At the start of 2025, I promised myself something small — to read more. Not for discipline or performance, but for curiosity. I wanted to get lost again, to sit quietly and follow someone else’s rhythm for a while. And for once, I actually kept that promise.
So if you’re still looking for last gifts, here are six books I’d truly recommend — each one stayed with me for different reasons:
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The Vegetarian — Han Kang
A surreal novel that challenged me to stay with it. I struggled to relate to the characters — which, in the end, was the point. It made me realize how far people can go for what they believe in. -
Sonechka — Lyudmila Ulitskaya
A quiet, intelligent story about the fate of a woman. Subtle and beautifully written — one of those books that whispers but lingers. -
The School for Good Mothers — Jessamine Chan
Disturbing and brilliant. A dystopian novel about motherhood and judgment — and how control is often disguised as care. It stayed with me long after the last page. -
We Should All Be Feminists — Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
More of an essay than a story, but essential. It reminded me of the unevenness of being a woman — not only in everyday life, but across geographies. It left me with more empathy and perspective. -
The Catcher in the Rye — J.D. Salinger
Probably one of the best books I’ve ever read. Holden is pure and lost, and his love for his sister saves him — and maybe us. It’s a story about sadness, yes, but also clarity. -
The Great Gatsby — F. Scott Fitzgerald
I didn’t love it at first — the detached narration felt cold. But by the end, it made perfect sense. If we knew everything too easily, we’d lose the mystery. Daisy and Tom will always exist — people living without consequences. -
All My Rage — Sabaa Tahir
A powerful story about those who start life a few steps behind. It reads like a coming-of-age film but carries something heavier — systemic injustice, endurance, love. -
James — Percival Everett
A reimagining of Huckleberry Finn, told from the perspective of an enslaved man. It’s sharp, painful, and revealing — a story about racism, but more deeply about voice and a pencil and the right to one.
Reading them all made me see how fiction reflects life in fragments — some soft, some sharp, all necessary. It reminded me that stories are not escapes, they’re mirrors. And if you’re thinking about your own resolutions for 2026, maybe start with something small, like I did. A book, a page, a pause.