Between all the books I read this year for BookieMonster, I squeezed in a few others here and there. You already know what I think of the books I’ve reviewed this year, so I thought I’d give you a run down of The Best Books of 2011 (That I Didn’t Blog About).

The Happy Hooker by Debbie Stoller – I wrote an article a year or two ago about the benefits of craft. There are clear mental and physical benefits to working with your hands – it can improve your overall health in measurable ways. So, in a period of me life which is perhaps best summed up as “pretty stink”, I took up crochet. It helped a lot. While I’ve never actually made any of the projects in The Happy Hooker – not even the crocheted bikini -  it has a clear stitch dictionary and a chipper “you can do it!!!” attitude which is nice at any time.

Game of Thrones by George R. R. Martin – I KNOW. It’s a TV show. Let me regain my internet book reviewer and general geek cards by comparing it to Dune. Have you read Dune? Of course you haven’t, no one’s read Dune. Except me. Game of Thrones is like Dune, except good. There’s that same sprawling hierarchy of families and clans and ever-shifting allegiances, struggles for territory, threats which are barely understood, and some wizards and swords and stuff. It might be better if George R. R. Martin wasn’t so intent on teaching me that everyone I love will die. Goodness, 2011′s been a real shitter of a year, huh? But that’s okay – I’m only two hundred pages into the fourth book, so I have approximately a bajillionity more pages of GoT to enjoy.

Anne’s House of Dreams by Lucy Maud Montgomery- I’ve been working through the Anne series again on and off for a couple of years now, and House of Dreams is as far as I’ve gotten. Rereading about Anne’s soul-crushing loss, and watching some of the light go out of her dancing eyes again, as an adult with a better grip on emotions, was even more devastating than the first time around. Plus, it’s the book that taught me the value of trepanning, which is priceless. Rereading is funny – you notice more and more each time.

Usually I like to reread more than I did in 2011. I like to read Dr Zhivargo in the summer – a long cold story for long hot days, and For Whom the Bells Tolls in winter. I like The Pillow Book when I’m feeling pensive, and I like my big pile of New Zealand books any other time.

What I haven’t read this year says as much as what I have read. Books aren’t just words on a page, or volumes on a shelf. They’re the stories we tell ourselves, about who we are, the things we value, and how we see our place in the world.

Here’s to 2012. I hope it’s even better – and even more bookie – than 2011 was.