Favorite Authors (and Their Books) That I Read in 2022

According to my data (aka an email I send to myself every time I finish a book), I read 173 books this year. 30 less than my average over the last few years, but who’s counting? Of those 173 books, 37 were novels, 11 were graphic novels, 8 were collections of short stories, 6 were screenplays, and * checks notes * 111 (or 64%) were poetry. Below is a list of some of my favorite finds (old and new) from 2022.

Quick housekeeping rules: I kept the list of authors to 40 and didn’t include authors covered years prior. More space for new names. It’s also worth noting I read a lot more (and included a lot more) novels this year than last, about double, which makes me happy. Maybe my attention span is expanding? Now, as one does, let’s begin with Alice Notley:

Alice Notley

The Descent of Alette [1992]

Alice Notley’s 1992 poem-length book is quite possibly the best poetry book I've ever read. A downward hellcrawl through subway and cerebrum. If Dante and the Red Queen had a child, its name would be Alette. A rabbit hole unlike any other I've uncovered.

Rebecca Wadlinger

Terror Terrible Terrific [2022]

Rebecca Wadlinger’s debut collection is part grin, part trick of the eye, part sleight of hand, part juggle, and part nod to the poets that came before her. If there’s one poetry collection that defines “play” this calendar year, it’s this one. Complete with an abecedarian, a sequence of nursery rhymes, and an animated lyric video.

Mercè Rodoreda

Death in Spring [1986 in Catalan, 2009 in English, tr. Martha Tennent]

This book is like reading the novelization of The Wicker Man or Midsommer through the eyes of a youthful villager. Haunting and surreal and magical and gruesome and moving. Hollow out a tree and learn to die. Every step left me breathless.

Ashton Politanoff

You’ll Like it Here [2022]

[interview]

Pulling from newspaper clippings of Redondo Beach in the early 1900s, author Ashton Politanoff (a Redondo Beach resident himself) has assembled a fever dream compendium from 100 years ago. War, murder, thievery, and even the Spanish flu: it all resonates with modernity while still feeling like a trip back in time. Like stumbling into an antique shop and finding a stack of postcards addressed to you. Made up of snapshot vignettes toeing the line between microfiction, prose poetry, and hallucinatory news articles, You’ll Like it Here is a masterclass in precision and concision.

Mary Robison

Why Did I Ever [2002]

An incredible novel in fragments, or perhaps a novel in flash. Funny and energized and unique. I felt like I was on Adderall the whole time. Here’s an excerpt because my words don’t do it justice: "It isn't anything but as I'm writing my notes for tomorrow I fill up a page and don't turn to a new page. I just press down hard with my pen and write over top of what I've already written. I'm going to kick that fucking TV into the road."

Manon Steffan Ros

The Blue Book of Nebo [2018 in Welsh, 2021 in English, tr. by the author]

I really gravitate towards books where the voice is innocent and kind-hearted and tender, despite harsh circumstances. You see this in Piranesi and you see this in The Swallowed Man and you see this here, in The Blue Book of Nebo, an apocalyptic Welsh novel that had me teary-eyed pretty much from start to finish. What a beautiful, beautiful book.

Christine Schutt

Florida [2003]

I didn't read the premise of this novel before opening the book, so I didn’t expect it to take place in the Midwest (or Arizona), but I did expect it to be strong on the sentence level. Florida is a harrowing and vignette-esque novel about an upbringing told through the eyes of a girl bouncing between aunts, uncles, and grandparents. A premise I'll admit doesn't sound up my alley (I tend to prefer the surreal/folkloric/impossible), but this book had a serious hold on me.

Sophie Page

Special House [2022]

Sophie Page is one of my favorite visual artists and I was so glad to get a copy of her new art book Special House. Shaped like a house and full of cut-outs that allow you to peer into the next room, this book is like visiting a friend with a vast imagination. Like looking at a blueprint made of frogs and clouds.

B.R. Yeager

Negative Space [2020]

Pearl Death [2020]

B.R. Yeager’s hallucinatory novel Negative Space exceeded expectations and expectations were high. I kept waiting to cough up spider webs, black ink, gasoline, blood. I haven't read much horror fiction, but if other novels read as breezily and hypnotically as this one, then it looks like I found a new genre to explore in 2023. On top of Negative Space, Yeager also released the haunted card deck Pearl Death in 2020. Long sold out but if you make a donation, indie press Inside the Castle will send you the PDF. Print them out, cut them up, shuffle, and jump inside.

Gizem Mural

Comic Collection Book [2022]

Gizem Mural is such a prolific visual artist and her newest book quickly became a favorite in my collection. Full of her recent panel-heavy wordless comics where the page tells a story or showcases a sequence of color and design, or bleeds off the page into something else entirely. She boxes herself in only to fly wherever she wants. It’s beautiful to see all the ways she approaches this style. This is a coffee table book to share with guests. A writing prompt. A reminder to keep going. Keep creating. Keep breaking the box.

Percival Everett

Erasure [2001]

The Trees [2021]

I'm terrible about reading anything over 200 pages but I finished Everett’s The Trees almost as soon as I opened it. Full of short chapters and a super fast-paced plot, it's bloody and playful and heartbreaking and atmospheric. I'd put my money on this original novel (all of Everett's novels are absurdly original) becoming a movie in the next five years. After I read The Trees back in February, I read Erasure, and just like that, Percival Everett became one of my favorite novelists. Sharp, critical, comical, twisted, and inventive with every page. A book within a book is always a good call and Erasure does it masterfully. Next on my list is Assumption.

Shane Kowalski

Small Moods [2022]

[interview]

Shane Kowalski is a prolific fiction writer with a focus on brevity. Tiny dazzling stories that teeter into prose poetry territory. Taking inspiration from legends of compression like Diane Williams, Lydia Davis, and Garielle Lutz, Kowalski brings his own levels of whimsy and perverseness and surrealism to the literary table. Quick, sharp moments that startle and delight. Dizzying and funny and quietly unhinged. His debut book of stories, Small Moods, has been my mood all year long.

Marlon James

John Crow’s Devil [2005]

Marlon James’ 2005 debut John Crow’s Devil was my introduction to his work and I was blown away by his ability to weave voices and characters so easily. A true juggling / magical act happens inside this book, inside this violent and religious and wild debut. As if Blood Meridian took place inside of a tiny community in Jamaica.

Réka Nyitrai

While Dreaming Your Dreams [2020]

[feature]

Réka Nyitrai is a polyglot surrealist. With Hungarian as her mother tongue and learning Romanian as a child, she later learned English (the language she most often uses to write) as well as Spanish. In this bilingual book of meditative and dream haiku, every page will spill out from your ears and turn into a crow before your eyes. Take good care of this crow before it inevitably flies away.

“an octopus

in her father’s lungs…

first autumn rain”

Anne-Marie Turza

The Quiet [2014]

Fugue with Bedbug [2022]

They say don’t judge a book by its cover but my GOD! I grabbed Turza’s two collections of poetry after being captivated by Fugue with Bedbug’s cover. Dreamy (and often narrative) prose poems that dance within the surreal. Like if Joanna Ruocco and Shivani Mehta went to the opera. If you’ll excuse me, I must go read these two collections again.

Leigh Chadwick

Your Favorite Poet [2022]

[interview]

If you’re on Twitter and/or in the writing community at all, you’ve probably read Leigh Chadwick’s work (either a published prose poem or a collaboration or her yelling at a press about submission fees). Her debut collection, Your Favorite Poet, is a deep dive into the possibilities of the prose poem. Meshing modernity and domesticity with the surreal and the political, the book presents a melting pot of our fucked world, one wondrous paragraph at a time.

Lemony Snicket

Poison for Breakfast [2021]

Snicket’s newest shows him at his most poetic and philosophical and insightful. This book is less like a side-story and more like a standalone pondering. Despite the actual "action" being minimal, the inquisitive and curious mind never stops moving at full speed within this delightful book.

Nicky Beer

Diminishing House [2010]

The Octopus Game [2015]

Real Phonies and Genuine Fakes [2022]

[interview]

Deeply inspired by the world around her, and with a sharp vocabulary of intellect and humor and wit, Beer’s writing seems to come from a place of sincere curiosity and continued obsessions. From cephalopods to stereoscopes to pop culture and beyond, her poems toe the line between science fiction’s absurdities and the tenderness of a prayer. That is to say: poetry that is difficult to classify and poetry that is masterfully done. In The Octopus Game, for example, she writes, “I want to shrug out of the year, hang it on a branch like a truant, and float out into the deepest part of this hour, forgetful as a fish.” More of this.

Leonor Fini

Rogomelec [1979 in French, 2020 in English, tr. by William Kulik & Serena Shanken Skwersky]

Opening Leonor Fini’s slim Rogomelec will have you hopping on a boat to be guided by outside souls and internal desires and fevers that cause dreams to slip and slide and blur off the page. This is a rabbit hole unlike any other I've read. Like Leonora Carrington ballroom dancing with a giant doll made out of peyote. This book rules. I'd love to see it as a short film.

László Krasznahorkai

Chasing Homer [2019 in Hungarian, 2021 in English, tr. by John Batki]

Chasing Homer was my first time reading Krasznahorkai and it felt like mixing Leonor Fini's fever dream novel Rogomelec (posted above) and Lemony Snicket's over-the-top paranoia/anxiety (also posted above). A whirlwind of a chase scene, complete with woozy illustrations and QR codes to soundtrack the voyage. It's a trip. One I'm glad I took.

Gébé

Letter to Survivors [1981 in French, 2019 in English, tr. by Edward Gauvin]

Apocalyptic mailman?! Sign me up. This one was a bunch of fun. Light and sweet and speedy in its quick 100 pages. A graphic novel I’d love to see turned into a sci-fi film. Sitcom, even. It could be one hell of a jump-off point. I randomly grabbed it from the return bin at my library. Call it fate.

Graham Irvin

Liver Mush [2022]

I've never had liver mush, and maybe I never will, but I could read another 500 pages about it if it's written by Graham Irvin. Like if Brautigan was born on a different coast. If Bourdain never left North Carolina.

Emily Kendall Frey

Lovability [2021]

Emily Kendall Frey’s book of poems forces you to slow down, soak in the dense lines one at a time, word by word, jabs and fragments, until the language of the book is your new language, breathing through you like some kind of personal hypnosis. Harrowing in its enchantment (or enchanting in its harrow?). "Men withering on mom stalks / Women choking down dad dust / Small dogs coughing up divorce" and "Bulbous mold blooms on spare room dreams." Whoa.

rob mclennan

The Book of Smaller [2022]

rob mclennan is poetry’s most prolific cheerleader. If he’s not celebrating the work of a poet or providing a generous review, he’s releasing chapbooks from talented writers through above/ground press. On top of this passionate undertaking, he’s also a hell of a poet. With his newest collection of prose poems, The Book of Smaller feels like a pandemic book or a lockdown book, despite it being written pre-COVID. Meditative, ambient, domestic, and insightful, it’s made up of the sparse moments of free time while caring for young children. Put this book by your bed. Read one a day for an entire season and see how you feel.

Sjón

The Blue Fox [2003 in Icelandic, 2008 in English, tr. by Victoria Cribb]

Moonstone [2013 in Icelandic, 2016 in English, tr. by Victoria Cribb]

"Miniature historical epics" is a good way to describe Sjón’s writing. In early 2022, I read The Blue Fox then Moonstone (both translated into English by Victoria Cribb) both within about a week of each other and both taking place over 100 years ago (late 1800s for The Blue Fox, early 1900s for Moonstone). Short chapters and short page lengths make for quick reads. It was freezing in Chicago and it only made sense to visit these distant terrains with a bit of chill in my breath. I'm antsy to read more of Sjón’s work.

Eric LaRocca

Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke [2021]

I knew this book would disturb and disgust and wreck me, and it did all of those things. I also loved not knowing how it would unfold. I read it in a single sitting one late night and I recommend you do the same if you can. Love the unexpected turn with this twisted one, and can’t wait to check out other LaRocca novellas sitting on my desk: They Were Here Before Us (2022), We Can Never Leave This Place (2022).

Angelo Maneage

The Improper Use of Plates [2021]

Writer/designer Angelo Maneage’s Ghost City Press chapbook The Improper Use of Plates reads like pushing an outdated desktop computer off the top of the Tower of Babel and watching it, tenderly, tumble down to its demise.

Gabriel Blackwell

Correction [2021]

When poetry dances with journalism, when sparseness locks arms with a burning world. Gabriel Blackwell’s Correction feels like reading the paper with a paintbrush. Watching the news with a napkin of blood. At times humorous, at times terrifying. Full of rants, digressions, and commas. Right up my alley.

Mette Norrie

Book on Pauses [2022]

Minimalistic illustrations and tiny moments and calm pauses make up the newest bilingual book from Danish artist Mette Norrie. Meditative and playful and magical and fun. Take a break and pause along.

Mike Nagel

Duplex [2022]

Duplex by Mike Nagel is a book that feels like drinking with a good friend as he tells a hilarious story. I couldn't put this one down. It's inventive yet conversational, original yet familiar. Quietly and masterfully outlandish. While I read this in a sitting or two (only 100 pages) I could have spent a couple hundred more pages with this voice. Like the beef ham on the cover, I ate it up.

Nick Bantock

Griffin & Sabine [1991]

I'm late to the party with this one, but it was a delight, one that can be enjoyed on a lunch break. Made up of back-and-forth letters (you get to open actual envelopes within the book!), this is a dreamy magical little love story that warmed my heart. Thrilled to find out that this is the first book in a trilogy. I told my mom (a scrapbook enthusiast) about this one and she was into it as well. Bonus points.

Kathleen Jennings

Flyaway [2020]

This gothic novella was darker (in a good way) than I thought it'd be. A building mystery full of question marks and foggy recollections, it unravels so masterfully and is over too soon. My first time reading Jennings (big fan of her visual art) and I was fully enchanted and immersed throughout this slim, magical debut.

Nate Logan

Inside the Golden Days of Missing You [2019]

This debut collection of poems (and Logan's work, in general) has my heart. Maybe it’s because he’s a fellow Hoosier. Maybe it’s because I see him as part of a family with James Tate and Michael Earl Craig, as if they’re all surrounded by cornfields and tall boys. This book is full of lyrically dense, crystalline sentences, forever with the slyest of smirks. I fucking love that smirk.

Evan Williams

Claustrophobia, Surprise! [2022]

Evan Williams is just getting started, folks. The recent college grad released his debut poetry chapbook at the top of 2022 and this strange compendium of surrealism deserves your full attention. As part of the launch of HAD’s chapbook series, Evan’s collection is packed with 30+ surrealist poems that tackle both tongue twisters and Russell Edson’s ghost. Fractured mayhem. Absurd hurt. Tender nonsense. Beautiful daze. And, yes, a Tall Man.

C. Russell Price

Oh, you thought this was a date? [2022]

C. Russell Price’s debut full-length is a hybrid work hurrying between daydream and haunted trauma. My first impression of Price was seeing them play cassette tape entrance music through a boombox before reading on Zoom and maybe that's all you need to know. An original debut. Also, A+ cover.

Dashiel Carrera

The Deer [2022]

I can’t think of another novel I’d describe as ambient. This one feels like stumbling through an uncertain reality and growing antlers. A world coated in fog where animal and man blend, where the road curves and the forest takes over, and every sensation is both cerebral and completely out of body.

Fernanda Melchor

Hurricane Season [2017 in Spanish, 2020 in English, tr. by Sophie Hughes]

One of the more brutal and vulgar books I’ve read. Every sentence contains both a curse word and a curse. A bloodied body and a middle finger and a cigarette and a stain. Violent and perverse and one of the best examples of perfecting multiple voices on the page. I had this one on my shelf for so long because the 40+ page chapters intimidated the hell out of me, but once I jumped in, I didn’t come up for air until the hurricane was over.

James Hannaham

Pilot Imposter [2021]

A book of prose poems obsessed with plane crashes and fake news and Fernando Pessoa’s many alter egos. I don’t know if this is a novel or a collection of essays or fractured absurdities that are so funny that you can’t help but cry. Soberingly hysterical. Hilariously melancholic. James Hannaham has relesaed a truly unique collection with Pilot Imposter.

Gro Dahle

A Hundred Thousand Hours [1996 in Norwegian, 2013 in English, tr. by Rebecca Wadlinger]

Rebecca Wadlinger appears earlier on this list with her 2022 debut collection of poems. Prior to that book (released through Octopus Books), she was working on translating Norwegian poet (and acclaimed children’s writer) Gro Dahle’s book-length sequence A Hundred Thousand Hours (released through Ugly Duckling Presse). An inspiration for Zachary Schomburg’s 2014 collection The Book of Joshua, this sweeping and surrealist sequence of a mother/daughter relationship redefines itself with each new page. Worth multiple reads, I’d place this wonder in the same family as CAConrad’s The Book of Frank.

Yorgos Lanthimos & Efthimis Filippou

The Lobster [2015]

This is one of my favorite screenplays ever written. Russell Edson would be proud. I’ve read this script a few times and always it feels like reading a collection of absurdist prose poems. Efthimis Filippou’s writing often has this effect (see Dogtooth, see Pity) and whenever he works with Lanthimos, it’s magic. A24’s impressive webshop turned this masterwork into a coffee table book and I had to grab it. A great addition to the collection.