begins acting up, failing his intelligence assessments, and losing motivation, Charlie understands that he will eventually regress to his old self. I loved the premise of Flowers for Algernon. It addresses ableism and prejudice. It forces readers to consider what it means to be a man, and primarily, what it means to be human (or worthy of consideration). It does so in an effectively heartbreaking and original manner. Watching Charlie’s character development and eventual intellectual degeneration was undoubtedly tragic. That being said, I wasn’t as attached to Charlie as the novel required. Pre-surgery Charlie is a likable character to anyone with compassion. Post-surgery Charlie was often egotistical, and his narration was boring. The side characters lacked much depth. I wish I could provide a well-founded analysis of why I wasn’t moved by Flowers for Algernon, but unfortunately, I cannot. I would still recommend Flowers for Algernon, and hope others enjoy this classic more than I did. 

Favorite

1. 1984 – George Orwell

1984 is a classic for a reason. Readers hardly require another person raving about how great the novel is, but it was necessary to include. It’s a dystopian novel about Winston, a lower member of the Party, who governs the nation of Oceania and is overseen by Big Brother. The Party controls, surveils, and punishes its citizens’ thoughts and behavior. The Party has created a new language called Newspeak, which narrows down all vocabulary about politics, hoping to eliminate revolution and eventually, thinking. The plot follows Winston’s journey as he participates in an illegal romantic relationship with a rebellious hedonist named Julia. His romantic and political passions strengthen as his hate for the Party grows. Eventually, through brutal brainwashing, he loses his lover, conviction, and self. We root for Winston despite him not being endearing and rather bland. I would assume the first two-thirds of the book are passably interesting for most readers, but when Winston is taken to the Ministry of Love, terror sets in. We confront the reality that there is no hope; Winston has known this, and readers have read through his demoralized perspective, but we only feel the true desolation at that point. More horrifyingly, we realize that we could do no better. 1984 is an iconic dystopian and incredibly culturally significant—it’s the cautionary tale against totalitarianism and has been used in drawing parallels between current events and “Orwellian” situations. I have referenced 1984 repeatedly when processing politics and the actions of our government. Aside from the book’s themes, I thoroughly enjoyed the writing. I don’t believe the prose is everyone’s favorite, but I happen to love Orwell’s writing style (especially in his semi-autobiographical debut novel, Down and Out in Paris and London). Overall, 1984 is a must-read, literally and figuratively for Alsion students. I insist that everyone read it.  

2. Never Let Me Go – Kazuo Ishiguro

Never Let Me Go is a dystopian sci-fi novel about Kathy, a “carer” who reflects on her life at Hailsham school, where she and her friends were raised clones for organ donation. What I love about this novel is that it’s not about mutiny because of the ethical implications of scientific advancement—clones are raised for their organs because they save countless lives, and nothing will change that. Instead, Never Let Me Go trusts our existing conscience, one that opposes farming children for organs, and divulges a narrative as gut-wrenching as it is terrifying. Kathy’s grim reality, contrasted with her ordinary, unhurried narration, creates tension. More so, it creates frustration; I wanted to shake sense into Kathy, to convince her that her situation was wrong and that she should be angry or sad or something other than compliant. I interpreted Kathy’s detachment and passivity in her narration as a purposeful, effective choice Ishiguro made to convey her merciless existence. For some, however, I think the prose, coupled with the mundane descriptions, could be seen as lacking or dry. Still, I believe the novel is worth reading. I was invested in how Kathy navigated relationships, friendships, and sexual autonomy with their impending demise. I was gravely disheartened when the ending I knew would come eventually came. Please read Never Let Me Go. 

3. The Perks of Being a Wallflower – Stephen Chbosky

The Perks of Being a Wallflower is the quintessential coming-of-age novel. It follows 15-year-old Charlie, a high school freshman who evolves from a passive, observant “wallflower” into an engaged, social individual. He battles his passions and underlying emotions from past trauma, whilst navigating new friendships and romantic relationships. The novel is told through letters to an anonymous “friend,” inviting readers into Charlie’s brilliant, eccentric mind. What I loved most about TPOBAW is its authenticity. It was equally amusing and saddening to view the world through Charlie’s emotionally stilted, resigned lens. His writing carries a quiet confusion and rumination. He expresses immensely profound thoughts about universal adolescent experiences in his simple, Charlie-like fashion. Although Charlie is not the model for processing the chaos of growing up, he’s a reminder that no one is. He’s a testament to flying high one moment (for some people literally) and hitting rock bottom the next, and to losing yourself in crowds to being the only person in the world (in the bad way). He is every teenager, and, in the end, he endures. I would absolutely recommend The Perks of Being a Wallflower. 

4. Things Fall Apart – Chinua Achebe 

Things Fall Apart is about the disruption of Igbo society in Nigeria because of British colonialism and missionaries. It centers Okonkwo, a well-respected, self-made warrior known for his physical strength, pride, and success. He constantly eludes shameful ghosts from his past, vowing to never fall to weakness. He enforces dominance and masculinity on his family through violent discipline. When his life is uprooted and he is exiled, he misses the transformation of his clan. Upon returning, he cannot cope with the colonization and weakening of his people. Things Fall Apart is richly anthropological, detailing Igbo traditions and referencing proverbs. It familiarizes readers with both the outstanding flaws of African culture—such as permitting Okonkwo’s abusive, misogynistic behavior—and its strengths—like its orderly political structure and profound spiritual belief. At the forefront of the novel, however, is Okonkwo’s personal journey. The aspects of societal roles and colonization enhance his arc. From his humble and vengeful beginnings, Okonkwo’s hamartia is outlined to readers, and all we can do is observe his undoing. It reflects his clan’s eventual assimilation and incapacity to continue fighting back; they, and Okonkwo included, can only watch as their cultures and lives are stripped away. Achebe expertly portrays the merciless force that is colonization. Things Fall Apart is just a must-read. 

5. Madonna in a Fur Coat – Sabahattin Ali 

Madonna in a Fur Coat is a Turkish novel about Raif Efendi, a reticent, lost man who reflects on his youth in 1920s Berlin when he fell in love with Maria Puder, a performer. Madonna in a Fur Coat is everything a romance novel is not. It leaves you disillusioned and wrecked. It redefines the portrayal of love. The novel became popular for its depiction of intense yearning, although I did not read it craving romance. I view Madonna in a Fur Coat as a devastating tale of alienation, and as Raif’s grievance of the only connection he’s ever felt or received. It’s a beautiful work of melancholy rumination against a vibrant backdrop of art, intimacy, and transformation. It’s remarkably sensitive and unique; I’ve never read anything like it. I would highly recommend Madonna in a Fur Coat. 

In short, I had an excellent year of reading. Even my least favorite books were, for the most part, enriching. I would highly recommend checking out the books in my “favorite” section. Also, I would just recommend reading in general.