It’s a question books editors dread: “Can you recommend a good book for me?”

It’s much harder to do than it sounds.

The relationship of reader to book is a highly personal one, and the books that entertained me might puzzle or offend or bore the daylights out of you. Still, as the year draws to a close, it seems fitting to note the books I found most memorable – and why.

Many, it turns out, had a common theme I normally don’t consider enjoyable.

That would be death.

Death as explored in memoirs, death in fiction and in fantasy, death in reality, death barely avoided, death looming, death transcended through memory and courage and love.

The various ways talented writers approached this profound subject made for fascinating reading, and it was often not as grim as one might expect.

And happily, there were some fine novels about love as well.

Here is a look at the books I’ll remember most from 2006.

Three memoirs made a strong impression.

¢ “Girls of Tender Age,” by Mary-Ann Tirone Smith, braided three strands into one powerful whole: a nostalgic look at Hartford, Conn., in the 1950s, a wry-but-tender account of a family coping with autism long before the condition even had a name, and a chilling true-crime account of the murder of a little girl – and the way the community forced her schoolmates to repress their natural curiosity and grief. This book put Hartford – a long-gone Hartford – on today’s literary map.

¢ “The Afterlife: A Memoir,” by Donald Antrim, is an elegy to the author’s beautiful, artistic and sadly mad mother, who demanded love even as she alienated her loved ones and drank and smoked herself into the grave. Antrim’s anguished yet exquisite writing, which is not devoid of humor, is all the more powerful for what it reveals about the author himself.

¢ “A Three Dog Life,” by Abigail Thomas, is about another kind of death – that of a personality, not a person. When her husband is permanently brain-damaged in a traffic accident, Thomas must learn a new way to relate to him and to re-cast their love. The calm, rueful and wise way she describes their altered life is never maudlin, and her spare writing style makes this true account all the more heartbreaking.

Several novelists and short story writers also made death their subject, and they personalized it in fascinating ways.

¢ “The Book Thief,” by Markus Zusak, is set in Germany as World War II begins its horrific onslaught. Narrated by Death himself – a sarcastic yet oddly tender being who sadly marvels at what humans are capable of – the story follows an orphaned girl who learns, at terrible cost, vital lessons about love, heroism and sacrifice. Often funny, often wrenching, this novel has a unique perspective and an immense impact.

¢ “A Dirty Job,” by Christopher Moore, makes you laugh at death, when you aren’t shivering at its terrifying incarnations, such as The Morrigan – three immortal harpies in the shapes of giant malevolent ravens. Whimsical to the max and laugh-out-loud goofy, this fantasy is set in San Francisco and peopled by piquant characters – a young widower who reluctantly becomes a collector of souls, his wacky friends and an artist who dabbles in reincarnation and makes costumes for reanimated road kill. Don’t ask. Grounded in Buddhist beliefs and ancient myths and hilarious in its jibes at pop culture, it’s a delightful romp in the fields of the surreal.

¢ No mention of the surreal in 2006 would be complete without a wink and a nod to the incomparable George Saunders, whose “In Persuasion Nation” story collection explores an alternative universe where advertising lingo, public relations spin and the worship of commerce combine into a semi-fascist religion that’s both hysterical and frightening. While not as consistently marvelous as his “Pastoralia,” this book contains some gems. It’s more evidence that Saunders possesses a voice and imagination unlike any other author’s today.

Two other masters of fantasy weighed in this year.

¢ After scaring us with the mobile-phone-toting zombies of “Cell” in January, Stephen King returned in October with “Lisey’s Story,” a novel about undying love, the power of the imagination, the magic of words, the horror of child abuse and the coming of age of a middle-aged widow. By turns terrifying and tender, this is a story by a mature writer and consummate story teller.

¢ Fantasy writer par excellence Ray Bradbury also deals with death in the long-awaited, long-delayed sequel to “Dandelion Wine.” In “Farewell Summer,” the boys are back in Green Town, Ill., and they’re resisting the process of growing up, even as the town’s elderly curmudgeons are resisting the inevitability of death. How they battle and then call a truce is told with Bradbury’s gossamer lyricism.

¢ Another book that brilliantly inhabits the world of a teenage boy is “Black Swan Green” by David Mitchell. Set in England during the Margaret Thatcher years, it’s funny, poignant and real, as its young hero, beset with a wicked stammer and the angst of the adolescent, struggles toward manhood. The voice Mitchell creates for young Jason Taylor is spot-on and while he might stammer, the story flows like quicksilver.

And now, a word or two about love.

¢ A sweet – well, bittersweet – love story can be found in “Alternatives to Sex” by Stephen McCauley, the Cambridge, Mass.-based author who knows his way around a comedy of manners. His protagonist is a gay man who sells real estate and adores housekeeping – he has never met a vacuum cleaner he didn’t love, but meets quite a few guys he shouldn’t love. He finds his way to a genuine connection in this deft tale set in post-Sept. 11 Boston.

¢ Two top-notch writers, Steve Almond and Julianna Baggott, brought new zest to an old genre in “Which Brings Me to You,” a love story in letters. Two misfits looking for love in all the right and wrong places, they undertake something really dangerous – exposing themselves through honest accounts of where they’ve gone wrong before, told in a crossfire of letters full of verve and tears and erotic oomph. By the time the novel ends, you are rooting for them to couple up permanently. Do they? Read this book and see for yourself.