A couple of things to let you know about: I’m currently doing a Q&A about The Tapestry of Time on Bookbrowse for the next day or two; please come check it out!

Also, if you’re in Ottawa, please come by the St Laurent shopping centre this afternoon (Friday) for the CBC All in a Day used book sale to raise money for the Ottawa Food Bank, between 3 p.m. and 6 p.m. I’ll be there signing (new) books and doing some on-air shenanigans.

I’ll take a break from this newsletter over the holidays, and be back on Jan. 2.

In the meantime, I thought I’d talk a bit about some of the art that brought me joy this year.

In music, there’s so much, so let’s go with someone new to me and someone I’ve listened to for a long time.

New to me: Jesse Welles. Now I can’t say social media never did anything for me. He’s on regular rotation for everyone in my house now.

As longtime subscribers know, I’ve long been a fan of Basia Bulat. This year I enjoyed her new album, Basia’s Palace. Her concert at the National Arts Centre was a real highlight of 2025, and it was great being able to go with my partner and kid. It was such a celebration of remade traditions and old instruments and the intimacy of live performance.

This was a good year for movies! I just saw the excellent Wake Up Dead Man in the theatre. Frankenstein: so gorgeous. I loved Sinners from beginning to end; my partner and I saw Buddy Guy on stage years ago and that concert has stuck in my mind. My favourite 2025 moment in the theatre was One Battle After Another. There are valid critiques of this movie, and also, I loved it. It left me thinking, it was incredible visually, and Benicio del Toro lays down an all time classic supporting performance.

I went to a few plays this year, including a couple at the Ottawa Little Theatre (Canada’s longest continuously runninig community theatre) of which my favourite was And Then There Were None in the spring, and I saw the amazing Elephant Girls at the Great Canadian Theatre Company. Every time I go to a play, I think “I should go to more plays”, so there’s a vow for 2026.

As for books…

The novel I’m currently writing could be described as a mix of John Crowley and John le Carré, so I guess it is no surprise that when I look back over my reading this year, those two Johns loom very large. I read most of Le Carré’s books this year, and I think my favourite of the bunch was Smiley’s People, although maybe I’m just saying that to be a hipster and avoid saying Tinker Tailor Solder Spy or The Spy Who Came in From the Cold. Honestly, they’re all great.

I also watched all the adaptations, even The Deadly Affair, which was written by Paul Dehn, one of my favourite poets and screenwriters and an all round interesting cat. The Deadly Affair was an adaptation of Call for the Dead, the first George Smiley novel, but because Paramount owned the rights to the name George Smiley, Columbia Pictures changed the protagonist’s name. A good thing too, because James Mason, whatever his talents in general, made an absolutely terrible Smiley, in my humble opinion. It’s an interesting enough film in its own right, and the soundtrack by Quincy Jones is the most 1967 thing you will ever hear.

I love the Russia House movie with Michelle Pfeiffer and Sean Connery; I liked the Little Drummer Girl adapatation; and The Constant Gardener film was very good. The Richard Burton adaptation of The Spy Who Came in from the Cold (also written in part by Paul Dehn) is a classic for a reason, but I find the on-screen Leamas much more detestable than the book one, especially when it comes to his relationship with Liz/Nan. In the film version, it is hard to see why on earth she finds him compelling at all, given that presumably no one has told her he’s the protagonist and she’s supposed to.

Much as I love Gary Oldman’s performance, for me the perfect Smiley on screen is Alec Guinness, who portrayed him in two BBC series (Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy and Smiley’s People). Those series also hew much more closely to the novels than the 2011 film does.

I have not yet read Nick Harkaway’s novel Karla’s Choice, but I’m hoping to soon.

As for Crowley, I finally read Little, Big this year, and as wonderful as it is, I don’t think it’s my favourite of his works, which feels a bit sacrilegious to say. Again, maybe I’m just being a hipster. Maybe it just depends on where you begin with his work; I started with his later books, like Flint and Mirror and Ka: Dar Oakley in the Ruin of Ymr. This year I also read the first Aegypt novel, The Solitudes, and was blown away by its slow, careful mastery.

I hope your 2026 holds many beautiful works of art.