2020 Must Read Books

2020 was a wild year, but it gave us some incredible books that felt like they understood the chaos. 'The Vanishing Half' by Brit Bennett was one I couldn’t put down—it explores identity, family, and race with such nuance that I found myself thinking about it weeks later. Then there was 'Piranesi' by Susanna Clarke, which felt like stepping into a dream. The way she builds this surreal, labyrinthine world while keeping the emotional core so human blew my mind.

For something lighter but equally gripping, 'Mexican Gothic' by Silvia Moreno-Garcia was my go-to. It’s this perfect blend of horror and historical fiction, with a protagonist who’s both sharp and relatable. And if you’re into non-fiction, 'Hidden Valley Road' by Robert Kolker is a haunting dive into a family’s struggle with schizophrenia, told with such empathy that it stays with you. Honestly, 2020’s silver lining was how many of these books made staying indoors feel like an adventure.

Man, I was just thinking about how strange it is to revisit my reading list from that year. Books like 'The Vanishing Half' and 'Deacon King Kong' were published then, but they felt like escapes from the constant news cycle, not mirrors of it. I read them for their deep human stories, not because they were 'about' 2020. Maybe the reflection is more in our reading habits—I craved big, immersive family sagas and intricate character studies precisely because the world felt so chaotic and confined. My Kindle history from that spring is all doorstopper novels, which says a lot.

That said, some 2020 releases did engage directly with the zeitgeist in a prescient way. 'The Glass Hotel' by Emily St. John Mandel, with its themes of collapse and financial fantasy, landed right as the economy seemed to be teetering. And 'Memorial' by Bryan Washington explored intimacy and chosen family in isolation, which became a universal experience months later. It's less that they were written about the events and more that they suddenly contained a new, unsettling layer of relevance. The must-read lists weren't a direct reflection, but they became a kind of toolkit for processing a year nobody had a manual for.

I keep seeing 'The Ministry of Time' by Kaliane Bradley on all the 'what to read next' lists, and honestly, it's the only one that's actually piqued my interest. The premise—a civil servant working with time-traveling expats from different eras—just sounds like a messy, fascinating character study waiting to happen, not another sterile sci-fi puzzle. That's the kind of thing I want more of: a high-concept hook that's really just a vehicle for human awkwardness.

My other non-negotiable is finishing 'The Will of the Many' by James Islington. I'm about halfway through and completely locked in. It's got that old-school epic fantasy density, but the magic system tied to political hierarchy is so damn clever it makes the pages fly by. Feels like the start of something huge, and I want to be caught up before the sequel hype starts.

Let’s talk about 'Shuggie Bain' by Douglas Stuart. It won the Booker that year, and its heartbreaking portrayal of a boy loving his alcoholic mother in 1980s Glasgow is not about a specific time or place. It’s about poverty, addiction, queer childhood, and unconditional love. The economic despair and the human capacity for resilience it depicts are, sadly, evergreen. The writing is so visceral and compassionate that it etches itself into your memory. Its relevance is in its unwavering humanity.

So the thing with picking 'can't miss' books from 2020 is that the hype machine was in overdrive. A lot of what dominated bestseller lists felt very zeitgeisty, like they were reacting to the year itself. 'The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue' by V.E. Schwab was everywhere, and honestly, it lives up to the noise for a certain mood—that melancholy, centuries-spanning ache of being forgotten. It's less a plot-driven fantasy and more a vibe, perfect for when you wanted to feel wistful and stuck inside.

On a completely different note, 'Piranesi' by Susanna Clarke blindsided me. It’s this quiet, labyrinthine mystery that feels like a forgotten myth. The praise for its originality is deserved, though I’ll admit the pace lost a friend of mine who prefers more action. For pure, unadulterated fun that actually made me laugh out loud, 'The House in the Cerulean Sea' by TJ Klune was a warm hug in book form. Its found-family charm felt essential that year.

Critics had a lot to say about 2020's standout books, and one title that kept popping up was 'The Vanishing Half' by Brit Bennett. It's this gorgeous, layered story about twin sisters who choose to live in completely different worlds—one embracing her Black identity, the other passing as white. The way Bennett explores race, family, and identity just stuck with me for weeks after reading. Another heavy hitter was 'Hamnet' by Maggie O'Farrell, a fictional take on Shakespeare's son that’s so achingly beautiful, it made me cry in public (no shame).

Then there’s 'Deacon King Kong' by James McBride, which critics praised for its humor and heart. It’s a wild, vibrant ride through 1960s Brooklyn, and the characters feel like people you’ve known forever. On the nonfiction side, 'Hidden Valley Road' by Robert Kolker blew me away with its gripping account of a family grappling with schizophrenia. It’s one of those books that makes you marvel at how truth can be stranger—and more compelling—than fiction.

One more: ‘The Parisian’ by Isabella Hammad. A sweeping historical epic about a Palestinian man studying in France during WWI and his return home. It’s a debut of extraordinary scope and subtlety, exploring identity, colonialism, and belonging. It didn’t get the massive publicity of some others, but for readers of literary historical fiction, it’s a stunning, essential achievement. The prose alone is worth the journey.

You know, I can’t stand those universal 'must-read' lists that everyone circulates. They feel so performative. This year, I’m just chasing books that give me a specific feeling I can’t quite name—a kind of melancholic clarity? Like 'The Overstory' did a few years back. I just finished 'Piranesi' by Susanna Clarke and it absolutely wrecked me in the best way. It’s this quiet, labyrinthine novel about memory and solitude that makes you look at the world differently afterward.

On a completely different note, I’ve seen 'Babel' by R.F. Kuang popping up everywhere in my circles, and the hype seems real. It’s being described as a dark academic fantasy about translation and colonial power, which sounds incredibly up my alley. I’m usually skeptical of BookTok darlings, but the premise feels substantive. My to-read pile is already leaning toward stuff that interrogates systems, I guess.

Everyone's list will be different, obviously, but I keep seeing 'Weyward' by Emilia Hart pop up in all my circles. It's this triple-timeline historical fiction with witchy elements that just hits a certain mood. I devoured it in two sittings. For something completely different but equally consuming, 'The Heaven & Earth Grocery Store' by James McBride is the kind of sprawling, human story that reminds you why you love reading. The characters stick with you for days.

If you lean towards speculative stuff, 'The Book of Doors' by Gareth Brown is a recent release that's pure fun—a magical thriller about a book that can open any door, literally. It's a lighter, faster read than the other two, perfect for when you need an escape hatch. And I'd be remiss not to mention 'Yellowface' by R.F. Kuang; it's a brutal, satirical look at publishing and online culture that feels uncomfortably real. Those four would give you a pretty wild and varied year.

This year has been absolutely phenomenal for readers with so many fantastic titles emerging across genres! Let’s delve into three that really stand out. First up is 'The Midnight Library' by Matt Haig. This book takes you on an emotional ride through the concept of parallel lives and choices, showing what could have been. It’s such a reflective piece, perfect for those of us who love pondering our life decisions as we sip our favorite tea or coffee. Haig’s writing is so relatable, and I found myself tearing up and laughing out loud in the same chapter! It’s a reminder that every choice matters, and perhaps what we perceive as lost might lead to something beautiful.

Next, 'Klara and the Sun' by Kazuo Ishiguro stands as a brilliant mix of sci-fi and emotional depth. The story is told through the eyes of Klara, an artificial friend, which adds such a unique perspective on humanity and our relationships. Reading it felt like gazing into a mirror, forcing me to reflect on my own connections with people. Ishiguro's prose is hauntingly beautiful, and I found myself lingering on certain passages long after I finished them, wondering about the future of AI and its role in our lives.

Finally, if you love a good thriller, 'The Last House on Needless Street' by Catriona Ward is one you cannot miss! It flips the script on standard psychological thrillers, creating an atmosphere of suspense that kept me glued to the pages! The twists and turns are brilliant, leaving you guessing until the last moment. Ward's storytelling is intense and atmospheric, making it perfect for those late-night reading sessions when you're curled up under a blanket, heart racing with every page turn. Each of these books offers a unique experience, and I highly recommend diving into them—you won’t regret it!