For those of you who read my Top 5 Reads of 2024, you’ll know that I gave a glowing review and crowned it my top read of the year, saying, “nothing else has come close.” That was absolutely true for my 2024 reads—but not for my entire reading history.

Meet Ship of Theseus—the book I can confidently call my favorite of all time.

The chronicle of two readers finding each other, and their deadly struggle with forces beyond their understanding — all within the margins of a book conceived by Star Wars: The Force Awakens director J.J. Abrams and written by award-winning novelist Doug Dorst.

The book: Ship of Theseus, the final novel by a prolific but enigmatic writer named V.M. Straka, in which a man with no past is shanghaied onto a strange ship with a monstrous crew and launched onto a disorienting and perilous journey.

The writer: Straka, the incendiary and secretive subject of one of the world’s greatest mysteries, a revolutionary about whom the world knows nothing apart from the words he wrote and the rumors that swirl around him.

The readers: Jennifer and Eric, a college senior and a disgraced grad student, both facing crucial decisions about who they are, who they might become, and how much they’re willing to trust another person with their passions, hurts, and fears.

S. contains 22 inserts and will be delivered in a sealed slipcase.

Let that sink in: 22 inserts. Have you ever heard of a book that includes 22 inserts? (But seriously if you have, please let me know in the comments). When I tell you this book is a journey and a puzzle, I mean it. I don’t even remember how I discovered this book, but I’m so glad it found its way into my life.

The first time I read it, I agonized over how best to approach it—and there’s no shortage of opinions on this topic. The two main options are:

1. Read the core novel by itself first, ignoring the margin notes and inserts, and then return to explore them alongside the novel. (Essentially reading it twice.)
2. Try to tackle the novel, inserts, and margin notes all in one go.

I chose the first option, and while I’ll never know if it was the “right” choice, I’d love nothing more than to experience that first read again. There’s something magical about opening the book for the first time, seeing those inserts spilling out of the pages (don’t let them fall out—they correspond to specific pages!), and reading the margin notes, which feel like secrets you’ve stumbled upon by accident.

Taking the first approach meant I had to work really hard not to get distracted by the inserts and notes, though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t sneak a few peeks! Once I had a solid grasp of the core novel, it was easier (and honestly, more enjoyable) to dive into Jennifer and Eric’s story as they compare notes and unravel the mysteries surrounding Straka and his work.

Now for my big confession: It’s been years since I cracked this book open. I know I’m long overdue for a reread, but finding the right time has been a challenge. Maybe 2025 is the year I dive back into this puzzle.

What do you think—will you explore Ship of Theseus with me in 2025?