We’re nearing the end of December, so it’s once again time for my favorite annual post: my annual favorites post! This is where I share the best sci-fi and fantasy I read from this year. I write two versions of my Recommended Reading List each year, one in December when reviewers start dropping their favorites, and an update at the end of February once I’ve had the chance to catch up on everyone else’s recommendations. 

There is far too much excellent sci-fi and fantasy published each year for any one person to keep up with, so this list will inevitably leave out some great works. I read a lot of 2025 publications—27 novels, 11 novellas, 59 novelettes, and 173 short stories—but there’s plenty that I just didn’t get to. And taste is idiosyncratic, so there will surely be some of your favorites that aren’t mine and vice versa. That’s just how this works. But everything on this list has my hearty recommendation, and I’ve tried to explain just what elements have captured my imagination, so as to better help others determine which ones may hit for them. 

As I did last year, I’ve split this list into Top-Tier Favorites and Honorable Mentions. The Honorable Mentions come with shorter descriptions because there are too many good stories, and I have to do something to rein in the avalanche of text. But they’re still real good, y’all—even as I was writing this post, I constantly found myself remembering what I loved so much about the stories and wishing I’d given myself more space. It’s a good problem to have. 

Listings within each category are alphabetical by author name. Links in the novel headers go to full reviews. Short fiction links go to free versions of the stories, where applicable. Length categories are broken out by the thresholds used in Hugo Award categorization. Let’s get to it:

Novel

Top-Tier Favorites

• Shroud by Adrian Tchaikovsky (Orbit). For returning Tchaikovsky fans, this will be a familiar sort of excellence: a survival tale on a hostile planet that leans hard into some fascinating xenobiology and the increasingly frayed mental state of the stranded pair. The anticapitalist commentary—again, a Tchaikovsky staple—is made more effective by the way it lingers in the background, letting the harrowing survival tale take center stage. 
• There Is No Antimemetics Division by qntm (Ballantine). This rewrite of an indie cult favorite introduces beings of extraordinary power who remain hidden through psychological camouflage that prevents human minds from remembering them. This prompts the obvious question of how humanity can defend against something whose existence it cannot remember. More a conceptual tale than a character one—almost every chapter starts with the perspective characters having forgotten what came before—it’s both fascinating and gripping from start to finish. 

Honorable Mentions

• A Drop of Corruption by Robert Jackson Bennett (Del Rey). Fans of The Tainted Cup can expect more of the same in a sequel that sees the lead in a new region and solving a new mystery that’s intimately connected to the weirdness of the world. 
• The Memory Hunters by Mia Tsai (Erewhon). A thrilling tale of uncovering suppressed history with plenty of commentary on ownership of cultural artifacts, all in a gorgeous, Appalachian-inspired setting. 
• The Merge by Grace Walker (Mariner). A literary dystopian thriller that stands out from its subgenre in the way it plays with memory, this stars a mother/daughter pair exploring an experimental technology to cure the former’s Alzheimer’s, ultimately delivering a psychologically claustrophobic tale where even one’s own mind cannot be trusted. 

Novella

Top-Tier Favorite

• The Apologists by Tade Thompson (Clarkesworld). What starts as the investigation into a serial killer hides a deeper mystery underneath, slowly unspooling subtle hints that the London setting is not quite what it seems. The sense of uneasy anticipation makes this impossible to put down, and it comes together in a way that provides closure for both plot and characters. 

Honorable Mention 

• The Chronolithographer’s Assistant by Suzanne Palmer (Asimov’s). A tale of coming-of-age and working through grief, with long stretches that feel like slice-of-life before unfolding the time travel elements that lead to a high-stakes finish. 

Novelette

Top-Tier Favorites

• Our Echoes Drifting Through the Marsh by Marie Croke (Beneath Ceaseless Skies). Giant, carnivorous waders have driven the lead’s people out of the marshes where their ancestors’ memories remain visible, creating a simmering division between those who prioritize their safety and those who will take great risks to glimpse lost loved ones. The worldbuilding is tremendous here, but the show-stopper is the complicated conflicts that arise even within families, with an ending that’s all the more compelling for its moral ambiguity. 
• Four People I Need You to Kill Before the Dance Begins by Louis Inglis Hall (Clarkesworld). It’s titled like a revenge story, but the vast majority of the narrative is concerned with the explanation as to why the four people need killing. And doing so requires understanding a fascinating group of nonhuman protagonists, along with the axes of power and oppression in their icy world. The vengeance plot gives it closure, but it’s the world, atmosphere, and themes that make it exceptional.
• Something Rich and Strange by L.S. Johnson (GigaNotoSaurus). One of three or four 2025 tales impressive enough to break through my typical aversion to body horror to make my favorites list, this opens with the lead beginning a transformation she’d tried desperately to avoid, returning to her isolated hometown for a final confrontation with her mother. The horrifying beauty of the prose and sharp terror of the lead’s perspective make this a remarkably compelling read, but it’s the strange ambiguity of the ultimate transformation that makes it so memorable, as it wonderfully captures the feeling of dreading a change you cannot possibly understand until it’s done. 
• The Name Ziya by Wen-yi Lee (Reactor). Another wonderfully complicated novelette, featuring a lead who must carve the magic of her name from her body to fund her place at an elite school that provides rich opportunity while scorning her people as uncivilized. There are jaw-droppingly sharp passages on cultural appropriation, and yet the tale somehow maintains the uncomfortable balance between the lead hating a society that takes so much and yet loving the life it gives her. Tremendous, tremendous work. 
• Woman Like Stone Like Water by Malda Marlys (Beneath Ceaseless Skies). It’s a prehistoric tale starring a reclusive woman in the habit of hiding in the rocks and trees when various tribes visit the waterfall she calls home. Experienced readers can predict that the story will turn on an event that forces her out of solitude, but it’s the mythic voice and the gradual revelations of the truth behind her mysterious power over the stones that make this story exceptional. It reads like a legend and yet is thoroughly grounded in the perspective of a limited character who still doesn’t understand her own abilities. 
• Liecraft by Anita Moskát (Apex). Set in a world staving off poisonous air and crumbling buildings only through the magical power of lies, this spotlights a woman whose life work is to serve her city by inflicting a series of cruel deceits on her hapless husband. But her own growing feelings complicate the mission, building to an emotionally devastating conclusion only intensified by the ubiquitous lies forcing a small moment of questioning before any revelation hits home.
• The Tin Man’s Ghost by Ray Nayler (Asimov’s). A nuclear proliferation story in an alternate history where alien technology has enabled both teleportation and excavation of the memories of the dead, this dives both into the big, philosophical questions about weapons research and into the minds of those who might be able to do something about it. Nayler fans will recognize the setting and characters from other stories, but this serves as an effective standalone that both makes you think and makes you feel. 
• Never Eaten Vegetables by H.H. Pak (Clarkesworld). Set on a far-flung human colony trying to scratch out an existence decades after the disaster that slashed their population far below necessary levels, this features a lead trying to keep her people free from the tyranny of powerful, off-planet stakeholders, all while digging into the details of the tragedy that had shaped her world, plumbing the mind of the shipboard AI blamed for it all. The story slowly peels back layers of deception and moral dilemmas, yielding a tale with plenty of drama, a lot of heart, and fantastic AI characterization. 
• The Starter Family by Sage Tyrtle (GigaNotoSaurus). This is far from the first feminist nightmare in which society views women and children as disposable accessories to a man’s life, but it departs from the norm by being told exclusively from the perspective of one of the privileged, whose eyes are slowly opening to the systemic horrors perpetrated for the sake of his happiness. This breathes new life into an old story, creating a compelling crisis of conscience in the mind of the lead and lending a revolting sharpness to the narrative. 

Honorable Mentions

• Uncertain Sons by Thomas Ha (Uncertain Sons and Other Stories). A weird action-horror tale that’s harrowing and atmospheric, satisfying as a standalone but even better as the capstone of the collection named for it. 
• My Biggest Fan by Faith Merino (Asimov’s). A sci-fi/horror piece that plays fast and loose with time and expertly delivers a nightmarish atmosphere. 
• We, the Fleet by Alex T. Singer (Clarkesworld). A wonderfully executed first-contact story from a nonhuman perspective that slowly opens the leads’ minds to different ways of being. 
• The Temporary Murder of Thomas Monroe by Tia Tashiro (Clarkesworld). A murder mystery in which the resurrected victim slowly mines his own memory to piece together the details, delivering sympathetic characters and excellent, non-linear pacing. 
• Still Water by Zhang Ran, translated by Andy Dudak (Clarkesworld). A two-timeline story split between a boy’s life after an experimental ALS treatment and his mother’s determined efforts to enable that treatment. The two stories on their own are engaging, but the way they fit together makes them something more. 

Short Story

Top-Tier Favorites

• Wilayat in Seven Saints by Tanvir Ahmed (Kaleidotrope). A mythic tale in which a story-collector records the accounts of seven saints from a mysterious interlocutor who speaks as though she has firsthand experience, this is worth reading for the narrative voice but worth remembering for its exploration of the power of stories and the means of resistance even when in the grip of the most powerful tyrants.
• Nine Births on the Wheel by Maya Chhabra (Beneath Ceaseless Skies). This is a retelling of a Hindu religious account, and I cannot comment on its faithfulness to the traditional narrative, but I can certainly praise its emotional power. Even when both readers and characters know the inevitable fate of the lead’s children, her anguished perspective never allows the deaths to fade to a tragic footnote. 
• In My Country by Thomas Ha (Clarkesworld). This feels like a dystopian political satire crossed with weird horror—it clearly has something to say, but it’s not going to draw any simplistic lines to real-world figures or policies. Instead, it’s wonderfully weird and atmospheric, set in a surveillance state with a strict ban on ambiguity, but with the means of surveillance being strange and fantastical instead of cold and technological. The lead is initially unaware of much of the injustice, with a compelling character arc seeing his understanding come only through watching his children’s budding subversion. 
• Cypress Teeth by Natasha King (khōréō). Almost everything I hate in short fiction is somehow pulled together here into something fantastic. It’s a revenge story (dislike) about gods (dislike) with grotesque imagery (dislike) that’s only a few hundred words beyond the flash borderline (dislike). And yet, the prose is lush and immersive, not lingering too long in the grotesque, telling a story of a rivalry that shaped a new land and building up to a possible next chapter in a story that had once seemed to be complete. 
• An Even Greater Cold to Come by Rich Larson (Clarkesworld). Another one with more than a pinch of the grotesque, this is a war story with a child perspective that keeps the reader slightly off balance, bringing the horrors of war to life while eschewing the ordinary descriptions one might expect from adults. The result is a piece that’s immersive and feels almost mythic, with a compelling lead and a conclusion that’s as satisfying as it is shocking. 
• The Tawlish Island Songbook of the Dead by E.M. Linden (Podcastle). A poignant, heartfelt, beautiful tale about a people forced to flee their island home and leave their ancestral ghosts behind. The narrative flits between perspectives, offering the reader tiny glimpses into pivotal moments in a variety of lives, all told with the voice of the abandoned dead. There are no heroes or villains here, but there’s both joy and heartache all the same. 
• Barbershops of the Floating City by Angela Liu (Uncanny). A standalone tale in the world of the exceptional “Kwong’s Bath,” and this one might be even better. It employs magical haircuts to explore addiction, familial love, and an exploitative class divide, slowly peeling back the layers to expose both horrific secrets and heartwarming sacrifices. An excellent story on so many levels. 
• Catch a Tiger in the Snow by Ray Nayler (Asimov’s). Another story that plays with memory in interesting ways, this features a lead entering into a romance with a woman in the memory-modification business. It’s meditative in the way I expect from Nayler, with very little action and plenty of pondering, both on the mechanisms and implications of memory modification and the intrarelationship class divide.  There’s a bittersweet tone that lends emotional weight to the philosophical elements and an ending that brings it all wonderfully home. 
• We Used to Wake to Song by Leah Ning (Apex). Another from the “how did I of all people love a body horror story” stack, this is written from the perspective of a mother who decades before had walked away from her family to become part of the flesh-and-blood reef that she hopes will help heal a dying Earth. The visceral imagery serves as the backdrop to a confrontation between mother and daughter, dead and living, diving into motivations that were much more complicated than just ecological altruism. 
• New Niches by Jackie Roberti (Reckoning). Another meditative tale (I have a type), this features a lead doing a solitary maintenance stint on an offshore wind farm. The loneliness gives her plenty of time to think, with much of the story a reflection on the way that her intense environmental pessimism had led to the end of a relationship with a more hopeful lover, all as the hazards of life at sea slowly open her mind to a new perspective. 

Honorable Mentions

• In Luck’s Panoply Clad, I Stand by Phoebe Barton (Clarkesworld). An arresting portrait of survivor’s guilt, with commentary both on anemic gestures of aid and on the cognitive dissonance of seeking to help without taking up any space. 
• Pollen by Anna Burdenko, translated by Alex Shvartsman (Clarkesworld). A dizzying tale of survival on a hostile planet, opening with a lead hearing the ghosts of her dead family and pushing forward into her struggles to survive in a climate that turns her very mind against her. 
• (Redacted) by Tara Calaby (Kaleidotrope). A short, sharp, and complex piece about a woman suffering a depressive episode and investigating the inexplicable childhood memory gap that may have the answers. 
• Bits and Pieces on the Floor by Eric Del Carlo (Clarkesworld). The story of the evacuation of a planet turns into a complicated family tale that refuses to tie everything into a neat bow. 
• Hi! I’m Claudia by Delilah S. Dawson (Uncanny). A dark chatbot story with nary a likeable character to be found, this one twists where I expected and then does one better. 
• Numismatic Archetypes in the Year of Five Regents by Louis Inglis Hall (Clarkesworld). A tale of political upheaval from the perspective of a coinmaker, this is emotionally sharp and makes excellent use of an unusual structure. 
• Highway 1, Past Hope by Maria Haskins (The Deadlands). A revenge story, but a compelling and well-executed one that wonderfully ties its two subplots together. 
• Steel Holds the Heat’s Memory by Rick Hollon (Kaleidotrope). A heartfelt, bittersweet tale about a girl slowly coming to understand the ways her father has shielded her from the cruelty of those monopolizing the world’s magic, with just enough hope for the future to balance the injustice of the setting. 
• Abstraction Is When I Design Giant Death Creatures and Attraction Is When I Do It For You by Claire Jia-Wen (Clarkesworld). A complex interpersonal tale that sees the lead torn between supporting the career of a gladiatorial lover and aiding the sister who seeks to expose the dark secret behind the monsters. 
• Imperfect Simulations by Michelle Z. Jin (Clarkesworld). A sci-fi scarcity story centering a character with unnatural foresight, with the conflict largely an internal one between his desire to find the optimal path forward and his complicated relationships with the loudest voices in his society. 
• Freediver by Isabel J. Kim (Reactor). The story of a high-stakes diving mishap that shines for its portrayal of a single-minded character who struggles to trust and another who yearns to take on the most dangerous missions. 
• The In-Between Sister by Monte Lin (Translunar Travelers Lounge). An “only one person remembers the disappeared sister” story that exposes the messy family drama underneath. 
• Jackie and Xīng Forever by Wil Magness (Apex). A multiverse story featuring a romance between two people from very different societies who meet in the middleworld. It’s fraught with communication difficulties and builds to a stunner of a finish. 
• The Library of the Apocalypse by Rati Mehrotra (Clarkesworld). A mystical library in a post-apocalyptic world poses questions about what people are living for—and whether the lead will help their compatriots even if it means losing them. 
• Whale Fall of Yours by M.M. Olivas (Uncanny). A non-linear tale about a romance doomed by illness and selfishness…and the opportunity to process grief alongside a dying space leviathan. 
• Codewalker by G.M. Paniccia (The Map of Lost Places). A beautiful, atmospheric nightmare about exploring indie virtual reality programs—even knowing that some sims can kill. 
• Silence, in the Doorway, with the Gun by Nadia Radovich (Flash Fiction Online). A flash fiction about the constraints put on women, making wonderful use of a non-traditional format to play so many possible iterations against each other. 
• Landline by Kelly Robson (Reactor). A tense, atmospheric horror story that sees a mother desperately scrambling to make it home to a child left alone by the mysterious disappearance of his father. 
• Houyi the Archer Fights the Sun by Cynthia Zhang (Podcastle). This is a “legendary heroes deal with 21st century problems” story that’s an absolute joy to read purely for the banter between the titular archer and his wife. 

Miscellaneous Observations 

• Novellas seem to have come back to earth after a 2024 with more than its fair share of excellence in that category. But it seems as though novelettes have stepped into the gap. You can’t throw a rock without hitting an outstanding novelette this year. Narrowing down award nomination ballots will be a difficult task. 
• Publications punching above their weight this year? GigaNotoSaurus, Reckoning, Clarkesworld, and Apex, all of which have more than a sixth of their non-flash original fiction on my list and at least one in the top tier. The first two have pretty small samples, but they were good small samples. Clarkesworld continues to confirm my decision to read everything they publish, even in a year where they had fewer appearances on my list than last year. And Apex is absolutely making a bid for more attention. 
• It’s also worth a shoutout to Beneath Ceaseless Skies, the only magazine other than Clarkesworld to hit my top tier three times this year.
• Regular readers of my blog may recall that I’ve spent the last two years sampling the opening paragraphs of almost every story I can find, adding my very favorites to the TBR. Perhaps unsurprisingly, my first impression is extremely predictive at the short story length, with five-star first impressions making my favorites list at more than three times the rate of other stories—both in 2024 and 2025. The novelettes, on the other hand, take longer to grow into themselves, and I’m frequently pleasantly surprised by entries without an eye-catching opener. 
• As always, I pay special attention to authors who hit my favorites list twice. This year, that list includes just three names: Thomas Ha, Louis Inglis Hall, and Ray Nayler. All three were on my list last year as well, and Ha (three years) and Nayler (four years) have hit my multiple favorites list multiple years in a row—they’re generating quite the track record. 
• Based on what I can find online, it appears that Louis Inglis Hall, Claire Jia-Wen, Michelle Z. Jin, Wil Magness, H.H. Pak, Nadia Radovich, Jackie Roberti, and Grace Walker are in their first two years of professional SFF publishing. It’s always exciting to read great stories by new authors, and Hall, Jia-Wen, Pak, and Radovich are particularly exciting, having hit my favorites list in both of their first two years. 
• At least two-thirds of my top-tier favorites in both the Novelette and Short Story categories were written by authors whose last initial is in the seven-letter stretch from H to N. I don’t know what this means. I didn’t name them.