(Some serious catch-up here: I read some of these six months ago or more)

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, J.K. Rowling
A perfect airplane book. It came out a day before my flight. I started it at the SeaTac airport and finished it on approach to Tokyo; left it on the plane for the next person. I was satisfied with the conclusion, but I do feel that the only part of the series with really exceptional writing was the last third of book 3 and the whole of book 4.

Death of an Expert Witness, P.D. James
Grabbed it from the university library on a whim, enjoyed it. No particular hurry to read more.

The Dark Tower series, Steven King
It's Steven King's magnum opus, for better and worse. It reads like he just wrote it on the fly, which he pretty much did. If you like King enough to want to spend a million words with him, you'll like it. The atmosphere is great, the characters are sometimes great. The horror and scary level is mostly cranked way down. Despite the length, it's not really that Epic, partly because not all that much happens and partly because of the claustrophobic feeling of being in just enough of a world for him to tell his story (the opposite of Tolkien Syndrome). The last three books, especially, feel somewhat like playing a computer game, as you go from location to location, and then back, and then find the widget, and then go back to that one place where the widget reveals a secret door, and then see what's back there, and then go back to that other place and now you see that the guard you killed happened to land on top of the other widget, that's why you didn't see it the first time and wasted two hours before you searched google for a cheat guide, and all the time you are alone, and the computer-generated characters walking in their computer-generated routes for you to sneak past just make you even more alone, with only your thoughts for company. That kind of feeling. Except that you're alone with Steven King's thoughts.

Arthur and George, Julian Barnes
This is Literature in the best sense; you get sucked in and just keep reading and it gradually dawns on you that what you are reading is immaculately awesome in conception and execution. This and Sacred Games were easily the two best books I read in 2007.

Mao: The Untold Story, Jung Chang and Jon Halliday
I already had a sense that Mao was a villain for all time and an equal partner with Stalin and Hitler as the most heinous mass murderers of all time. This book fills in a lot of details, and takes it a step further. It's a very thorough attempt to paint pretty much everything Mao ever did as an act of calculated evil. I understand that the quality or provability of some of the research is under attack. Many people seem to have recoiled just at the intensity and completeness of the argument, taking the position that any description which is so one-sided must be somewhat exaggerated. I don't see that as a logical rebuttal, but I do have my own issues with the narrative, especially the account of Mao during the war period (Long March to 1949). The authors attempt to explain almost all of Mao's successes and escapes as consequences of Mao's masterful manipulations of friends, rivals, allies, and enemies. Given the slender evidence for some allegations, they don't seem to hold up well to Occam's razor. Isn't it more likely that some of his opponents just screwed up or were stupid, rather than that he pulled all of the puppet strings all of the time?

I don't see those kinds of issues as wholly discrediting the book. I learned a lot, even though I found it so horribly depressing that I couldn't read too many pages at a sitting, and ended up setting it aside about two thirds of the way through. Anyone who has a positive or mixed opinion about Mao must be seeing the evidence through very rose-colored glasses; the genuine debate seems to be only about if he's purely evil to the last cell, or just really, really evil.

One Jump Ahead, Mark L. Van Name
A pulpy sci-fi story. I bought it on the strength of the first page or two; it passed the time and had some style but didn't seem especially novel or well-plotted.

Ghost Brigades, John Scalzi
More of the same from Scalzi; it's good, but like diet soda has some weird, unpalatable aftertaste. SPOILER: It may be related to the debate (sorry, couldn't find a link quickly) about whether it's fair to criticize the fascist tone of the earlier book when that tone may represent the narrator's views rather than Scalzi or the world Scalzi has created, or it may just be something about his writing almost but not quite rubbing me the right way.

The Omnivore's Dilemma, Michael Pollan
Almost everything we (in the United States) eat contains corn. A typical fast food meal may be predominantly corn, in that corn is the input stock to industrial processes that make sweeteners, thickeners, and a myriad of other "ingredients". This is because corn is the most efficient crop at converting sunlight to energy; soy is the most efficient at converting sunlight to protein and so soy is the other main crop in the US. Corn as the foundation of industrial farming is really bad for society for many reasons, not least of which because the corn ecosystem requires huge inputs of petroleum. The proximate cause of this is really destructive farm subsidies and policies.

The book is, for the most part, ultra-readable. Pollan does a lot of hands-on research into farming and the corn industry, including spending time on a modern factory farm and on a smaller, more natural farm which integrates agriculture and livestock in a labor-intensive and astoundingly productive enterprise. The parts where he collects all of the ingredients for his own home-cooked meal are probably the least engaging, but the book has definitely changed how I look at manufactured food.

Uncommon Carriers, John McFee
Like the Omnivore's Dilemma, this book starts tremendously, with very gripping details about mundane infrastructure, and then peters out as the author gets more personal. The stories about a long-distance trucker, a coal train, a Missisippi barge crew; all fantastic and give you a wonderful sense of being there.

1634: The Baltic War, Eric Flint
I've been enjoying this pleasingly escapist multi-novel story about a modern West Virginian coal town transplanted to 17th century Germany, but experiencing diminishing returns. At first I thought I was just getting tired of the story, but then I read this and realized that the real problem is that the writing is degenerating into a "Mary Sue" story. The moderns always face small setbacks but overcome them with ingenuity and steadfast leadership; the locals get entranced by good old American values; it seems like every book features plucky, scared but brave American teenagers getting over their heads in world affairs and having beautiful, progressive 17th century teenagers fall in love with them and it always works out. I liked the ideas, trying to figure out how 17th century culture would interact with 20th century small-town Americans; the pro-union bent of the authors; seeing how you might try to reconstruct modern industrial technology almost from scratch. But the execution has completely turned me off, and I've stopped reading this series, probably a book or two too late.

Star Trek: Swordhunt, Star Trek: Honor Blade, Star Trek: The Empty Chair, Diane Duane
The Romulan Way remains my favorite Star Trek book ever (not meaning to damn with faint praise); these sequels extend the story in a fairly unsatisfactory way. Spoiler: How come it seems like every Diane Duane book (Star Trek or otherwise) has the same climax, as the diverse good guys, now bonded as BFFs, pluckily march once more unto the breach with some sort of reality-bending mystical energy thing as background, a la Madeleine L'Engle? Counting My Enemy, My Ally, Duane uses this ending twice in the same series, not to mention all her non-Trek books. It seems like the Mary Sue virus is at work here too.