What Is A Good Fantasy Book To Read This Year?

I get most of my recommendations from TikTok, which is a mixed bag. The hype for 'Fourth Wing' was insane, and yeah, it's a fun dragons-and-war-school romp, but it’s not the second coming of fantasy. It’s a great gateway book for people new to the genre, though. The romance is central and spicy. Manage your expectations—it's an entertaining, fast read, not a literary masterpiece. Sometimes that’s exactly what you need.

I adore books that wrap you in warmth like a cozy blanket, and 'A Good Year' is one of those gems. If you're craving more heartwarming stories, 'The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society' by Mary Ann Shaffer is a must. It’s got that same blend of charm, quirky characters, and a setting that feels like a hug. Another favorite of mine is 'The Little Paris Bookshop' by Nina George—it’s a love letter to books, healing, and second chances, with a dreamy French backdrop that’s impossible to resist. For something lighter but equally uplifting, 'Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine' by Gail Honeyman balances humor and heart in a way that reminds me of 'A Good Year.' And if you’re into foodie vibes, 'The Cafe by the Sea' by Jenny Colgan is a delightful mix of small-town charm and culinary joy. These books all share that magical ability to make you smile while subtly nudging you toward introspection.

The new anthology 'The Future of Fantasy' is less a collection of stories and more a statement of where the genre's bleeding edge is. It's not all hits, but the misses are fascinating. You get glimpses of twenty different potential futures for fantasy—some leaning into bio-punk, others into surrealist folklore reimaginings. Anthologies are a great way to sample new authors without committing to a trilogy. The stand-out for me was a story about grief manifesting as a constantly shifting, labyrinthine room in a wizard's tower. It's more about texture and emotion than plot, which seems to be a growing direction. Not for everyone, but thrilling if you're tired of epic quest structures.

Reading 'Year of the Monkey' feels like wandering through a dream where reality and surrealism blur effortlessly. Patti Smith’s prose is poetic yet grounded, weaving personal grief with reflections on time, mortality, and fleeting moments. The way she captures 2016—a year of political chaos and personal loss—resonates deeply, especially when she intertwines it with visions of talking signs and desert motels. It’s not just a memoir; it’s a meditation on how we process change when the world feels unstable. What hooked me was her ability to make the mundane mystical. A roadside diner becomes a portal, and a hospital visit morphs into a surrealist painting. Her encounters with figures like Sandy Pearlman add layers of nostalgia and melancholy. If you’ve ever felt untethered during a turbulent year, this book mirrors that disorientation—but with a strange, comforting beauty. It’s like hearing a friend’s rambling, profound midnight thoughts.

Reading 'Year of Wonders' feels like stepping into a time machine set for 1666, where the air is thick with both the scent of plague and the resilience of the human spirit. Geraldine Brooks crafts this historical fiction with such vivid detail that I could almost hear the creaking floorboards of Anna Frith’s cottage and the whispers of fear in the village. What makes it unforgettable isn’t just the grim backdrop of the bubonic plague, but how Anna’s journey—from grief-stricken widow to empowered healer—mirrors the messy, raw process of finding light in darkness. The way Brooks weaves herbal lore and period superstitions into the narrative adds layers of authenticity, making it more than just a survival tale; it’s a tribute to the quiet heroism of ordinary people. What struck me hardest, though, was the book’s refusal to romanticize sacrifice. The village’s self-imposed quarantine isn’t some noble, straightforward act—it fractures relationships, exposes hypocrisy, and forces characters to confront their ugliest instincts. That complexity is why I’ve revisited it twice; each read reveals new nuances, like how Anna’s friendship with the rector’s wife, Elinor, subtly challenges class barriers. If you enjoy stories where history feels alive and flawed characters demand your empathy, this one’s a masterpiece. Plus, that ending? I still lie awake debating whether it was hopeful or haunting—maybe both.

Lately, I've been completely absorbed by 'The Priory of the Orange Tree'—it's this massive, sprawling epic with dragons, political intrigue, and a richly woven matriarchal society. The world-building is so immersive that I kept forgetting to eat while reading. What really hooked me was how it subverts classic fantasy tropes; the 'chosen one' narrative gets turned on its head, and the queer representation feels organic rather than tacked on. If you're craving something fresh but still familiar, Samantha Shannon’s prose has this lyrical quality that makes even battle scenes poetic. I also appreciate how the standalone format (no endless sequels!) lets the story breathe without overstaying its welcome. Pair this with a cup of spiced tea, and you’ve got the perfect weekend escape.

As someone who thrives on the magic and depth of fantasy worlds, I can't help but recommend a few gems that have left a lasting impression on me. One book that stands out is 'The Name of the Wind' by Patrick Rothfuss. It's a masterful blend of storytelling and world-building, following the life of Kvothe, a gifted young man with a tragic past. The prose is poetic, drawing you into a world where music, magic, and mystery intertwine. The way Rothfuss crafts his characters makes them feel alive, and the narrative is so immersive that you’ll forget you’re reading fiction. Another must-read is 'The Priory of the Orange Tree' by Samantha Shannon. This epic fantasy is a sprawling tale of dragons, political intrigue, and ancient prophecies. What I love about it is how it subverts traditional fantasy tropes while delivering a story that’s both grand and intimate. The world is richly detailed, and the characters—especially the fierce warrior Tané and the determined queen Sabran—are unforgettable. It’s a doorstopper of a book, but every page is worth it. For those who enjoy darker, grittier fantasy, 'The Blade Itself' by Joe Abercrombie is a fantastic choice. It’s the first book in 'The First Law' trilogy, and it’s packed with morally grey characters, brutal action, and sharp wit. Abercrombie’s writing is unflinching, and his characters—like the infamous Logan Ninefingers—are some of the most compelling in modern fantasy. The story is unpredictable, and the tension never lets up, making it impossible to put down. If you’re looking for something more whimsical yet deeply philosophical, 'The House in the Cerulean Sea' by TJ Klune is a delightful pick. It’s a heartwarming story about a caseworker who visits an orphanage for magical children and discovers the true meaning of family and belonging. The book is filled with charm, humor, and poignant moments that will leave you smiling long after you’ve finished it. It’s a reminder that fantasy doesn’t always have to be dark to be profound. Lastly, 'The Lies of Locke Lamora' by Scott Lynch is a must for fans of heists and clever protagonists. The book follows Locke and his band of thieves as they navigate the treacherous underworld of Camorr. The dialogue is sharp, the plot is twisty, and the world-building is impeccable. Lynch has a knack for making even the most outrageous schemes feel plausible, and the camaraderie between the characters is infectious. It’s a book that’s as much about friendship as it is about adventure.