#173. "O Pioneers" by Willa Cather

When most stories about the Midwest pop up, they're usually of the triumphant cowboys who fight bad guys and save desert towns. For as fun as the western genre is, it isn't a complete portrait of America as it evolved over the 19th century. Willa Cather knows this better than anyone and produced a handful of fiction that perfectly captured the joys of smalltown life. In a Nordic community inhabited in the norther corners of the Midwest, the story unfolds with a simple view of a world that was starting to take shape. Every small innovation is complimented by traditions and community that build something endearing and sweet along the way. It's in these small, episodic encounters that life happens. As a result, it's one of the purest, more enduring portraits that American fiction has produced.

#172. "Heart of Darkness" by Joseph Conrad

As centuries have carried on, the topic of colonization becomes more widely discussed. At the time of Joseph Conrad's publication of his timelesss novel "Heart of Darkness," European authors romanticized the weary traveler. These were men who helped to exoticize worlds different from their regal lifestyle. While Conrad's contribution seems like the same as usual, what he ends up creating is one of the greatest indictments of colonization that fiction had seen. With a protagonist who continually insults the residents of the jungle communities he inhabits, there is a sense of disgust in even being there. Despite being the outsider, the efforts to make him the expert only reflect how lacking the nature of assumptions are. With a third act that finds white guilt and isolation taking a toll on a supporting character, everything comes together in a radical, stunning fashion that shows the heart of a cruel man who ends not with understanding but with even more disconnect than what he went in with. 

#171. "One Day" by David Nicholls

Few romance novels have a gimmick as brilliant as David Nicholls' "One Day." In an effort to understand a relationship through minimalist details, he chooses to explore how a couple reunite once a year to figure out where they are in life. What starts as bright-eyed youths with their own aspirations slowly evolves into different career paths. While later chapters feature them not interacting at all, the early run is some of the finest explorations of the optimism of love and how brilliant everything seems at the offset. With the shift of each decade (both of characters and time) comes new challenges to the novel. New worldviews form and the concept of desire shifts slightly. Can love sustain the struggles of time, or is everything doomed to be forgotten? Certain people remain pivotal to personal growth. Time moves on, but the memories don't. This novel is nostalgic and glossy without resorting to kitsch. Instead, it feels raw, honest, and likely to leave the reader contemplative of their own relationships.

#170. "Sharp Objects" by Gillian Flynn

One of the greatest gifts that Gillian Flynn has a writer is knowing how to make the nasty appealing. In one of her earliest novels, "Sharp Objects" reflects a woman's complicated journey with family whose tensions are resurrected when she's forced to return to her hometown. Despite being an investigative reporter who is used to difficult subject matters, there is something about this particular case that bothers her on a deep level. It could be because of how it drags up unhealthy coping behaviors as harsh comments lead her to potentially relapse. As everything falls apart, the novel becomes of the most perplexing views of self-harm that 21st century fiction has provided. Even in its sensationalized approach, Flynn doesn't romanticize the condition. Instead it becomes a character study that takes familiar tropes and makes for a pulpy page-turner that does enough right to foreshadow one of fiction's most impressive young careers to date.

#169. "The Handmaid's Tale" by Margaret Atwood

For generations now, Margaret Atwood's seminal novel "The Handmaid's Tale" has been considered haunting less because of what it says but more what it predicts. In a dystopian future, women have become second-class citizens and are forced to wear restrictive clothing as their homelife becomes a prison. The inability to express oneself outside the maternal roles has resonated with many who find the subtext to be more than allusions. Given her history of feminist criticism, Atwood's most popular work remains vital. The darkness is sure to cause a goosebump or two. Even then, it's not without some levity as characters find humor in their increasingly mundane lives, doing everything to stave off insanity. The results are a powerful cautionary story that encourages the reader to be aware of the world around them, questioning whether the slow decline into oppression can be attributed to their neutrality or if the collective system was always a bit hopeless to a few evil powers.

#168. "Dog Man: The Scarlet Shredder" by Dav Pilkey

At this point, readers will know whether they are on board with the Dog Man series. Having usurped its status as the Captain Underpants spin-off, it has managed to develop its own strange lore that has become more engrossing and substantial than anything Dav Pilkey has written. What's been especially exciting is finding the author move between juvenile humor and deeply emotional pathos. The results continue in this graphic novel that finds the absurd premise dovetailing with a familiar vulnerable core that delivers another reliable entry. It may not be the most memorable book in the series, but Pilkey has found a way to keep the series alive with a youthful bouyancy that encourages them to give into their creative pursuits and find their own adventure worth following.

#167. "Madame Bovary" by Gustave Flaubert

Upon its release, "Madame Bovary" was considered a controversial text that reflected the downfall of moral women. As a story about a chaste lady giving into carnal desire, it reflected a shift towards a more independent era that was uncommon for the 19th century. As a story that revels in realism and modernist technique, it explores the interiority of its character while placing her in a series of situations that conveys the emotional depths of a figure in desperate need of connection. The results are not without tragedy, though the journey does a fantastic job of showing the highs and lows of frivolous lifestyles. Thanks to Gustave Flaubert's prose, it never strays too far into seediness and instead works as a commentary on why the unexamined life is ultimately meaningless. There has to be risks and failure to appreciate its larger purpose, and nobody achieves it quite like Madame Bovary.

#166. "Billy Budd" by Herman Melville

Towards the end of his career, Herman Melville wrote a novella that remains a perplexing study of sea life. As one of the premiere authors to ever discuss the lonelines of the seven seas, he ended it with a slim story that hides his deepest desires somewhere in the subtext. The central character of Billy Budd spends the story going about his mundane life, and yet there is something to the camaraderie of his peers that is undeniable. Is what he's experiencing something akin to typical male chumminess, or is there something more passionate underneath? For a story that ends on a bit of a slight, it's an amazing testament to his craft that the emotions evoked in the text resonate centuries later, leaving one to fully understand the larger authorial intent.

#165. "Heartstopper: Vol. 3" by Alice Oseman

When readers last left the cast of "Heartstopper," the protagonists had broken the tension and finally became a couple publically. While this tension is where most queer young adult texts would end, Alice Oseman's desire to move forward is exciting, allowing the relationship to grow in that cute, awkward way that most romances do. The only difference is that this one features a journey overseas and allows for an expansion of the supporting cast to have their own adventures. Even if this series can at best be considered quaint or wish fulfillment, there is still something endearing about a love story that revels in the naivety of discovery without fully removing the fears of the outside world. 

#164. "Endzone" by Don Delillo

Few sports have been as essential to the American identity like football. For most of the 20th century, athletes have taken to the field to adoring fans who believe their silly rituals will be enough to get them over the hump. It's an activity that is in itself comical and few authors felt as ripe to tackle it like Don DeLillo. The mater of post-modernism took on the whole nine yards in a story that studies the masculinity and the homoeroticism underneath. It's a chance to break down every play and find the comedy within fumbled plays. Even if it fails to live up to his greatest work, those wanting a breezy sports comedy will be rewarded from an author who knows how to economically structure a sentence so that it mixes highbrow insight with lowbrow confusion. The results would be anyone else's high point, but it's credit to DeLillo's technique that it's in the middle of the huddle.

#163. "Alias Grace" by Margaret Atwood

Throughout history, there are figures who become mythologized without being understood. With "Alias Grace," Margaret Atwood explores the trial of one woman in the 19th century. Many would be quick to label her a pariah, or someone deserving of her fate. However, Atwood's tender eye towards subtext and grand hypotheticals, she creates a rich biography for Grace that allows her story to become more tragic, full of unfortunate circumstance and even a sense that her reputation was doomed before the inevitable downfall. While it sounds like a simple martyr story, the author's gift comes in finding her humanity and turning this piece of history into an immersive experience. By the end of the novel, the reader will come to empathize with Grace, creating a subtextual connection to contemporary gender politics that is sometimes thought provoking and others haunting.

#162. "Where the Crawdads Sing" by Delia Owens

Everyone likes a good murder story. In the past decade, few novels have resonated with audiences as much as  Delia Owens' "Where the Crawdad Sings." A major reason could be due to her attention to detail which brings the south to life with natural detail that makes even the air feel mysterious. As a novel, it's an immersive experience that makes the reader understand the world that she's inhabiting. Add in a murder mystery and it has an interesting moral dilemma that finds the characters slowly unwinding until a greater truth emerges. In this regard, it's a successful text that manages to present a pulpy good time. However, it's still a bit bland and unable to build much of an original enough yarn to truly stand out as something special. 

#161. "Me and Earl and the Dying Girl" by Jesse Andrews

By this point, there's little reason to believe that there's a new way to write a coming of age novel. While every experience is unique, there are certain formative moments that they generally share. The teen years are a magical time where people discover who they want to be. While the story may feel familiar, Jesse Andrews has found a new and ingenious angle to explore those wayward days with humor and an unexpected emotional depth. The title "Me and Earl and the Dying Girl" evokes a lot of complicated emotions, ranging from quirkiness to dread. It leaves the audience wondering who these people are and why they matter. It's not even clear that this is a coming of age novel. With all that said, the mixed approach is reflective of the larger text which features traditional text alongside screenwriting technique and various dialogue pieces. This is a story about learning to overcoming your own selfishness. It's at times unpleasant, but overall it's an entertaining read that plays well, especially to young cinephiles. 

#160. "The Human Stain" by Philip Roth

In light of the Monica Lewinsky scandal, Philip Roth decided to explore the complicated nature of what society can do to a person with "The Human Stain." As the story of an interracial teacher who is fired for a deceptively offensive comment, the story explores how cancel culture can impact one's life. The results are, predictably, uncomfortable but finds Roth sympathizing with a man whose life unravels in a manner that begins to make sense the longer things go on. For every philosophical tirade and effort to get his life back together, the real story is about perspective. Can controversy stain one's life forever or are there ways to move beyond it? Along with a problematic relationship that muddies his relationship with the reader, this is a novel that has a lot of big ideas. How willing one is to listen depends on how much they want to spend time listening to a chauvinistic characer who reflects an older way of looking at the world. 

#159. "Cat Kid Comics Club: Influencers" by Dav Pilkey

One of the greatest gifts that Dav Pilkey have provided to readers is creativity. The latest entry in his famous creative arts series delivers on the promise of exploring what it takes to be an influencer. For as much as Pilkey embraces the nature of being silly, he's also an expert at understanding how to speak to young readers who maybe need advice on how to make art. While the initial idea can be exciting, the effort to have it reach its full potential is more difficult. His characters make the workshop process feel effortless as he makes even the painful idea of criticism palpable.

#158. "The Awakening" by Kate Chopin

While women have been written about for centuries, they have often been presented as fodder for male authors. They're reduced to the ever elusive muse role where they are more an object than a person. Even the authors who create the most dynamic characters have some shortcoming when it comes to giving women the depth they deserve. It's a big reason that Kate Chopin's short but definitely not slight novel "The Awakening" was perceived as such a revelation upon release. What it lacked in typical romantic drama fare, it more than made up for in deep rooted passion, existing within the subtext of every line as characters searched for happiness in their lives. The results may not be high on showmanship, but those willing to sit with the final passages will find something provocative and lasting within the description. Chopin represented not what women were seen as but what they were.

#157. "The Neon Bible" by John Kennedy Toole

One of the most tragic stories of 20th century literature is John Kennedy Toole. While his eventual publications would suggest redemption, the fact that each of his two novels were released long after his passing only helps to reflect how everyone's voice is not fully appreciated within one's lifetime. A lot of his acclaim came with his second completed novel but first published "A Confederacy of Dunces." With an impeccable depiction of New Orleans subcultures, it was considered one of the essential novels of its time. It makes sense that interest would inspire his other novel to go to print, even if it feels very much like the work of a teenage author still finding his voice.

Toole wrote "The Neon Bible" when he was 19. While the prose within itself is above average for a writer, it's still reflective of someone trying to find their voice. In a lot of ways it pales in comparison to his later work, though that may just be attributed to how popular it became. Meanwhile, "The Neon Bible" is a work that ambitiously reflects the rebelliousness of a teenager taking shots at the world around him. The title refers to how neon signs can hypnotize people into believing that consumerism is a religion. With a crime story that develops with bittersweet revelations, the results capture Toole's attention to detail as he brings this world to life. However, his inexperience means that the fluidity of making the world feel lived in doesn't have quite the same ease nor does it land with as many memorable scenes. In a greater career, this would've been the start to something more prolific. Instead, it's a look into what could've been.

#156. "Interpreter of Maladies" by Jhumpa Lahiri

As the world becomes more interconnected, the search for authors reflecting a modern take becomes more desired. Near the top of the list has to be Indian-American author Jhumpa Lahiri whose career is dedicated to reflecting the experience of calling two very different places as home. In her award winning anthology "Interpreter of Maladies," she takes several perspectives that connect to the theme of being alive and longing for a sense of wholeness. While not every story takes place in a similar location or deals with uniform ideas, they all help to paint a compassionate view of Indian-American life as it relates to searching for balance in one's life. Whether it's a break-up that takes place during a blackout or a controversy surrounding a kind old woman who sweeps stairs, Lahiri knows how to get the reader invested in deceptively simple visions of everyday life. The results create one of the strongest anthologies and promising debuts for an author who has only continued to define her voice as time has gone on.

#155. "Gulliver's Travels" by Jonathan Swift

A detail that may be lost to contemporary readers is how popular travelogue stories were in previous generations. There was a real artform to making foreign lands alluring on the page, creating something for those unable to visit them and inspire their imaginations. Nobody knew if they were being honest, but the writers with the purplest of prose could manipulate and turn their mentality into the embodiment of a culture that could not be refuted. There's been endless masterpieces in that genre, though it was also something bound to be held up to ridicule like "Don Quixote" with chivalrous knights in a former time. 

Alas, here comes Jonathan Swift. As one of the great satirists of early literature, his story "Gulliver's Travels" comes as forceful as a wrecking ball to the tropes. Unlike his other works, people have argued what his larger message is here and whether the satire is commenting on a certain text. Is this a commentary on Ireland's feelings towards England's colonization habits? Is this an attack on intellectualization as being useless? It sort of is all there, but so is a scatalogical undertone that makes the text simultaneously juvenile. Is Gulliver supposed to be aspirational or a complete buffoon? Nobody knows for sure, and it's arguably what makes it one of the defining satires of its era.

#154. "The Color Purple" by Alice Walker

There's are many reasons to praise Alice Walker's "The Color Purple" that aren't apparent on the first page. Because of its writing style, the reader is introduced to the protagonist's interiority more than her surroundings. Because of this, the initial passages where she's praying to god are a bit more vague and don't fully convey the complexities of her life. Within the first page is a recounting of a sexual assault for a man who never fully disappears from the story. In some ways, it's a story of moving beyond the trauma of the past and learning to embrace life. This is a story rooted very much in early 20th century America from a perspective not often celebrated. Walker's introspection may be sidelined by practices of a segregated south, but this isn't a story of imprisonment. It's one of hope. 

#153. "Pet Semetary" by Stephen King

When asked what he thinks is among his scariest books, Stephen King has often pointed to "Pet Semetary." It's an early work in his career, and yet it's one that seems to capture his curiosity. What is it about dead pets that speaks to the master of horror? Why is this the novel among the few dozen masterpieces that has stuck in his mind? 

From a reader's standpoint, the answer becomes very clear very quickly. Before King was forced to overcomplicate his premises to keep from repeatinng, he was able to turn the simplest concepts into nightmare fuel. For most people, losing a pet is a devastating experience. Nobody wants to lose an innocent animal that brings up a sense of joy and innocence in one's lives. However, the idea of seeing the rotting corpse of that points to a mortality that is horrifying, especially for those younger and less jaded by the torments of time. What King achieves over the course of the novel is elevate the kooky premise into something that aches at the very soul of the characters as well as the reader. It's a discussion of mortality and decay that not only happens beyond the afterlife, but also in the moment.

#152. "Anna Karenina" by Leo Tolstoy

 

How does one follow a masterpiece like "War and Peace"? For Leo Tolstoy, it involved making a story nonetheless large in scope but more intimate in characterization. As one of the great works of realism, "Anna Karenina" paints a picture of two couples who seem similar at first but whose lives greatly divert as time goes on. Even the fact that the titular Anna is, by 19th century standards, reckless and unlikable, subverts expectations of this being a conventional romance novel. Instead, it's a larger commentary on Russian culture during a time where the classes were at odds with each other. Do the lavish have it better, or do the farmers who spend hours tending the fields? 

Somewhere in the text, Tolstoy adds the most unexpected element to this realist drama: spiritualism. The paralleled narrative creates a discussion of predeterminism as a larger context. Are good people destined for good lives? Will they receive good fortune simply for just behavior? The larger answer is: no. Nothing is promised in this life. For as banal as that premise may sound, Tolstoy stacks the reader's experience with theoretical moments that finds his characters navigating an incredible world full of small epiphanies. The reader may be frustrated with the larger sense of ambiguity in its theme, but that's not to say that the road there is playful and even humorous at times. For an author known for lofty tomes, "Anna Karenina" ranks among the most human tales ever conceived, and one that feels relevant even centuries later.

#151. "The Ballad of Songbird and Snakes" by Suzanne Collins

On the surface, readers wouldn't think that there's a lot of space to expand on the world of Panem. After a trilogy of books, how could anyone make The Hunger Games exciting and new, especially without beloved protagonist Katniss centering the book? In a clever sidestep, Suzanne Collins has decided to do what anyone else would do in popular franchise culture: make a prequel. This one centers around antagonist Snow as a young man experiencing the bloodbath ritual for the first time. One has to ask how an unsympathetic lead makes a difference in this world and whether audiences would be willing to go along with it, but Collins knows what she's doing. 

For as much as this is a world that doesn't necessarily encourage expansion, the additions provide a cleverness and depth that push the story into a complicated dilemma. By attempting to push beyond the nefarious behavior readers know, Collins successfully creates a sympathetic story that finds Snow able to be seen as likable, even understandable in his poor decisions. It's the type of chess game perfect for the battlefield. Every move is about survival and while Snow maybe had more advantages than half the characters in "The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes," he's left with questions of keeping his soul and integrity alive. The reader knows how things evolve. Knowing how it starts brings to light the preventable in ways that make the larger series more tragic and preventable. While it's part of a familiar tradition of prequel world building, it's enough to please fans of Hunger Games as a larger universe.

#150. "Here I Am" by Jonathan Safran Foer

As Leo Tolstoy would say, every dysfunctional family is different in their own way. In the case of Jonathan Safran Foer's "Here I Am," he explores one in the middle of a variety of struggles. As a son is set to have a Bar Mitzvah, a Jewish couple is dealing with their own martial problems that come with a painful vulnerability. Everyone is at odds with each other, and there isn't any clear answer to be found. Foer's attention to detail allows for a clever spin on familiar domestic struggles, using the Jewish identity to convey the confusion of life and the quest for meaning amid ever-changing circumstances. The final journey is an entertaining and provocative journey that finds the author delivering another masterful slice-of-life character piece that may be a bit more muted but comes with its own amusement.

#149. "Pageboy" by Elliot Page

To a certain extent, memoirs are often boring. Unless the celebrity has a tell-all packed full of salacious encounters, it's often best left to the fans. In the case of Elliot Page's highly touted "Pageboy," it's a much different story. As a trans man who grew up being seen as the "it girl" of indie cinema, the struggle to be seen and accepted for himself was a journey that took him well into adulthood. That pathways to eventual acceptance weren't without some emotional turmoil and regret, and "Pageboy" delivers one of the most vulnerable and engrossing discussions of transmasculine identity that has hit the mainstream. Even in stories of more mundane familial conflicts, Page does an excellent job of painting the struggle to be yourself. This isn't everyone's story. It's just Page's. That may not seem like much, but it hopefully inspires readers to find their own journeys and not feel less alone in whatever they're struggling to achieve.

#148. "1Q84" by Haruki Murakami

Fantasy is a complicated genre to get right. While there's a built-in audience who are more likely to enjoy the unique world-building, reaching those who may be a bit allergic to the weirdness is a sizable challenge. With that said, the beguiling nature of Haruki Murakami has made him one of the most renowned writers of his generation. As he's produced several books with provocative texts and characters that lead readers to think differently about their own lives, it's easy to think that "1Q84" would be on another level. It is among his longest works and most complicated as well. However, there's as much of a chance for this to become self-indulgent and monotonous as it is to provide incredible answers about how everyone engages with reality. If judged for that, it's a phenomenal text about loneliness. However, it's also one of the most misguided portrayals of women in fantasy possible, leading to a complete mess of a book that may do more damage to beginner reader's familiarity with Murakami than help.

#147. "Something I've Been Meaning to Tell You" by Alice Munro

In the opening story of Alice Munro's prize-winning anthology, she finds the relationship between two sisters coming to a head in the most sinister way imaginable. After decades of conflict, the reader is thrust into a final paragraph that recontextualizes everything that came before. Suddenly it requires backtracking to better understand what the first-person narrative was saying. Was it reliable at all, or have we been exposed to one of the pettiest, most jealous characters to grace the page? The answer is only haunting once discovers where everything is built from, showing how difficult her interiority ultimately was. It not only encourages detective work through the indirectness, but it also sets up the stories to come in unfathomable ways. 

Ultimately what makes Munro one of the great short story writers is her ability to create complicated women. Even when they're speaking directly to the reader, there is something that feels hidden. It's not always evident, but it's there. She is also a master of recontextualizing what time means. Sometimes it's the fear of growing old, but often it's about the pain of a faithful memory as a new generation asks the elders to recall their past. Everything is warped to some extent, creating a provocative view of hindsight that perfectly shows what a woman's life ultimately amounts to. It's not always triumphant or even evident, but each of these characters deserves some accolade for surviving in an American landscape, especially when opposite questionable men. As the title suggests, these are things that feel like afterthoughts, but very important ones at that.

#146. "Heartstopper: Vol. 2" by Alice Oseman

When readers last left the cast of "Heartstopper," they were faced with a familiar romantic comedy plot. It's the tenderness of a will they/won't they scenario that is built into a kiss. The pages that followed were so jubilant and full of life, that finding Alice Oseman's animation became a dazzling exploration of bliss. Rarely has an artist been so capable of sensitively capturing the joys of that first love, creating a sense of uncertainty about what's to come. After all, "Vol. 1" suggests a need for "Vol. 2," and a romance that won't exactly end with this cliche moment. Where does life take our characters now that they've gotten over those pre-dating jitters and now know how they feel for each other? The answer is, thankfully, much more complicated and fulfilling as it not only expands their stories but also a supporting cast full of excitable personalities.

#145. "Peyton Place" by Grace Metalious

In theory, it doesn't take a lot to make a truly shocking work of art. All that one has to do is dig into some moral decay and comment on the grossest parts of humanity. However, there is one lightning rod that has existed over all of pop culture for over half a century now. When Grace Metalious unleashed "Peyton Place" on the world, nobody could expect the legacy it produced while portraying an innocent New England town coming to terms with unpredictable turmoil. There are so many issues that have since been covered in exhaustive detail by true crime nerds, but what makes Metalious' text so essential is how it manages to transcend the soap opera tendencies and discover something painfully recognizable. The novel is as taboo as they come, but not in the empty calories way of a salacious accusation. Instead, it's a perfect embodiment of reality, breaking apart the suburban utopia of the time and suggesting not that things are getting scary, but that they've always been.