I picked up the book Tales of the South Pacific while I was in Hawaii, and for a long while I didn't read it at all.

I started with the introduction by Steve Berry, and he talked about reading the book Hawaii for the first time, and why it made him a Michener fan. As I began to get into that book, I found it dragging just a little.

Then I recalled the intro and thought, "That book sounds more interesting. Maybe I'll give it a try!"

So, on a warm day in early May, I embarked on the longest book I'd ever attempted that didn't have the name Stephen King on the front. The jacket copy promised that the book would tell the lightly fictionalized history of Hawaii, and that's exactly what it does.

The audacious first chapter is all about how the islands formed geologically and then biologically. Some millions of years later, chapter two focuses on the first settlers of Hawaii, those seeking religious freedom from Bora Bora. And it's all truly fascinating.

At the beginning of almost every chapter, I would think, "I will never be able to remember this name," but then it appears so often and you get so wrapped up in all these stories that they become like old friends and enemies.

A book that includes such people as Jerusha Hale, Char Nyuk Tsin, Kamejiro Sakagawa, Keoki Kanakoa, Malama, and Wild Whip Hoxworth might seem like it would be easy to get lost in the names, but instead, you find yourself lost in the people.

In Michener's book, no one is all good or all bad (except perhaps for Abner Hale, who might be mostly bad). Not the missionaries who come to the island and impose their ways of life, against the will of many native Hawaiians. Not the gambler who is tasked with taking a kidnapped woman to the islands to work in a brothel. Not the labor leader whose heritage is Japanese but whose nationality is American, and who fought as an American in World War II.

There are shades of gray everywhere, and because Michener is such a talented storyteller, I was drawn into all of those shades. But it's not just about the people.

And if you think Hawaii is only about mapping the course of family histories from the 1700s through the mid-20th century, well, that's mostly true. But it's also incredibly exciting! This book has explosions, human sacrifice, a leper colony, fireworks, sex work, tsunamis! It's truly amazing.

I had no idea when I started this year of reading that my two big discoveries were going to be Ann Patchett and James A. Michener. But that's the beauty of reading. Constant discovery, constant enjoyment.

It took me an eternity to finish reading this 1,300-page book! I was completely exhausted by the end.

However, it was an incredibly interesting history of Hawaii, presented from the perspective of the first settlers from Polynesia.

After that, it traced the arrival of the missionaries, as well as the Chinese and the Japanese.

Despite the length, it is truly worth a read! Now, I'm onto my next adventure, whether it's Poland or Centennial.

I can't wait to explore new stories and expand my knowledge.

Each book is like a door to a different world, waiting to be opened and discovered.

Who knows what amazing things I'll encounter along the way?

This is precisely the sort of historical fiction that I have a profound love for.

Evidently, I am compelled to broaden my search for "good older fiction books that have already established their worth" to incorporate those published in 1959.

Rather than fixating on new release lists, what I truly desire is a compilation of more books similar to this one.

The epic magnitude of the novel is truly remarkable. I have a great affection for the concept of basing a novel around a specific geographical location, where the setting itself becomes the essence of the story.

Ultimately, the author firmly roots the book within several families and storylines, thereby enriching and saturating the narrative around the historical facts.

However, although the characters render the story palpable, it is never truly centered around any one particular individual.

It is a collection of archetypes with distinct faces, some endearing and others not so much, that converge to form a harmonious chorus of voices.

And while this approach might not always resonate with me, in this instance, I adored it.