Merissa's Year in Books
- Archaeolibrarian
- 4 hours ago
- 2 min read
I realised recently that I never really paused to acknowledge it properly, but over the course of 2025, I read 552 books, a number that still feels slightly unreal when I see it written down. It works out at more than one book a day, not as a challenge or a target, but simply as the natural rhythm of how reading has fitted into my life this year.
I have always been a speed reader, something that often comes with assumptions about rushing or missing details, but for me, it has never worked that way. Stories settle into my mind quickly and completely, emotions land where they are meant to, and meaning stays with me long after I finish. I also have aphantasia, so I don't see pictures in my mind when I read; yet, that has never lessened my connection to stories. I experience books through emotion, pacing, dialogue, and the weight of the words themselves, and that connection is every bit as rich. Across the year, my average rating sat at four stars, which feels like a fair reflection of how much enjoyment and engagement those books brought me.
There is something quietly satisfying about the way the year unfolded between its first and last reads. I began 2025 with Consort by Rachel Grey, a five-star book that immediately drew me in, and I ended the year with Worth the Risk by C.F. White, which coincidentally was also a five-star read. Beginning and ending the year on such strong notes feels meaningful in a gentle, understated way.
I am not currently working, though not by choice, and much of the year has been spent looking and applying without success. Reading has filled the spaces left by that uncertainty, not as an escape from effort or responsibility, but as something steady to hold onto alongside it. Books have given me somewhere to rest when the process has been tiring, and somewhere to go when the real world has felt particularly stark. Within their pages, love still tends to win, hope is allowed to survive, and romance remains very much alive.
Reading this year has been more than a pastime. It has been comfort and focus and quiet resilience, something that has accompanied me through long days and quieter evenings, offering consistency when other things have felt unsettled. Each story gave me a place to be for a while, and that mattered more than I can easily explain.
I am also quietly proud to be in the top five per cent of both readers and reviewers on Goodreads. Knowing that my thoughts and reflections might help other readers find stories that speak to them adds a sense of purpose to the time I spend reading.
Five hundred and fifty-two books later, some stayed with me longer than others, but each one gave me something I needed at the time, and now I find myself quietly wondering what this year will bring, and I hope you’ll stick around to find out with me.
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