Best Reads of 2020

--Daisy Jones and the Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid.  I was quite late to the Daisy Jones party. Despite numerous raves, I couldn't see the appeal of a book about a rock band. Finally, when yet another friend suggested it, I broke down and listened to the book on Audible. I loved it. And while I'm sure I'd have enjoyed reading the book, the narration -- especially Jennifer Beals in the role of Daisy -- put it over the top. (Yes, we're talking the Jennifer Beals of Flashdance fame.) Without singing a single word, her raspy voice made it easy to imagine the impact she could have on an audience. And then there were the lyrics she and Billy wrote!  They were about love and heartbreak and addiction and -- well -- life.  The story seemed so believable that I thought it was a true story. (It isn't, but it does apparently bear some resemblance to Fleetwood Mac and the making of the band's "Rumors" album.) Sure, Daisy Jones isn't a book you'll sit around and dissect, but who cares? There's a lot to be said for pure enjoyment. Apparently Reese Witherspoon thinks so as well, as she's producing a 13 episode mini-series based on the novel for Amazon.

--Late Migrations: A Natural History of Love and Loss by Margaret Renkl.  This lovely, contemplative, heartbreaking memoir is not a book I never would have picked up on my own. But my dear friend Althea sent it to me, so I gave it a try. Wow. Each "chapter" is no more than four pages long and contains a reflection on Renkl's life, with heavy emphases on what she's learned as a "backyard naturalist" and her relationship with her parents. It's a book I wasn't sure how to read. Do you pause and consider each essay? Do you read it like a "regular" book?  I ended up somewhere in-between because the emotions it evoked in me were so strong. I keep coming back to two passages relating to her mother's death. The first was written about Renkl's ride to the hospital with her mother who, like my own mother, suffered a brain hemorrhage. Renkl talked about holding her mother's "still and still warm hand." Soon after came her realization that the end of her caregiving responsibilities brought not the expected freedom but grief.  As I said, her words are powerful. 

--The End of October by Lawrence Wright.  Yes, The End of October is about a global pandemic that bears a strong resemblance to COVID-19.  It was more than a little unsettling, and I'm not sure I would have read it had I realized how long the actual crisis would continue. But if you want a good thriller and can get past how surreal the story is, this is the book for you. Wright brings to his fiction the same research and detail he's known for in his non-fiction work, including his Pulitzer-winning The Looming Tower: Al Qaeda and the Road to 9/11. (FYI, The Looming Tower was made into a mini-series on Hulu starring Jeff Daniels.) Interestingly, the idea for the book came to Wright when director Ridley Scott approached him about writing a screenplay about the end of civilization. After much thought, he decided the only way that would happen was if a global pandemic occurred. Enough said...

--The Corpse Washer by Naomi Wallace and Ismail Khalidi. This powerful and thought-provoking play is an adaptation of the Sinan Antoon novella by the same name. The play premiered at the Humana Theatre Festival in Louisville in 2019. It tells the story of Jawad, an Iraqi who dreams of becoming an artist. But Jawad was born into a family that has served its community as corpse washers for seven generations, and there's no shortage of the dead who need tending to in a country that's continually ravaged by wars. Over the course of 30 years, we follow Jawad as he struggles to balance his own desires with family obligations. The story is heartbreaking and filled with memorable characters.  It opened my eyes -- just a little -- to the plight of ordinary Iraqi people. To read more about the play and Wallace and Khalidi's collaboration, click here. 

--ain't no mo' by Jordan E. Cooper. In 1986, George C. Wolfe wrote The Colored Museum, a play with 11 "exhibits" exploring -- and satirizing -- African-American life. (To read the Wiki description of the play, click here.)  Cooper's homage to the concept consists of eight scenes filled with humor and stark revelations about Black life in America today. In fact, the first scene is called "The Book of Revelation - November 4, 2008." In case the significance of the date eludes you, that was the day Obama was elected. A casket is carried onto the stage as Pastor Freeman gives a eulogy for their friend "Righttocomplain." Because, as we all know, once the United States elected a Black president, all would be well in the world. Right. 

The scene entitled "Circle of Life" was particularly jarring as it featured a woman at an abortion clinic because "no one is going to have to turn on their cell phone and see this child's body plastered all over some stain covered concrete like his daddy. As soon as this thing is born, it would be given a clock, a clock that counts down to the seconds until death comes and snatches their time away." In a year in which my friends and I have talked a lot about how the Black Lives matter movement intersects with the theatre -- and read a number of plays by Black playwrights -- ain't no mo' stands out. To watch a terrific interview with the surprisingly young Cooper and Murtada Elfadl of the Public Theatre (which produced the play in 2019), click here. Cooper is definitely a playwright to keep our eyes on. 

That's it for me for 2020. For other books that struck a chord with me this year, click here. (In case you're wondering, Valentine by Elizabeth Wetmore is at the top of my list.) 

May your new year be filled with health, happiness and great books.