The Books People Are Reading

But I'm not.

Publishers Weekly has provided a list of the most purchased print books of 2025.

The headline is that the sales of print books continue to increase year-over-year - slightly - but still an increase. For all the sturm and drang about the death of reading, people still seem to be buying physical copies of books. Sales were higher during the peak of the pandemic, but they’ve now settled at a level above pre-pandemic numbers.

Seeing the article and the headline I thought I’d come here and do some thinking - and perhaps celebrating - of the persistence of books in the culture, and maybe even engage in some forward-looking musing about how we may see an increase in interest in books as an alternative to AI and the digital world.

But then I looked at the list of the 20 most purchased print books of 2025 and noticed something interesting. I’ve only read two of them (you can guess which ones and I’ll reveal it at the end):

Maybe this shouldn’t be so surprising. A number of these are kids’ books and I’m not a kid and don’t have any. I did read the first Diary of Wimpy Kid books years ago out of curiosity and maybe a latent wondering if I could think of a suitable copycat concept and came away respecting the originality of vision of authors like Jeff Kinney.

The list is also thick with romantasy, a genre that I’ve written previously just isn’t for me.

I assume the Mel Robbins book is self-help, which…no. I’m sure I need as much help as anyone, but I do not turn to these sorts of books for it. Atomic Habits falls into this category as well. I’m sure if I could follow whatever it recommends I would be a more organized, productive, and successful person, but I’m also certain that I am incapable of sticking with those habits, so reading it would only make me feel like a failure.

The secret to my success is to have reasonable expectations for myself and the world around me.

I read the first three installments of Suzanne Collins’ Hunger Games series over the course of a vacation years ago, but have no interest in dipping back into the universe. I’ve read The DaVinci Code also, but ditto for Robert Langdon’s adventures. I am aware of Frieda Mcfadden and believe I understand the appeal of her novels, but if I’m in the mood for a psychological thriller I have Megan Abbott, Laura Lippman, Ruth Ware, Lisa Lutz, and others who make what I believe to be much more pleasing sentences to turn to.

I’d never heard of Lights Out, which is described as a “dark romance” and went viral on TikTok. Again, not my thing. So, here I am a professional book person who hasn’t read any of the best selling books.

Is it meaningful that the most purchased print books of the year exist almost entirely outside so-called “literary culture”?

I think yes, but also, no. It is for sure a reminder that the culture churns away under its own momentum well outside the chatter of people (like me) who pay outsized attention to a particular slice of it, and because of that attention may have a skewed sense of what’s going on in the world. In some ways it reminds me of the intersection of the terminally online and politics, where some people (like me) are far too aware of every last outrage and can’t imagine a person who is not informed at this level.

In a recent Chicago Tribune column I called Solvej Balle’s On the Calculation of Volume a “phenomenon” and in the realm of literary fiction, particularly fiction in translation this is true, but it has sold a tiny fraction of the books on this list. This is not a book that could ever find favor with Jenna, Reese, or Oprah.

I’m thinking on the fly a bit here, but “book culture” - the mass of people who read and write about books as objects of meaning and fascination - is, and perhaps always has been rather small. Books and writers used to be much more prominent in society for sure - Gore Vidal and James Baldwin making the rounds on television shows, for example - but even in that golden age, the best selling books were Love Story and Jonathan Livingston Seagull and the like. Through this lens we can maybe take some encouragement from the persistence of books that are simply enjoyed by readers and purchased in significant quantities.

Every so often the publicity machinery cranks into gear for a literary fiction title, attempting to wedge its way into the broader popular conversation. This is happening as we speak for Lost Lambs by Madeline Cash, which is getting play in major print and online media in a way that happens for very few debut novels.

It is impossible to discern what leads to these sorts of conflagrations of attention around a single title/author. Cash has some serious writer credentials and edits a cultishly popular journal. The book is billed as a comedy about a dysfunctional family, compared to both Jonathan Franzen’s The Corrections and the work of Kevin Wilson, and infused with lots of punning/verbal wordplay. Overall, an attractive package.

Not to me because I have a deep aversion to puns, but I bet the book is quite good, because beyond the fact that there is some marketing muscle ($$$$$$) behind it, this has the whiff of some genuine enthusiasm from the sort of people (like me) who hope to see books be a larger part of the broader cultural conversation. It’s a proxy for a larger desire from a particular corner of the world that every so often coalesces. It’s not wholly organic - it’s clearly well-organized - but it’s not B.S. either when there’s substance behind it.

Like, it’s become fashionable to sneer at last year’s indie rock sensation, Geese, because of what appears to be their sudden ubiquity, but the fact is that Geese kicks ass.

Are there lots of bands you’ll never know exist who are also great? Yes, but that doesn’t mean the one everyone is hyped about isn’t really good. Same goes for books.

Will this phenomenon translate into sales? Here’s a bet I will make: Lost Lambs will sell better than the overwhelming majority of literary novels this year because the overwhelming majority of literary novels get published in such a way that very few people know they’ve even come into existence.

At the same time, I will be genuinely surprised if Lost Lambs is on next year’s list of 20 bestselling books in print.

Oh, and the two books on this list that I’ve read? The Very Hungry Caterpillar, which came out the year before I was born and was read to me probably hundreds of times, and Oh, the Places You’ll Go! which I received three copies of as a graduation gift from high school, even though my mom owned a bookstore.

Links

This week at the Chicago Tribune I covered Natasha Stagg’s arresting coming-of-age novel, Grand Rapids.

At Academic Freedom on the Line I discussed why the president of Harvard’s desire for “objectivity” in the classroom is not consistent with the values of academic freedom or the best practices for learning.

"Objectivity" in the Classroom Is Not Consistent with Academic Freedom

Really interesting discussion here between authors Vauhini Vara and Karan Mahjan and the hosts of Fiction Nonfiction Podcast about what happens if humans like AI fiction.

This interview with Madeline Cash should give you a good sense of what she’s up to with Lost Lambs. Her list of inspirations has me nodding in approval, but I don’t know…the puns!

Marcus Luther and Adrian Neibauer are two teachers talking about reading.

Recommendations

1. Hush Hush by Laura Lippman,
2. Perfection by Vincenzo Latronico
3. Normal People by Sally Rooney
4. The Glass Hotel by Emily St. John Mandel
5. Careless People by Sarah Wynn-Williams

Heather H. - New York, NY

Perfection is a literary novel that didn’t come out of nowhere exactly, but based on a combo of critical acclaim and award attention has become a breakout title in literary fiction. For Heather I’m recommending a book I recommend often, Let the Northern Lights Erase Your Name by Vendela Vida.