I am and always have been a reader – and in 2016 I resolved to Read More. I wanted to continue that through 2017, so I will update you quarterly on my progress through my reading list. Between December and now, here’s where I am:
- Selfish, Shallow & Self-Absorbed – ed. Meghan Daum (a book of short essays about being child-free)
- The Underground Railroad – Colson Whitehead (a brilliant, magical-realist interpretation of the Underground Railroad)
- The Light Between the Oceans – M.L. Stedman (a lighthousekeeper and his wife, after repeated miscarriages, rescue a child orphaned at sea and deal with the fallout of that choice)
- Men Explain Things to Me – Rebecca Solnit (short, feminist essays)
- Bad Feminist – Roxanne Gay (longer, feminist essays and critiques in a style and on topics that are not immediately apparent as being “feminist”)
- Runaway – Alice Munro (typical Alice Munro short stories)
- The Broken & the Whole (a rabbi talks about family tragedy and healing from grief)
- Commonwealth – Ann Pachett (a brilliant, complex story of a brilliant, complex blended & unhappy family)
- The History of Love – Nicole Krauss (a magical, intergenerational love story)
- Hillbilly Elegy – J.D. Vance (a memoir about growing up in Appalachia – and moving on)
- Why I Am Not a Feminist – Jessa Crispin (a short book about the state of modern feminist theory)
- Shrill – Lindy West (essays on love, life, fat acceptance, internet trolling, and death)
- Homegoing – Yaa Gyasi (an intergenerational novel about Ghanaian families, slavery, and differences in the toll of time)
- Black Edge – Sheelah Kohlhatkar (a story about the rise and fall of SAC Capital)
- Hallelujah Anyway – Anne Lamott (a slim volume that seems to touch on the theology of mercy and happiness)
Some General Themes: I am reading more writers of colour; I am reading more about feminism; I am reading more essays. I am trying to challenge myself and my perceptions and get out of my Reading Comfort Zone.
Book Club: I had to quit my book club. Not because I didn’t like them – I did like them, a lot! – but the books they picked were universally So Horrendous that I couldn’t continue to read what they wanted to read. I liked their company. I hated their taste in books.
What’s Next: Poetry; some hefty non-fiction; and one or two really classic novels.