This year really came through reading-wise. Initially, I didn't know what to expect. And I think I was a little surprised to find myself feeling a strong pull right from the beginning of the year to published books. I tried quite a few new-to-me authors with more abandon than I have in recent years—something I'm proud of and hope to continue. Not all of them worked in just an Angie-like way, but regret never entered the room. I passed them on. To the Little Free Libraries in my neighborhood, to the used bookstore down the street that I love, to my own public library in donations. Someone will love them. It didn't have to be me. And I loved giving them that little push along their way to the homes of the people who would soak up their words and hold them tight. What a gift books are. How much I need them and how grateful I am at the end of this year for the ones that came and continued on their way—but most especially for the ones that came to stay. And so, as has long bee...