My overall favorite of 2024 was A ROVER’S STORY by my dear friend Jasmine Warga. As I said in last year’s roundup over at We Heart YA’s new Substack…

“I love how Warga was able to imbue so much humanity into a story about cute, adventurous little robots! It’s an absolute gem of a book, one that I think would appeal to readers of all ages.”

THE TEN THOUSAND DOORS OF JANUARY was also exactly my jam — like The Time Traveler’s Wife meets Laini Taylor, full of magic and hope — and it definitely got me obsessed with Alix E. Harrow for a while.

Andy recommended A GENTLEMAN IN MOSCOW to me, and although it took time to build up, I did find Count Rostov, his friends, and their adventures in the Metropol hotel to be immensely charming.

I picked up THE HENNA ARTIST after attending the San Francisco Writers Conference, where the author Alka Joshi was a keynote speaker. She also taught a panel that I quite enjoyed, about weaving sensory details into one’s writing. Her novel definitely does that, transporting readers to Jaipur in Northern India, and I really liked how it featured so many different women trying to be strong in so many different ways.

—

By 2025, we were fairly well settled into Guangzhou, so I was able to make reading more of a priority and habit again.

At long last, I dove into the world of Elena Ferrante, specifically her Neapolitan Quartet, which clocks in at something like 1700 pages across the four books. To be honest, I didn’t really notice the length, partly because I read on my Kindle, and partly because I was so immersed in the characters and their world. It flew by.

More of my thoughts about these books:

• “Stories That Cast a Spell” (Writer Unboxed)
• About the genius of their titles (Instagram)

Apart from the My Brilliant Friend series, I also especially enjoyed these:

In SLOW DANCE, Rainbow Rowell continues to excel at compelling relationships and witty banter.

THE WEDDING PEOPLE was heavier, wiser, and more comedic than I had expected.

And HOMESEEKING unspools a diaspora love story across Shanghai, Taiwan, Hong Kong, New York, and California. My own connection to those places and cultures definitely added to the reading experience.

—

Hopefully 2026 will prove to be a robust reading year as well. I’m always happier when I’m reading.

Click here for previous years’ favorite reads.

Two notes:

1. Botero said oranges are the hardest things to paint, because their form is so simple, but each artist has to add their own perspective.
2. The blue neon sign says “Artists Continue To Try Hard.”

The conference was a way of dipping my toes back into the publishing world. I have definitely been “out of the game” since my kids were born, and I’m ready to come off the bench. But a lot has changed since then, and on top of that, I feel a bit rusty.

Before the conference, I had been toying with the idea of pursuing an MFA. After the conference, I was sure of it. Graduate studies had always been in the plans — I even took the GRE — but upon graduating from college, I felt the “real world” beckoning instead. As the years passed, I figured I would probably never get my MFA after all. It wasn’t until last winter that I started thinking about it again. Only now, I’m not trying to follow my parents’ expectations or impress anyone. I just want to learn and grow as a writer. I want the structure of a formal program, and the immersion in craft and community. I want to work toward a big, tangible goal — and walk away having earned something concrete at the end of it.

But the universe loves a curveball, haha. So in the spring, we learned that Andy’s company would be sending him to China for the next three years.

The good news is, living abroad has also long been a dream of mine, as has improving my Chinese. So this is an incredible, unique opportunity for me and my family. We’ve been in Guangzhou for a little over two months so far, and it feels like the adventure is just getting started.

In the meantime, I’m still writing on my own. And those graduate programs will still be there when I’m ready.

My faves of 2022:

GOOD TALK: A graphic memoir with bounce that belies its depth.

MINOR FEELINGS: A cutting book of essays on the Asian-American experience.

Both resonated deeply with me.

THREE KEYS: A great continuation of Kelly Yang’s FRONT DESK series, which we now own in its entirety, for both my kids and myself to enjoy.

HIGH HOW WE GO IN THE DARK: Wow. Interlinked, literary, speculative stories revolving around a pandemic. Andy read the book before I did, and he was quite sure that I would enjoy it, but for a long time I wasn’t ready. Our own real-world covid pandemic had drained so much out of me. Finally, though, finally I was able to give the book a try, and it was… beautiful. Somber but not a downer. Full of aching, longing, grief, hope. Echoes and ripples.

—

My faves of 2023:

MAKING A SCENE: Didn’t feel like a typical celebrity memoir, but rather a collection of personal essays from someone who happened to become an actress. I especially liked hearing about her time at a monastery in Taiwan; working at a Montana Gold bakery; and sneaking into unfinished houses with her mom and sister.

YELLOWFACE: A wild ride. Buzzy and bold.

FAMILY OF LIARS: Confident and atmospheric. I loved the complicated family relationships, and the use of ghosts and “twisted fairytales.” After reading this prequel, I immediately went back and reread WE WERE LIARS too.

ALL MY RAGE: Tender and explosive. A quiet masterpiece, I think.

THE ANTHROPOCENE REVIEWED: John Green has a beautiful, brilliant, and compassionate mind, and I really enjoy spending time with it. His writing inspires me on many levels.

EVERYONE WANTS TO KNOW: Didn’t think I would care about an influencer family, but Kelly Loy Gilbert proved me wrong. There’s also a layer of humor in this book that I don’t remember in her previous novels. And I think the book’s central theme — authenticity — is becoming more and more important to our society every day.

TOMORROW AND TOMORROW AND TOMORROW: A love letter to gaming, creativity, and friendship.

THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES: A solid addition to the Hunger Games canon. I do think Collins whiffed a little bit at the end, but damn if she doesn’t know how to tell an engaging story.

—

My reading in 2024 so far is not as prolific as 2023, but that’s okay. I’ve had a lot going on.

(Short version: We moved to China for the next 3 years. More on that later. Probably.)

Click here to see previous years’ favorite reads.

Tradition is to celebrate July 4th with fireworks. Big loud explosions of color and light, seen and heard for miles. America loves a spectacle.

But this year, my enthusiasm for our country is not at an all-time high. My faith in our democracy is strained. I tend to believe that history moves in cycles, in pendulum swings, in a rhythm of two steps forward, one step back… So maybe this is normal and natural and will pass. Maybe I needn’t worry so much. 

But I also know that empires fall, and there are some mistakes you can’t undo. 

Well, time will tell. We will vote, we will push for progress, we will raise each generation to do better than the ones before. 

That is the sparkler in my hand tonight. I cannot make great booms in the sky, but I can hold tight to these small lights popping and dancing in the darkness. I can marvel at their brief beauty, and I can believe that it makes a difference. 

The world is beautiful, and the world is terrible.

Sometimes it helps to be reminded of the former.

Sometimes it helps to literally rise above it all. Being suspended in the air — suspended, existing between here and there, then and now — has always brought comfort to me. The sky is everywhere and nowhere all at once. It makes everything seem so small.

And smallness can feel like an antidote when all the bigness of life has become a disease.

On our first night of vacation, we slept for 12 hours straight.

We woke to sun streaming in through the windows, and the hum of the surf kissing the shoreline over and over and over. Flowers falling over themselves to grace the grounds and the buildings. Fresh juice, island vibes, and the day stretching out before us as unencumbered as the stray cats sauntering around.

At night, the tree frogs shrilled like birds. Or alarms. It was a strange noise. But you get used to it.

You can get used to anything, I suppose.

The world is terrible, and the world is beautiful.

I’m back home now, and glad to be. I needed the break, but I also missed my kids, my house, my regular life. It’s a good one.

Getaways aren’t meant to last forever. But sometimes it helps to escape for a bit.

Actually I did share my favorite kidlit reads of 2021 over with We Heart YA way back in February, but I would like to add a couple adult titles to the list here, and maybe say a few little things.

Although my reading time is limited in this season of my life, I seem to be doing a good job selecting books for myself. Most have been hits, and I don’t think any have been bad. Out of 16 books/stories read last year, these were the ones I loved — and you can see that I have listed 11. That’s almost all of them!

One of my favorite things about this collection of books is how connected I am to them in various ways. I share an agent with two of the authors (Brandy Colbert and Kelly Yang). I was already friends with three of the authors (Jasmine Warga, Becky Wallace, Margot Wood) and became friends with another (Meredith Ireland). Seven of the books deal with being either Asian or mixed race or both.

Three books I want to spotlight a bit further are:

Becoming – OK, I’m not saying it’s reasonable to compare Andy to Barack, or me to Michelle… but I did identify a lot with being a smart, ambitious, highly competent person who had a certain idea of how her life was going to go, and then meeting and falling in love with someone who was on a completely different kind of trajectory. And having to take a step back from your own dreams, in some ways, in order to support your partner and accommodate their brilliant and demanding ascent. (Also, Michelle’s writing was warm, and surprisingly funny.)

When We Were Infinite – This contemporary YA novel centers on a quiet, anxious halfie and her intensely close group of Asian-American friends. Although the plot differs from my own high school experience, that emotional core was like a mirror. One I’ve never seen so clearly in fiction before. Because how many stories are there (at least in Western media) where every single main character is Asian? And where their Asian-ness is not the point of the story, but just part of who they are and how they live? I kept thinking of my own close friends from high school, and wishing we could experience reading about “us” all together.

Crying in H Mart – Speaking of mirrors… This bracingly candid memoir by musician Michelle Zauner explores the deep and difficult relationship she had with her immigrant mother (who dies of cancer during the events of the story) and with her Korean heritage. Again, the “plot” of Zauner’s life is not particularly similar to mine, and yet, there are so many common threads between us that reading her book helped me rediscover pieces of myself. Also, the beautiful food descriptions, and loving memories of Asian supermarkets, reminded me of how much those things played a part in my own upbringing, and inspired me to encourage similar cultural touchstones for my own mixed Asian kids.

Here are Andy’s favorite reads of 2021:

Click here to see previous years’ favorite reads.

Happy Mother’s Day.

Earlier this week, after news broke that the Supreme Court intends to overturn Roe v Wade, thereby robbing certain people (myself included) of our bodily autonomy and full reproductive choices, I called every single one of my representatives. This is what I said:

—

Hello. My name is Kristan Hoffman, and I am a constituent from the city of Cincinnati. I wanted to call last night, but I needed time. Time to stop vibrating with dread. Now I am ready to act, and I need you to be too. I need you to do everything in your power to protect me, and all women, all girls, all people who could possibly bear children.

I am a mother. I have been pregnant twice, have given birth twice, and am now raising two amazing children who I love deeply. I chose to have them, and I chose when to have them, and I choose not to have anymore. I have the right to my own body. I have EVERY right to my own body, just as a man does.

I’m sure you’ve heard this, but I’ll mention it again, just in case, because I think there is no other argument — nothing about viability, or about the sanctity of life, or about any of these points that we all can debate till the cows come home — there is just this one fact that makes everything so crystal clear:

If someone is dying, and I am the only person in the entire world who can save them with some part of my body — my heart, my lung, my blood, my anything — still I cannot be forced to give it to them. Not even if their injury is the consequence of my actions. Nobody — not a judge, not a doctor, not my partner, nobody — can compel me to sacrifice a part of my body unwillingly to save another person’s life.

Because that is a fundamental human right. And it must be enshrined into law.

That is your job. Please go do it.