The Penultimate Pile

Y’all, it is DECEMBER FIRST. Crazy, right? I was going to write about the end of the calendar year and the beginning of Advent and highlight a few titles I read, but then I remembered that I also went to the Texas Book Festival and maybe should write about that. Then I realized that I had read ten books this month, which is a nice round number, and that I hadn’t really done a straight-up list for any of my posts yet this year. (which is surprising, given that that’s what I expected all of them to be when I started this project). So I give you: The Penultimate Pile.

1. Bad Feminist by Roxane Gay. I listened to this on audio, and really enjoyed parts of it. It’s a nice conglomeration of essays on a variety of topics, from pink to scrabble to the Hunger Games franchise – and of course, feminism. I found her overly critical and negative at times, which made the book feel more like a rant in places. But I’m glad I’ve read it, as it’s very popular and I like to be informed.
2. In the Country We Love by Diane Guerrero. As soon as I heard Diane Guerrero would be coming to the Texas Book Festival I knew I had to read her book! She tells her story of growing up as an American citizen with two undocumented Colombian parents who are eventually deported one day while she is at school. Ignored by the government and living with friends until she graduates from high school, Diane tells her story of overcoming personal, mental and familial struggles to become the television star and activist she is today.
3. Sex and the City by Candace Bushnell. I watched the first season of the show because it’s a cultural icon I knew little about. Found out it was a book and obviously had to check it out. I’m not a quitter so I finished it…but that may be the most positive thing I have to say about it.
4. Crazy Busy by Kevin DeYoung. WOW. It is exactly what the subtitle promises: “A (Mercifully) Short Book about a (Really) Big Problem.” I loved it. DeYoung doesn’t promise to be an exemplar of his own concepts, but he outlines the root of our addiction to busyness and how it eats away at our lives and, eventually, our souls. After all, how we spend our days is how we spend our lives.
5. Liturgy of the Ordinary. Y’all, buy this book. Read it. Take its message to heart. Tish is a wonderful, brilliant, friend who wrote about how we meet God in our everyday, mundane, repetitive lives. Did you know our day-to-day life mirrors the sacred liturgy? (you would if read the book). I’ve been waiting for this since I knew she was writing it – so for over a year. It did not disappoint. One of my top three books for this year.
6. Supper of the Lamb by Robert Farrar Capon. Food, community, faith. Need I say more? Recipes are interspersed with prayers, social commentary, practical advice on throwing a dinner party, and what it means to be human. So fantastic.
7. Girl with the Lower Back Tattoo by Amy Schumer. My love of popular memoirs once again shows itself… listened to this on audio and I have to say I did enjoy it. Definitely more colorful than I’d prefer, but I can’t say I didn’t expect it. It was more serious than I expected, but in a good way. And it certainly isn’t without funny parts. Not as funny as Bossypants or either of Mindy Kaling’s books, though.
8. Another Brooklyn by Jacqueline Woodson. This is Woodson’s most recent title, which I purchased (and had signed) at the TBF. It’s an ode to growing up, to Brooklyn, and to memory. The prose is lyrical and the relationships are beautiful. I really don’t think this woman can write anything less than phenomenal.
9. The Voyage Out by Virginia Woolf. Hey, remember back in July when I said I started The Voyage Out because I missed reading Woolf? So I finally finished it! Yay! But also, plot twist: it has a totally tragic ending. (sorry, minor spoilers there). I really, really, loved this one. It’s definitely not as finessed as her later works, and the narrative is more straightforward – which is nice – but still, Woolf’s prose is beautiful and her characters complex. I definitely identified with Rachel, the protagonist, and loved following her (slowly!) throughout the course of the book.
10. Grantchester Mysteries by James Runcie. Embarrassing truth: Jojo sent me this book in June (May?) and I just now read it this month… and I haven’t seen the show (yet?). This tome of six brief episodic country mysteries was fun, light, enjoyable and cozy. This priest/amateur sleuth is perfect to the point of being ridiculous on many occasions, but overall these stories are so sweet, even if they are a bit predictable. Curl up with it on these dark winter nights – it’s fun!

So there you have it. How many books will I read in December? Will I run out of space in my notebook-turned-book-log? Only time will tell…

The Weight of Beauty

I’m not much of a jewelry person, but sometimes, I wear a ring – my Lady Crusaders 2014 Conference Championship ring. It’s bright. It’s shiny. It’s obnoxiously big. It even has my name on it. It’s a big, bright, shiny, personal reminder that two years ago, all of the pre-season hard work, in-season sacrifice, and post-season grit was worth it when we clinched our second conference title in three seasons. I love it. I’m honored to wear it. It brings me joy.

it’s also a little heavy.

I feel it when I write. I feel it when I type. I feel it when I let both hands drop down by my sides and my right hands seems closer to the ground than my left.

it’s also a little loose.

It slides around my finger when I wash my hands. It slips and pinches my skin when I pick something up or shake someone’s hand. Sometimes I worry it’s going to fall off.

I wear it anyway. I wear it because it’s beautiful. I wear it because it exemplifies the beauty comes from hard work and sacrifice after not just a game, a week, or a season, but years of dedication and practice. I wear it to remind me of my privilege in success – privilege afforded by the seniors who required more of me my first season, by the women on the inaugural team in 1994, by the women who fought for Title IX legislation. I wear it because the groundwork for “my” success was laid long before I got there, by many more than just me.

I’m not going to give all of that up because it’s a little heavy. That weight is the weight of history – of a genealogy of hardworking women and battles won.

I’m not going to give all of that up because it’s a little loose. That sliding, slipping, and pinching is the uneasiness of growth – of finding footing at new heights and still reaching for more.

Today is a hard day. Today is a day that has ridden in on waves of hate, fear, and ugliness.

Politics aren’t easy. Voting isn’t easy. Loving our neighbor isn’t easy. Doing justly, loving mercy, and walking humbly is. not. easy.

We have to choose these things. We have to choose them when they’re heavy or confusing or making us uncomfortable. We have to choose them because if we don’t, we lose the beauty, the honor and the joy that comes from the history, the sacrifice, and the privilege.

Democracy can feel heavy. Democracy can be slippery and pinch our skin. Love, compassion, and empathy can feel heavy. Love, compassion, and empathy can be slippery and pinch our skin (or sometimes slap us in the face). But we don’t take on this weight, this pain, this risk for us. We do it for those who couldn’t, and can’t. We wear this risky weight for the naked.

Or at least, we should. Oftentimes, we are reminded that we don’t. We take our big, shiny, personalized prize and claim it only as such. We take pride in ourselves and ignore the weight that comes with it. Our success is seen through the lens of me, instead of the lens of love of Christ and neighbor, and we ignore the progress that has been made on behalf of women, minorities, immigrants, the poor, the friendless, and the needy. We elect a leader who flaunts his transgressions, denigrates women, ridicules the outcasts, demonizes the oppressed, and rides his own ego all the way to the top.

Today is a hard day. But it is not a day devoid of choice. We must choose the weight of love, compassion and empathy. We must choose the risk of being a voice for the voiceless. We must choose the uneasy footing of privilege, and offering others a hand up.

We must choose hope, that we will see the beauty born out of self-sacrifice overcoming the ugliness born out of self-preservation.

Let us bear the weight of doing good, regardless of uncertainty, risk, or pain.

Let us start by loving our neighbor.

  

October

I have a reading list. Multiple, actually. They range in length from about five books to about 25, and can be found on my phone, my white board, any of my many notebooks, and on random post-its and scraps of paper in the bottom of any number of bags. It’s not the most organized system. It’s also always in flux. Titles move up and down on the list in order of how urgently I feel they need to be read, or based on what I’m in the mood for. Some remain halfway on the list, because I started them and am leaving them, unfinished, beside my bed or on my desk or in my backpack, indefinitely, because I do want to finish them – just not yet. Some books get taken off when I get 100 pages in and realize I hate it (see ya, Love in the Time of Cholera); others get added on recommendation from a friend (hello, Hillbilly Elegy). Library books get priority, especially if I know I won’t be able to renew them. Books I’ve borrowed get bumped up to the top, because I don’t like it when people borrow my books and don’t return them in a timely manner. But usually, the list (the current one, anyway) gets shorter.

But sometimes the whole thing just gets tossed to the wind.

In the month of October, I did not read a single book from any of my reading lists. I happened upon Reading Picture Books with Children when perusing the New Books shelves at the public library one day. I decided to check out When Women Were Birds after shelving it at work. I got Hunger Makes Me a Modern Girl after the library website recommended it to me based on prior checkouts. And I ended up reading The Haunting of Hill House because that’s the book for book club this month, and sometimes I’m a good member and read the title of the month. (Although sometimes I am not).

I am not one who likes changes of plans or spontaneity. I don’t like being distracted from accomplishing my goals. Reading all of these books means I have books due at the library and books borrowed from a friend and poor The Voyage Out still sitting at 57% on my e-reader. But I can’t say I’m upset. Reading Picture Books with Children is a lovely resource I am overjoyed to have discovered. When Women Were Birds made me think. Hunger Makes Me a Modern Girl showed me a pre-Portlandia Carrie Brownstein I had never realized. And I realized that I might actually like horror/thriller stories after reading Shirley Jackson’s Haunting of Hill House – and given that her “The Lottery” pretty much scarred me for life, this is a happy surprise.

So, sometimes happenstance reading works out. But you can count on me adding these titles to a list just to cross them off and feel like I accomplished something.

Just a Tiny Beautiful Blog

Last night I felt really organized. I had made a list of everything I needed to get done this weekend, assigned different tasks and assignments to each day of the weekend, and made a plan to get out of the house and actually work. I even cooked and prepared food ahead of time so I could take my lunch and dinner with me downtown. I felt like hot stuff with my backpack of everything I needed for the day as I got on the bus to come to the library.

Then I got here. I realized that it’s the Grant application due today, not the Scholarship, so instead of writing an essay, I’m supposed to be making a video of myself, and I haven’t showered since yesterday morning. I realized that I planned to blog about the books I read in September, but my book log is at home. I realized that the research article I planned to read and write about was actually a literature review masquerading as research. The best laid plans, I tell you…

So I was frustrated. Could I still get work done with the materials I have? Absolutely. Could I find another article? Of course (and I did – it took about ten minutes). But something in my head was really mad; rather than accepting that everyone makes mistakes and confuses deadlines, it built on my two other forgotten deadlines in the past week and raged against me. This is a hot mess, it said, you’re better than this.

Which, in a certain sense, is true. I think people should always be working to better themselves, and that not missing deadlines is kind of important for succeeding at adulting.

But mostly, I think it’s not. Who am I to think I’m above making mistakes? Who am I to think that I’m better than someone else just because I keep a calendar?

This month I worked my last two weeks as a nanny. I can’t tell you how many times I faced this same issue in the past year with those kids. When I was vacuuming sequins out of the dryer, or sorting out six different sets of puzzle pieces from each other, or taping together yet another box, or especially the time I was on my hands and knees under the kitchen table trying to clean up the bowl of rice krispies that had spilled, with their milk, onto the carpet, and since dried. So as I am, in these situations and many more, on the floor, I would sigh and think, I am better than this. Somehow, in my white, privileged, middle-class, home, private, and post-bac educated mind, I got the idea that I’m too good to ever be on my knees on the floor. Then I would get to my wonderful, liturgical, church where we kneel together in confession every Sunday and I would remember the last time I was so close to the ground and try to repent of all those entitled thoughts and feelings.

This month, I listened to Cheryl Strayed’s book Tiny Beautiful Things, in which she has compiled a number of her “Dear Sugar” advice columns from The Rumpus. One response to an admittedly well-educated, woman writer who struggles with jealousy:

A large part of your jealousy probably rises out of your outsized sense of entitlement. Privilege has a way of fucking with our heads the same way a lack of it does. There are a lot of people who’d never dream they could be a writer, let alone land, at the age of 31, a six figure book deal. You are not one of them. And you are not one of them because you’ve been given a tremendous amount of things that you did not earn or deserve, but rather that you received for the sole reason that you happen to be born into a family who had the money and wherewithal to fund your education at two colleges to which you feel compelled to attach the word “prestigious.”

Y’all, I have an outsized sense of entitlement. I have been given a tremendous amount of things I did not earn or deserve, including a nearly-free education at one of the Top Ten Regional Colleges of the South, and a free one at one of the Top Ten Universities in my field of graduate study.

These things have led me to believe that I am strong, smart, capable and full of potential.

But they have also led me to believe that I am above forgetfulness, or not showering, or peeling glue-like rice cereal out of the carpet.

This month I also read Wearing God, by Lauren F. Winner. Her meditations on different images for God also challenged me – particularly the idea of God as a woman in labor:

If our picture of strength is a laboring woman, then strength is not about refusing to cry or denying pain. Strength is not about being in charge, or being independent, or being dignified. If our picture of strength is a laboring woman, then strength entails enduring, receiving help and support, being open to pain and risk. If our picture of strength is a laboring woman, strength entails entrusting yourself (to medicine, or to the wisdom of your own body, or to the guidance of someone who is there in the room with you). Strength entails giving yourself over to the possibility of death.

This is just one example. God demonstrates the strength of vulnerability over and over and over again. His very death, so often sterilized and cloaked in euphemism for our comfort, is the greatest, most powerful picture of humility, vulnerability and love. Christ, the one actually entitled to glory, laud and honor, suffered for the sake of my sorry, entitled self. And this is the image that sticks with me – Christ showed his strength in giving himself over to death, and I can’t give myself over to making some scheduling mistakes?

And while I certainly don’t plan on birthing a child anytime soon, can’t I give up my idea of being strong and dignified, above pain, weakness, struggle, or error? Can’t I give myself up to the small opportunities to die to pride and entitlement? Can’t I sit still for just a moment and appreciate the things I have, that I did not earn and most certainly do not deserve? The big things are hard: my family, community and education. So I’m starting small – with the everyday, the ordinary, the simple, wonderful pieces that piece together my ordinary, extraordinary life. I’m starting with the Tiny Beautiful Things. 

August Books

Y’all, I read three books this month. Three. That’s less than one a week. Part of it is because of how much I’ve been working. Part of it is because of school starting and now I’m reading homework. Part of it is because I decided to watch Season 2 of ‘Jane the Virgin.’ But, given that I read one of my three measly books in about two days, my reading-per-day has really plummeted. For me, that’s more disappointing than the number. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had the conversation of “just read five minutes a day.” People tell you they “don’t have time to read” or they’re “not a reader” and you say, “yes you do” and “you just haven’t read the right book yet!” So you recommend a really good book and tell them read for five minutes (or even only two!) right before they fall asleep at night and promise they’ll make progress. Seriously! I read Anna Karenina in five minutes a day; it works.

But this month I have not been reading five minutes a day – not of a book. I’m reading, sure: emails, blogs, my newsfeed, neighborhood newsletters, the like. But I didn’t finish The Voyage Out this month as planned because I quit reading a few pages each night before I fell asleep. So I’d like to change that, coming up. Starting week after next, I’ll be working fewer hours, closer to home. I’ll be taking the bus more, so I can capitalize on my commuting time. But, I’ll also have homework, and it won’t be reading novels. So I don’t expect my numbers to be anywhere close to what they were in the Spring. But, I do know I’ll be able to find pockets of time: 5, 10 or 20 minutes, to read a book.

The books I did read, though, I liked quite a bit!

I heard about Portia de Rossi’s memoir, Unbearable Lightness, a few months ago and, as I’m a fan of memoirs and “Arrested Development,” it piqued my interest. I enjoyed it, and it’s a pretty quick read. A really fascinating look at the obsessive nature of eating disorders and the havoc they wreak.

In a weird juxtaposition, I followed Portia’s book with Eat With Joy by Rachel Marie Stone – a cohesive Christian look at sustainable, ethical, communal eating. As I love food and fellowship, and books about food and fellowship, this was an easy one to like. Because I’ve already read quite a bit on the subject, it wasn’t really new information, but I appreciated it – especially the prayers at the end of each chapter.

But, by far my favorite book this month was A Woman’s Place by Katelyn Beaty. I loved it. I loved every single part of it. It's the first book in my reading log to get a 5/5. I couldn’t read it fast enough. I borrowed it from a friend and had already decided to buy my own copy by the end of the first page. This book combined so many of my favorite things in conversation: women, work, vocation, the Church, community, inspiring success stories. I felt so affirmed in all of my life choices while reading this book. I read Lean In last year, and, in my opinion, A Woman’s Place complements Sandberg’s work so well – providing the why behind the how in women’s work. Plus, I’m a super fangirl of Katelyn Beaty and all of her work and writing for Christianity Today, which just made the whole experience even better. Seriously, y’all: go read this book (and it is not just for women!). I just got my hardback copy, so I’ll be re-reading it again soon. 

Now, I'm going to read five minutes before I go to bed...

June/July Update

Hey, remember when I said, “I’ll be back in June?” My blissful, full of end-of-school-May me was apparently really confident about that too, as one would gather from the accompanying smiley face. And then I completely forgot that June was ending until it was over and decided I would just combine the months... and now here it is on July 31^st at 9p and I just thought to myself, “SHOOT I HAVE TO BLOG RIGHT NOW.” So here I am. I have very little to report, except that my shiny end-of-school-May self also thought she was going to have plenty of time to read all the books and then this smart cookie decided that doing summer school would be boring and she should just get two part time jobs instead. Oh, and then I moved.

Since June 1^st, I have read three books: Things Fall Apart, The Violent Bear It Away and Don’t Worry, It Gets Worse. These were all depressing. The first two in a good, thought-provoking way, and the last in a this-was-supposed-to-be-relatable-but-you-make-terrible-life-choices type of way.

I have also listened to four audiobooks: Still Alice, Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?, Carol and Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. Still Alice was lovely (and depressing – anyone else notice a theme??). Mindy Kaling’s was hilarious, as expected. The last two were re-reads – can you call it that if you read it the first time and listened to it the second? It’s definitely quite a different experience, I think. As in, I noticed more in Carol this time, since I read really fast and the audiobook forces me to go slower. And, even though I’ve seen all the HP movies, it was still surprising to hear all of the narration and dialogue in British accents…

Part of me is a little disappointed in my summer progress. I gave up on reading more than 100 pages in Love in the Time of Cholera, and haven’t even tried to listen to an audiobook in at least a week. But mostly I’m trying to remember process over progress, and to enjoy the moments I do snatch away to get a few pages in. And I’m happy to have spent time doing other things, like catching up on all of the back issue of Christianity Today that I didn’t read all spring because I was reading YA, and doing crossword puzzles for the first time in a year.

And, I do think I am making slow but steady headway in Thomas Merton’s Seven Storey Mountain, which has been on my list for a few years now, and The Voyage Out, which I downloaded on my phone because I miss reading Woolf. The good news is that I am enjoying both of these works quite a bit, just as I am enjoying the extra work I picked up.

And there’s still some summer left – not enough to re-read all of Harry Potter (seriously, did I think I was miracle woman?) – but I may be able to knock out a few more titles on my list.

We shall see. 

At first I thought my reading for May was terrible. This is an actual conversation I had two days ago.

Me: “Ohmygosh, I have barely read any books this month. I have literally barely been reading at all.”

Sister: “Really?”

Me: *flips through book log* “Okay I have actually read more than 2 ½ books a week this month.”

So maybe it’s not so bad. I wish I could say I read fewer books this month because they were in some way more difficult or challenging or lengthy than the YA I’ve been gulping down for the last three months, but they really haven’t. All I can say is that school is out and I have watched more than my fair share of Netflix, and also spent much more time with friends throughout the month of May than I have in a very long time. I may have socialized more in May than I did January-April. I don’t regret it a single bit, but my little introverted self is going to need some time to recover…

It’s honestly really hard to choose a Top Pick for this month – I’m keeping track of all the books I read this year in a notebook, with author, title, brief summary and my initial thoughts, complete with a rating from one to five. I realized this month that this system is definitely flawed, as my thoughts immediately after finishing a book greatly impact the rating, and then I think about the book for awhile, go back and say “What? Only a 3? But it’s so good!” or “I gave that a 3.5? It certainly wasn’t as good as” … you get the picture.

For instance, my first thought for Top Pick was Becoming Maria; Sonia Manzano’s memoir of her childhood in the Bronx, leading up to her audition for the life-changing role of Maria on Sesame Street. It has made me think so much, about poverty, education, opportunity, racism, reading, domestic violence, family dynamics, and more. It’s a hard book to read. The more time I have to reflect on it, the more crushing her childhood reality becomes. Look back at the rating – 3.5, even with the simple-but-popular thriller The Girl on the Train, and a full half-point behind Mindy Kaling’s Why Not Me? Which I presumably gave a better score because I thought it was really funny. But honestly, I’d recommend all three of the books listed above, depending on the reader and what genre (s)he likes. I also feel compelled to mention Bird by Bird, by Anne Lamott – which I got from the library but now plan to purchase – and If You Come Softly, which may be the last Woodson title I read for awhile. And there you have it – practically half of the 11 books I read this month…which isn’t actually that much fewer than some other months, and is two more than in January!

I’d like to say that this has inspired me to come up with a more well-rounded rating system, with a more accurate algorithm for deciding (and remembering) how good a book is, but it hasn’t.

I mean, I’m sure you’ll find this shocking, but: reading isn’t a numbers game. No matter how many books I read, or how good I thought they were, there will always be more books that I want to read, and people who disagree with me on quality. It keeps things interesting, and keeps me reading. I’ll be back in June. :)

Y’all, April is the cruelest month. Eliot said it, not me, so don’t shoot the messenger. The month started out super awesome, with me traveling to USM for the Kaigler Children’s Book Festival, but real talk: I kind of don’t know what I’m doing at this point in the semester/year. According to my log, I read 16 books this month, but since I quit reading on April 25, that means I read 4-point-something books a week, and since one of those weeks I was in Mississippi, I wasn’t really reading. And I’m not magic. But they’re written down for April so I’m going with it. Mostly, I’m just glad to be done reading for my YA book log! It is officially turned in and finished and I am happy to report that I survived the reading of 46 Young Adult novels.

Top Pick(s): Well, this month I went kind of Jacqueline Woodson crazy. She was the Southern Miss Medallion winner, and since I loved Brown Girl Dreaming so much (Feb? March?), I felt the need to prepare to be a festival ambassador by reading as many of her other books as possible. So: Behind You; Locomotion; Peace, Locomotion; Feathers; After Tupac and D Foster; and Beneath a Meth Moon. They are all 100% worth your time. If I had to choose just one though, it would be Feathers. Absolute Fave.

Y’all I love every single word this woman says and writes.

Despite Jacqueline's limited time frame for being at the festival, we were still able to get a picture!

Surprising Books: I was pleasantly surprised by Holly Gold Sloan’s Counting by 7s, and surprisingly disappointed by Neil Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book. I felt like a sham librarian not having read any Gaiman, and while it was good, I didn’t think it lived up to the hype.

I did try to diversify my reading in terms of genre this month, hitting up some poetry (Enchanted Air), mystery/suspense (The Boy in the Burning House), and even some short stories (Athletic Shorts). I also read an absolutely terrible book called I Know What You Did Last Summer, which upset The Chocolate War as worst book I have read this year. If you want a poorly updated story about generic, WASP Americana with flat characters, pointless conversations, a predictable plot and characterizations of women based solely on their looks, then this book is for you! For anyone who swears at audiobooks that try to build suspense by having a character locked in a bathroom, unable do anything because she’s surrounded only by “flimsy feminine products,” (because men’s shampoo is definitely sturdier than women’s…), then this book may hinder your ability to drive in traffic.

I will say that my opinion has swayed slightly from absolute hatred to general dislike but tolerance of books for Young Adults, though I have realized that I am a general fan of middle-grade fiction, with an intense drop-off for older YA lit. Most of the books I enjoyed were geared towards slightly younger audiences. And I am definitely ready to dive back into my personal reading list – which is already about 15-20 books long for summer! We’ll see how much progress I make next month…

March Madness, Book Edition

So while everyone else is watching their brackets, I’m still reading away!

I am happy to have even more books this month than either of the previous, but am not sure it really counts, since March is longer than February and I actually didn’t finish one of the books I put in my log, so maybe March and February are tied at 15 each. I read even more graphic novels this month, and ventured slightly more into nonfiction as well! Hopefully more nonfiction is to come, as I’ve chosen to focus on Biographies for my Young Adult Lit class’s Special Project.

So, Top Pick: Probably The Invention of Hugo Cabret. Hugo is actually just absolutely lovely and everyone should read it. It combines books and clocks and movies in a way quite unexpected and beautiful. It’s a weird crossover between novel and graphic novel, which makes it almost like a silent movie (which, no spoilers, is really cool given the content). It’s a quick read, and I definitely stayed up late two nights after work to knock it out! One of these days I will get around to watching the movie as well…

Worthwhile reads: Amelia Lost and Let Me Play: The Story of Title IX. These are both nonfiction titles for middle grades that I really enjoyed. Amelia Earhart is downright inspiring (if bullheaded and – at times – a bit foolish) and this book does a good job of highlighting her pioneering bravery without idolizing her. Let Me Play resonated with me personally, as both a high school and collegiate athlete, and an advocate for women’s education. Most people don’t realize how recent of a development Title IX is, or even what it is. I learned a great deal about the amount of effort and fighting it took by the women in Congress to even get this amendment to the Equal Rights Amendment considered in the 1970’s, and the amount of fighting they’ve had to do to keep it there! So, for all the women doctors, lawyers, and athletes you see: thank Title IX. The women of today are able to do so much more than those even one or two generations before us.

Other memorable books this month: The Price of Salt, which I read after seeing CAROL – I’m still comparing them, so if you have thoughts, please send them my way! I hit up some more graphic novels: Long Walk to Valhalla, which I quite enjoyed, Stitches (thanks April, for the suggestion!), and Persepolis, a graphic memoir of the Islamic Revolution in Iran. I struggled to get through fantasy title Daughter of Smoke and Bone, and found both Bone Gap and Going Bovine a little wacky for my taste. But, I am happy to have read 32 of the necessary 50 for one of my classes, and am already making a list for summer, when I’m back to free choice!

New Year, New Books: Talking Titles and Top Picks (with Tana!)

Okay, so for Christmas my mom got me this book So Many Books, So Little Time: A Year of Passionate Reading, in which the author Sara Nelson chronicles her life and choice of books for one year, with notable intersections. I’ve been wanting to keep track of the all the books I read for awhile now, and, as I also got a notebook, 2016 seemed the perfect opportunity. The original plan was to do a monthly update of my books, with highs and lows and recommendations, but then I looked up one day and it was February 10 so: oops.

Anyway, since January 1^st, I have read 24 books: 9 in January, 15 in February.*

Some books I loved. Most I thought were fine; I only really hated one. They crossed genres from memoir to historical fiction to poetry to graphic novel and a few things in between. Please, read on if you care to know what happened to strike my fancy. And if they sound interesting, head over to your nearby bookstore or local library and read them for yourself!

Top Picks, January: Room by Emma Donoghue and Yes,Please by Amy Poehler. I got Room after seeing the movie and WOW. Both were quite mind-blowing. Having Jack, the 5 year old son, narrate is quite striking. And, well, Amy is hilarious and as such so is her book. Jojo got it for me for Christmas and it has the highest star count in my notebook so far. I actually had to put the book down so that I could stop laughing and catch my breath before continuing. I cried actual tears of laughter. But it also poignant and true and heartfelt and I stayed up until 4 am reading it because I couldn’t put it down.

Top Picks, February: Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson and Brown Girl Dreaming by Jacqueline Woodson. Speak is a lovely YA novel (and that is a major compliment, coming from me) about a freshman named Melinda who has something very important to say but can’t say it. I read it in a day and would recommend it to anyone, especially women, especially in middle and high school. I listened to Brown Girl Dreaming on audio and having Jacqueline Woodson read her own verse, her own story to me was just one of the most moving experiences. It made me hungry for cornbread, for love, for justice and for dreams come true.

Biggest Surprise? Annie on my Mind. I had to read it for class and I think it’s only the second or third book I’ve read with an LGBTQ character (or in this case, characters) as the protagonist(s). It’s a lovely portrayal of character and the transition and confusion of Senior year.

I also feel obliged to mention titles like Modern Romance by Aziz Ansari, which I enjoyed quite and bit and promptly followed by watching his Netflix original series Master of None. Or Fantastic Mr. Fox and The Magic Finger by Roald Dahl, which I never read as a child, but read at work with the kids. I read my first-ever graphic novels and did not hate them, so that is something, I suppose. Also if any of you have thoughts on Fun Home, please send them my way.

That’s all this opinionated reader has to say for now! If you’d like a complete list of books thus far, or more detailed thoughts on a particular title, please let me know! Talking about books is actually my favorite thing to do. :)

*Please note: I am not a reading machine. I have a half-hour commute each way and listened to many on audio. I’m in a Young Adult Lit class this semester which requires a lot of reading, and many titles could be completed in a day, especially if I read some at work. And graphic novels are super-duper quick.