The past couple of reading years have been the right blend of challenging and fun for me—so my plans for 2026 won’t vary much. But I’ll share a few specifics, just in case any of the books I’m eyeing are on anyone else’s TBR or figuring in your 2026 plans: I love to read in company, especially new and challenging books (but also old and beloved ones).

#ShelfofMexico

Renaming part of my bookcase #shelfofmexico after the current American administration renamed the Gulf of Mexico revealed just how narrow my experience of Mexican literature has been. Carlos Fuentes’ Great Latin American Novel (2011; translated by Brendan Riley, 2016) has brought countless new-to-me writers and books onto my TBR and into my stacks. Despite more than half of my reading in 2024 being by writers of colour, I could count the South American writers on one hand, and 2025 revealed some of what I’ve been missing. This year I’m planning to read some author interviews alongside more fiction. What Latin American (or Spanish-language) writers are in your stacks for 2026?

Filling the Gaps

I’ve read approximately one Latin American classic (by Machado de Assis), but I’ve also missed quite a few western canonical classics along the way. Maybe this will be the year for Walter Scott’s Ivanhoe, and I hope to read some more Chekov, and I’m absolutely loving Proust’s neverending sentences. Solidly on the list are lesser-known classics by Aphra Behn, Eliza Haywood, and Delarivier Manley from the early 18th century, inspired by Dale Spender’s Mothers of the Novel and Regan Penaluna’s How to Think Like a Woman (which I read for an event Bill hosted last year that invited us to think about the early writing that inspired canonical writers). Has your relationship to reading classics changed over time?

Series

On the CanLit scene, I stalled last year in rereading/reading Michel Tremblay’s Mont-Royal series in French (because my copies are sit-at-a-table copies, and my reread of Middlemarch this year claimed all that time) so I’m already rereading the first volume (its opening and closing scenes, with the three sisters knitting, are true favourites). And starting July 14th, I’ll begin reading the first of nine volumes in Marie Claire-Blais’ Soifs series—but in English translations. The first is These Festive Nights, originally published in 1995, reissued in House of Anasi’s handsome A-List series, and translated by Sheila Fischman. It’s 312 pages long; it’s also one sentence long. Do you have a series project in mind that you routinely overlook?

Mini-Binges

Over the past two years, Lorna Sage’s twelve essays about women writers were so inspiring, I’ve selected six other women writers myself, planning to read some of their fiction over a month and related works the next: Julia Alvarez, Alexis Wright, Leslie Marmon Silko, Annie Ernaux, Olga Tokarczuk, and Gish Jen. Starting with Julia Alvarez, which will also require more listening than has been my habit in recent years; I need to practice navigating through audio files, because I always want to revisit passages or sections, so I hope it gets easier, as I would like to listen more often. Are you a good listener?

Months-long

In 2024, I really loved reading slowly through Ibram X. Kendi’s Stamped from the Beginning over about six months, and last year I read Tanya Talaga’s The Knowing over several weeks (it was a borrowed copy, I had to rush a little). This year I’ve pulled David Graeber and David Wengrow’s The Dawn of Everything from the shelf. It has twelve chapters, perfect for scheduling either one or two chapters each month (let’s see how it goes), and it challenges the ideas in some other books I’ve enjoyed—by writers like Charles Mann and Jared Diamond—so I’m quite curious. Is there an intimidating tome in your 2026 plans?

Bookishness

Last year, Mr. BIP treated me to a bunch of new memoirs and essays, all bookish. Usually I hoard this kind of book, distracted by the idea that I should read more other books in connection to them first, but this year I’m going to blunder into them sequentially. And though I have Bron’s year of reading Non-Fiction in mind, I’m unlikely to post about very many of these here, so I’m not sure my plans are suited for a year-long group undertaking. Two of the skinniest volumes in the stack are Stacey D’Erasmo’s The Long Run: A Creative Inquiry and Edwidge Danticat’s We’re Alone: Essays, but maybe I won’t read them all this year. Are you lazy as I am about reading the books gifted to or recommended to you? 

As a notoriously moody reader, these ideas are just specific enough (the Mont-Royal and Soifs series, The Dawn of Everything, and six specific writers but not specific books) to give me the sense of selecting while still having some goals in mind. I hope there’s just enough structure here to curb the doom-scrolling and to fan the fires of curiosity instead. 

If your reading interests align, feel free to cmment and maybe we can plan to read something together. If I’ve missed your 2026 post about goals, intentions, ideas for reading this year, please feel free to link below and I’ll catch up. Regardless, I hope we’ve all got super-satisfying reading years ahead of us in 2026!