The Covid-19 period has been difficult for everyone—for millions here in America and around the world, it has been more than difficult—it has been heart-wrenching and tragic. The truth is we’ve all had to cope, some of us more than others. A friend asked recently if there was one positive thing that happened or resulted because of this pandemic. The answer was that I could point to one benefit: more time at home meant more time to read.

I’ve also lucked out in that the books which came my way provided exceptionally great reading experiences. At the beginning of the year, before Covid, I was browsing books on display in one of our local independent bookstores (lucky us: we have three) and picked up Do You Mind if I Cancel by Gary Janetti. I read the first page and started laughing. I was hooked. This memoir by Janetti is wonderfully honest and funny, refreshing in its direct and open recounting of the experiences that shaped him. He holds nothing back—his youthful vanity, his passionate views and opinions, his fantasies and dashed illusions.

The next great find was Tokyo Fiancée by Amelie Nothomb. Here’s my three-word review: elegant, stunning, brilliant. The novel begins in 1989, when our Belgium-born author is living in Tokyo. She decides the best way to learn Japanese is to teach French. She takes on one student who is handsome, intelligent and wealthy. Her exchanges with Rinri about language, culture, food, and all things Japanese are by turns funny, fascinating, engaging and often utterly surprising. Though she and Rinri become lovers, Amelie’s strong sense of her individual identity takes the affair to an unexpected conclusion. There were passages and pages in this book when I was dazzled by Nothomb; as soon as I finished Tokyo Fiancée I sought out her other books. Too few have been translated from the French, but I did secure Fear and Trembling, which is a shattering tale of her experience in the world of the Japanese corporation.

The next great book, given to me by a friend, was Buddha in the Attic by Julie Otsuka. This book broke my heart and introduced me to the world of the “picture brides,” a group of young women brought from Japan to San Francisco in the early 19th century. Being with them through their trials, tribulations, and occasional small victories, from their first virginal days all the way to becoming wives and mothers, then being ostracized and sent to internment camps during World War II—all of it is a difficult yet deeply rewarding journey.

One autumn evening after reading Buddha in the Attic, I was listening to a Literary Arts program on the radio and heard the author Min Jin Lee. I loved her voice, her humor, the way she spoke of her experiences as a writer, a woman, a student. I found her novel Pachinko, which turned out to be one of the great novels of my lifetime. It is an epic saga about four generations of a Korean family, what they endure and the ways they triumph over a period of eight decades. Pachinko is magnificent.

Now it is December and this horrendous year is nearly over. I wish you, and all of us, a brighter, better 2021 and good books to come your way, always.