Wednesday, January 31, 2018

January 2018 wrap-up

January was a good reading month with books from many genres: biography, historical fiction, children's fiction, poetry, autobiography, cooking, contemporary fiction, and mystery. Here's how it all came out. Full reviews are linked below.


3 stars

4.5 stars
 
4.5 stars

4 stars

4 stars

3 stars

2 stars
 
4 stars
 
4.5 stars
 
4 stars

2.5 stars
 
4 stars
 
average
3 stars


 
 

Monday, January 29, 2018

What I'm reading this week (1/29/18)

Last week I finished:

I'd read so much about Jane Harper's The Dry when it came out last January that I finally bought a copy myself. Then I chickened out because I just didn't want to read a book focusing on a triple murder, no matter how good. With Harper's second book due out in early February, a book I'm very intrigued by, I wanted to read her first book before the second. And I'm so glad I did. This is the first in a series featuring officer Aaron Falk. In this one he returns home to Kiwarra, Australia to attend his friend Luke's funeral. The friend, his wife, and their young son were murdered, and the murders were pinned on Luke. Luke's parents ask Falk to look into the crimes to be sure it really was Luke who committed them. A subplot is the long-ago death of Aaron and Luke's friend, which many always assumed Falk had something to do with. The reader gains information for both cases simultaneously. This is a very well done mystery. It's well-written, the characters are believable, and the plot moves briskly and keeps you guessing. This one also has a strong sense of setting, one of my favorite things to find in a book. Set in drought-stricken Australia where tempers are high and money is short, you can feel the oppression and punishment of the place. I listened to this on audio, which was very good. I might suggest reading it though, so as not to miss anything. While the murders and crime scene are described in detail, there isn't a lot of dwelling on the details afterward. Still, this is a grittier book than some may be used to. There's some brawling, and there's some scene-appropriate swearing. I highly recommend this book if you're looking for a good mystery/thriller, and now I'm really looking forward to Harper's next book, Force of Nature. My rating: 4.5 stars.

I purchased a copy of Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat for the library, and ever since paging through it when it came in, I'd wanted to read it. But it was checked out every time I looked, so I bought my own copy. The book made a rather large splash in the cookbook world when it came out, and I can see why. It really is a comprehensive look at the four elements of good cooking: salt, fat, acid, and heat. These, the author argues, are the four ways you can create, change, or bring out the flavor of food. She gives ample attention to each element, then includes 200 pages of recipes. (The book is well over 400 pages.) I was most interested to learn about acid, and I was not disappointed. Most of the recipes aren't really things I'd make myself, but there are a number of recipes for salad dressings that I'm glad to have. Also, there are charming illustrations throughout and whole-page pullout charts of flavor profiles and other things that are fascinating. I had a fun time reading through this. The author worked with Alice Waters at Chez Panisse, so she knows her stuff, and she's conversational and passionate throughout the book. I recommend this one for folks who want to go deeper in their study of cooking and flavors. It was a real revelation reading this that I knew so much of this already just by trial-and-error cooking in the past few decades, but the book taught me why and how what I've discovered is true. I would suggest that you read this one through instead of skipping to the parts you're most interested in, though, so there is a time investment. My rating: 4 stars. 

I read so many Best of 2017 lists that included The War That Saved My Life (though it came out in 2015) that I just had to read (actually, listen to) it myself. I have to tell you, I just do not understand the fuss. At all. I was disappointed with the oversimplified, unbelievable plot, that I really didn't want to finish it. Also, there was a lot of child abuse, and I don't know how a young girl could get through the book without being a little shattered. The story is this: Ada Smith is born with a clubfoot, and because of this, her mother confines her to their one-room flat with only a window over the streets of gritty London for entertainment. The mother is verbally, emotionally, and physically abusive (and that is all she is; the author doesn't give her a single redeeming quality nor describe a single moment of her being anything but abusive). This is 1939, and Ada's little brother, Jamie, whom she raises, is her only connection to the world. When London evacuates their children to the countryside in preparation for German bombing, Ada and her brother Jamie sneak onto one of the evacuating trains. Oh, because Ada taught herself to walk on her clubfoot after crawling all her life. They're taken in by a nice woman in the country, and the children bloom. Then mum comes back to take them home and the abuse starts again. Etc. It ends ambiguously enough to set up the second book in the series, The War I Finally Won (released last fall). I just couldn't like this book. It felt like it was ticking off boxes on an inclusivity checklist. In addition to the poverty, abuse, and Ada's disability, there are hints at the kindly caretaker being a lesbian which made me squirm. This isn't something I'd encourage a young girl to read. The one redeeming quality of the book is the complexity of Ada's feelings toward her mother and the caretaker. That part of the story was well done. But overall, it was much too black and white and uncomfortable for me, and I couldn't imagine giving it to a nine-year-old. My rating: 2.5 stars.

In contrast to The War That Saved My Life, I also finished The Vanderbeekers of 141st Street, which was much more to my taste. The Vanderbeeker kids (who are bi-racial, but the races aren't identified), twins Isa and Jessie, Oliver, Hyacinth, and Laney, and their parents live on two floors of a brownstone in Harlem. Above them lives an older couple who adore the children, and above them lives the landlord, Mr. Beiderman, who has told the Vanderbeekers he will not be renewing their lease, and they have two weeks to pack up and leave. Oh, and it's Christmastime. Mr. Beiderman, whom no one has seen, and whom the children call "the Beiderman," dislikes the children and their noise. The children go into overdrive developing plots to win over the Beiderman so they can stay in their beloved home. Will they succeed? And what will they learn along the way? This book (the first in a series) reminds me of The Penderwick series. If you love the Penderwick girls, you'll like this one, too. It's a good, clean story full of humor and feelings and kid drama. I recommend it for the third and forth grade audience. My rating: 4 stars.


Last week I abandoned:


I'd been wanting to try a Wooster and Jeeves book (or anything else by P. G. Wodehouse) for a long time. Then, after reading Good Night, Mr. Wodehouse, earlier this month, I downloaded a fee copy of My Man Jeeves to my Kindle for February. And I started reading it early. I read about 15% of it before I decided I just wasn't enjoying it. I'm not giving up on Wodehouse, though--there are a LOT more titles where that came from.


What I'm reading this week:


I've started two more of my February reads early. I'm loving both My Lady Jane (definitely a reading wild card for me) and Church of the Small Things.
 

My audiobook:



This week I'll be listening to Wiley Cash's The Last Ballad.



Tuesday, January 23, 2018

Book Review Catch-up



It’s time to play catch-up with what I’ve been reading lately. I finished nine books over Christmas break, and I’ve finished four more since, and I've been so busy creating my end-of-year posts that I’ve been unable to post anything else. But I don’t want to just skip these. Since I’m so far behind, these reviews will be shorter than usual, but there’s some good stuff here that I wanted to share.
 
The first book I finished over break was The Ninth Hour by Alice McDermott. Years ago, before I stopped reading fiction altogether for a decade or more, McDermott’s Charming Billy was one of the last novels I truly loved. There must be something about McDermott’s writing that appeals to me, because The Ninth Hour is one of my favorite books of last year. I think this one is something you either “get” or you don’t, that you either love or you shrug off with a “meh” and move on. Well, I got it, and I loved it. It’s a very quiet, low action, slim plot (again, you’re either going to love that or you aren’t) about a widow and her little girl and the nuns who look out for them for several decades. There’s friendship, forbidden love, and lots of Catholic nuns (I think McDermott uses Catholicism in her books a lot). It’s ultimately about service and devotion—both to the church and to our friends and family. There’s a twist toward the end (which you’ll likely guess at along the way) that makes the book what it is. This is a superb novel, in my opinion. I’ve added several other McDermott books to my TBR after finishing it. My rating: 5 stars.

Dear Fahrenheit 451 was a wonderful little book about books. I just looked back and counted that I read eight books about books this year, and this was definitely one of my favorites. Most of the book is librarian Annie Spence’s letters to various books, mostly books she loves, books she hates, and books she’s culling from the library’s collection. It’s at times humorous and at times poignant. She talks about titles you’ve either read or heard of, but also about esoteric oddities lurking on the library shelves. The last part of the book is lists and essay-ish pieces about books. I highly recommend this one for book lovers. It’s one of my favorites—and I’ve read a lot of these books. I will caution you, though, that there is a great deal of swearing in the book, and most of it is gratuitous. If you caught Spence’s interview on the What Should I Read Next podcast, you might be surprised that the mild-mannered, quiet girl in the interview was the same girl swearing a blue streak in this book. My rating: 4.5 stars.

 
I’m a confirmed Fredrik Backman fan, but I definitely have enjoyed his novels more than his novellas. The Deal of a Lifetime is his newest work, a novella of about 65 pages, easily read in a sitting. It has a magical element, which isn’t something that ever interests me, but some folks will like the book because of it. A successful businessman who has a strained relationship with his son meets a little girl with cancer. And then a sort of supernatural plot plays out. Perhaps if this were a novel I’d have enjoyed it more; as it is, I had a lukewarm reaction to it. Some readers will find it poignant and perhaps a bit uplifting. I just didn't find it terribly original. My rating: 3 stars.
 




One of my very favorite poems is Emily Dickinson’s poem about making a prairie with bees and revery. If Bees Are Few takes its title from the last line in that short poem. This collection was published in part to benefit the Bee Lab at the University of Minnesota which is trying to save the bees. One might expect a collection like this to be filled with local and little-known poets of lesser talent, but this was a solid collection. The poems included were of good quality and by well-known poets. It wasn’t too political, hammering home global warming stats or other strident views. It was just a good, solid collection of poems about bees. I enjoyed it very much. My rating: 3.5 stars.


I love A.J. Jacobs’ work. I’ve read all of his books, and with the exception of one, they’re all high on my list of all-time favorite books. (The Know-It-All is my favorite.) Jacobs is one of the first to write “stunt” books where the author takes on a project—often strange or foolhardy adventures—and then writes a book about it. Eat, Pray, Love and Julie and Julia are two others from the genesis of this genre. Wild is another. In the past, Jacobs has read the entire Encyclopaedia Britannica, tried to follow every law in the Old Testament, and tried to become the healthiest man alive. In It’s All Relative, he aims to break the world record by throwing the largest family reunion in history with the notion that we’re all related. He talks about genealogy, explores popular genealogy sites, gives his convoluted relation to various celebrities, crashes family reunions, and throughout the book, gives updates on his own reunion planning. Oh, and Jacobs is funny, neurotic, and self-effacing, which really makes you root for him. I enjoyed the book, but it was a bit of a letdown in the end. I don’t feel like the reunion, when it finally happened, was given enough time, just a short debrief at the very end. Still, I think it was worth the price of admission, and fans of Jacobs will enjoy it, no doubt. My rating: 4 stars.


I’ve been wanting to read a Willa Cather book for some time, so last December I made My Ántonia my Kindle read. Unfortunately, I had a hard time wanting to pick it up (though I liked it when I did), so I finally finished it on audio. The audio version was quite good because the narrator had a bit of a Midwestern Scandinavian accent which fit the narration perfectly. I enjoyed the story, but it is one that is very low on action or drama. I can imagine a high school student being assigned this book and finding herself bored and uninterested. This is the last in a series, which I didn’t realize, but it did stand on its own. The writing is very straight-forward and serviceable. It’s quite simply the story of life on the prairie (specifically, Nebraska) as the west is just beginning to be settled. Ántonia is the young neighbor of the Burden family, and the story is narrated by Jim Burden, Ántonia’s friend.  I’m just unsure what the book means. Is it as simple as it seems, or is it deceptively simple? I enjoyed the book for its portrayal of the life of prairie settlers, but I feel that I missed something overall. My rating: 3.5 stars.

I love the Pioneer Woman cookbooks. Her latest, Come and Get It! is as good as all of her others. I keep waiting for her to run out of good recipes or decide she’s bored and branch out into fad food, but Ree remains consistent and true to her roots (Oklahoma cattle ranching). There are meat—and a few non-meat—recipes, yummy sides, and gorgeous, yet easy, desserts. If you like home cooking, meat-and-potatoes fare with a generous dose of pasta, veggie dishes, and a sprinkling of decidedly non-ranch fare (e.g. quinoa), this one will be a hit for you. She includes a whole section of quick dishes for busy families as well as a section of slow-cooker meals. Also, she’s as funny and charming in this cookbook as ever. I loved the photo series of ballet positions—done in her cowgirl boots, and the photos of her dogs and kids. I was very happy with this one. My rating: 5 stars.

I have long proclaimed my love of Michael Perry’s work, which I’ve been following since my college days (back then, I followed in person). His writing is genuine, self-deprecating, humorous, and very often, touching. He writes mostly about rural Wisconsin, farming, family, and writing, all things that are near and dear to me, having grown up around the same stripe of folks he describes in his books. His work is very consistent, yet never gets old-hat or annoying or saccharine. In an email sent to his readers as this book was released, he warned us that it was a little different, and he was right. I’d long felt that as entertaining as I find Perry's books, he doesn’t often go too deep or too personal, and I’d always wondered what we’d get if he did. Turns out, Montaigne in Barn Boots is what you’d get. Here, Perry explores the essays of sixteenth-century French philosopher Michel de Montaigne and how relevant they are to him today. Using Montaigne’s lines, Perry explores heretofore never explored territory and opens up about his views on politics, sex, fart jokes, marriage, and religious faith. It was all interesting, but as much as it pains me to say it, Perry just didn’t nail it. And I’m so used to him nailing it. Parts were almost painful to read because I could feel he was trying to say something, but he’s too polite to just bust out and say it. Still, I’m hoping this is the beginning of a franker Mike Perry. Maybe it just took an old philosopher to get him to open up. Fans of Mike Perry might be surprised by this one, but I don’t think they’ll be disappointed. My rating: 3.5 stars.
 
For women of my generation, there are two events for which everyone can tell you where they were when they happened: the Twin Towers falling, and Princess Diana’s death. I was on my way out to a back-to-school event at the university I was attending (and where I’ve worked ever since) when the news broke. My roommates and I were shocked and saddened. She’d just gotten out of her disastrous marriage only to have her life cut short in a high-speed car crash of all things. Of course, we didn’t know everything, and no book can tell us everything. Still, there’s much more to the story of Princess Di than her image among young women in America. And there’s more to the story of her marriage than the side story of Prince Charles and Camilla. A couple of years ago I read Sally Bedell Smith’s Elizabeth the Queen, and I loved it no end. It was so conversational and interesting and, though long, it never dragged. It also very pointedly excoriated Princess Diana. So, I knew what I was getting myself in for with her follow-up, Prince Charles, published last year. I really have very little interest in Prince Charles; philandering old Englishmen don’t interest me. much But I had so loved Smith’s book about the queen, I knew I’d read this one, too. After reading, I can say Prince Charles still holds very little interest for me. I’m still unsympathetic to his decades-long affair with Camilla. And I find his causes and interests rather dull and tedious. I think this book could have been trimmed by a third. Smith is an exhaustive writer, giving every detail year by year, but when the details are as uninteresting as those of Prince Charles’ career (or whatever you call the king-in-waiting’s work), you trim it a bit to liven things up. In short, Charles is interested in conservation, was a strong and vocal advocate for organic agriculture long before that was the trend, and he has very strong feelings about architecture, prizing classical to anything new or topping three stories. He seems, not surprisingly, out of touch, has a hotheaded angry streak, pouts like a child, and still holds childhood injustices against his parents. The prince and princess’s marriage is talked about quite a bit, though it doesn’t dominate the book, and it would seem the two were a mismatch from the start, and their years together were fraught with distrust on her part (with good reason) and indifference on his (also, likely, with good reason). Diana is painted as mentally unhealthy from the get-go, which only exacerbated their troubles. All three of the persons in that marriage (to allude to Diana’s famous assessment of her marriage) were cheating on someone. Long before the end of the book I wanted to be done with them all. It’s amazing that princes William and Harry are functioning adults at all with the dysfunction present in their various palaces during their childhoods. If you’re interested in Prince Charles, this is not a bad book, but I’m afraid you won’t find Charles all that interesting, and the bloom will be off the Princess Diana rose, too. My rating: 3 stars.  
 
I’ve read many stellar reviews of Lillian Boxfish Takes a Walk, so I decided to listen to it on audio. This is the story of Lillian Boxfish, the highest-paid woman in advertising in the 1930s for R.H. Macy, and it’s based on the life of Margaret Fishback who apparently was the highest-paid woman in advertising in the 1930s for R.H. Macy. Lillian takes a walk on New Year’s Eve 1984, recounting her life in advertising, her failed marriage, her stay at a mental institution, her son, her friends, all while encountering various New Yorkers, some kindly, some out to do her harm. This is the perfect character study. Lillian is a well-fleshed character who is of strong opinion, of sharp mind and mouth, dryly witty, and true to herself without being unwilling to experience new things. This is a truly remarkable book. My one regret is listening to it instead of reading it. With this one, if you miss anything, you miss too much. While I didn’t love every part of the adventure, I was still riveted. And I loved the 1980s references (does anyone remember Coloralls?). I’d like to re-read this one in paper. And soon. If you enjoy books with strong characters and engaging writing, pick this one up. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. My rating: 4.5 stars.
 
I’ve never read anything by P.G. Wodehouse, but he’s been on my TBR for a few years. And now, thanks to Good Night, Mr. Wodehouse, he’s just moved up to the top. When this book came out, I was drawn by the cover, but I couldn’t get a good idea of what the book was about, and since I was still leery about trying new fiction, I forgot about it. Fast-forward several years to last December when I ran across a copy of the book in a used bookstore for $2.00. That’s minimal investment, so I snatched it up. I read a couple pages and could not get it out of my mind, so I moved it up to my January reading list (a third chunkster for the month). You guys, I loved this book. Apparently, it’s one of a number of books in which Faith Sullivan writes about Nell Stillman and Harvester, Minnesota in the early 1900s. This is a book very much like The Ninth Hour where nothing much happens other than life unfolds, people make decisions that affect their whole lives, lives move on to their ends. Nell is widowed with a young son, Hilly, in the early years of the 1900s, and she must make a living for herself and her son. Along the way, she makes friends, falls in love, and finds the books of P.G. Wodehouse, which get her through the various losses that come her way. If you like quiet novels set in small towns with easy characters, this is one to add to your list. It was a cozy, comfortable, at times sad, read. I loved it. My rating 4.5 stars.  
 
I’d read that See You in the Cosmos is the new Wonder. Although I doubted that very much, I was definitely interested in reading it. I like children’s books about smart kids figuring things out on their own. And for the most part, that’s what this one was. Alex is an 11-year-old boy (though he’s 13 in responsibility years) who has a passion for space. He and his dog, Carl Sagan, set out on their own to a rocket launching convention, and along the way, he makes lots of adult friends and discovers things about his dead father and absentee-though-in-the-same-house mother. The book is written entirely as a set of iPod-recorded transmissions by Alex to outer space beings, which Alex plans to launch into space on his rocket, Discovery III. I loved the book for the first half or two-thirds, but then it just seemed to spin out into a tale much too dramatic and intense for a children’s book. Themes of infidelity and mental illness are introduced. A near-fatal accident takes place. It just all felt like too much, especially for a children’s book. I would have enjoyed this one better if it allowed itself to be about Alex and not so much about those around him. I had been planning to buy a copy for my 12-year-old grandson, but I decided against it when I finished, which is too bad because I absolutely adored Alex. The audio version of this one is superb. My rating: 4 stars.


 

 

Monday, January 22, 2018

What I'm reading this week (1/22/18)

Last week I finished:

I'd been circling around the Maisie Dobbs series for years, and I finally decided to take the plunge. I wasn't sure I needed another long series to peck away at, but then, what does need have to do with it? I almost made this my first DNF of the year. So, I'm here to warn you, if you quit in the first 70 pages, you're missing out. Now, I think 70 pages is an awful lot of book to work my way through (esp. when the book is only 300 pages long) before it gets going, but this is a leisurely read. If you're not into slow English plots, this one might drive you nuts. In that first 70 pages, although we're introduced to Maisie Dobbs, we know nothing about her. I began to fear we never would. But then we go back in time to look at Maisie's childhood (mother died young, raised by loving father) her education provided by the lady whom Maisie is in service to, and her nursing work during World War I. The mystery she's called to solve involves a home for veterans disfigured by the Great War, who need a retreat from the harsh stares of society. But the Retreat is run by a man who strips the men of their surnames and asks them to sign over their savings to the running of the Retreat. Several men who once lived at the Retreat are found in the local cemetery, and things smell fishy to Maisie and others. Was there foul play involved in the deaths of these young men? Once I got past the idea of the slow-moving plot and learned more about Maisie and her methods, I really, really liked this book. It's wonderfully written, the characters are vivid, and aside from the mystery (and war reminiscence), there's not much acrimony. I was charmed, and I'm so glad I stuck with this one. I believe there are 14 books in this series, so I have lots of enjoyable reading ahead of me. My rating: 4 stars.

And then there's Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine, which I should have abandoned "straight away." I told my husband I'm realizing just how terrible I am at knowing when to close a book for good, and finishing this one is proof of it. I really didn't like this book. At all. It's everything I dislike about contemporary fiction: unreal situations, unlikable main characters, humor that isn't funny, liberal use of hot button topics, and a seeming lack on the author's part to really know her main character and the character's motivations. There was a "twist" at the end that I saw coming a mile away, and I was just begging the book to get to the plot it had been hinting at all along. Ugh, I was just so frustrated with this one. Why didn't I give it up? The story is of Eleanor Oliphant, a young woman who works in an office, lives alone, and has problems with social situations and alcohol. Something terrible has happened in her past, and she's haunted by her abusive and terrible mum. Oh, and she develops a crush on someone who literally doesn't know she exists. She meets people who lift her out of her awful life, blah, blah, blah. I got so tired of Eleanor, and you know what? She is not completely fine. I know a lot of people loved this book, but I cannot recommend it. My rating: 2 stars.

A couple of years ago I read Tom Ryan's Following Atticus and I was blown away. There are a ton of sweet animal books out there, but this one was different. It had depth that I'd never seen in any of the cute-dog-on-the-cover books. (In other words, it was not Marley and Me.) Ryan was writing a memoir but not just of himself, of his wonderful miniature Schnauzer, Atticus. Together, the two of them climbed an absurd number of mountains and they were close in a way that man and dog seldom are. There was something almost mystical about the pair. It's one of my very favorite books. Last year, Ryan published the follow-up to that book, Will's Red Coat, about Will, the aging dog whom Ryan and Atticus take in in order for the dog to die with dignity. This book is as good as the first book, and it certainly doesn't need to be read after the first book, but I'd suggest reading Following Atticus first anyway. I think you want to get a feel for Atti before going into this one. If you're a dog lover, I can't imagine you won't love this (these) books. If you're not an animal lover, the anthropomorphizing and training techniques Ryan employs might seem a little odd to you. I feel this book ventured more into that odd territory than Atticus did, and Ryan's way of seeing the world differs a good deal from mine, but there's something so respectable about Ryan and his books and his relationships with his dogs that makes me forgive all that. This isn't a great review, but it's a hard book to review. Just know that I highly recommend this one and its predecessor. My rating: 4 stars.
(As I write this, the Kindle version of Will's Red Coat is on sale for $1.99, and I've seen it and Following Atticus on sale numerous times in the past.)

I've read memoirs and biographies by all of the Bush family: President George H. W. Bush, first lady Barbara Bush, President George W. Bush, first lady Laura Bush, as well as books written by members of Bush 43's staff (Condi Rice, Dana Perino...), so there's not a lot of Bush family lore I don't know. Still, when the Bush twins (George W. & Laura's girls, Barbara and Jenna--named for their grandmothers) came out with Sisters First last year, I immediately put it on my TBR. They take turns writing chapters about their parents and grandparents, their childhood, their years living in the White House, their Secret Service detail, dating & marriage (Jenna), and careers and passions. It was quite fun. While it wasn't terribly well organized, it followed a chronological path and was easy to pick up and read a few pages and then put down again. Nothing spectacular here, and I was kind of turned off by their various "bad girl" stories that I felt were quite immature for women their age, but I was charmed by their characterizations of their grandparents on both sides. I just love candid stories about (first lady) Barbara Bush! If you're a Bush family fan, you'll likely want to read this one. My rating: 3 stars.
 

I'll be continuing with:
 

Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat is sort of kicking my butt. It's much longer/denser than I'd expected, and while I'm making steady progress, I fear not finishing it this month.

Same with Where Now. Three hundred and fifty pages of poetry by the same poet are just too many.

And I've finally started The Vanderbeekers of 141st Street. I'm enjoying it, but I feel really behind.

So...I've cancelled my last "main" book of the month in order to have plenty of time to finish these.
 

My audiobook:
 

I probably should have read this one to get the full benefit, but I'm so excited to read Harper's second book (Force of Nature) coming out in early February, and I really wanted to read this one first. So, I chose the audio version. It's very good. Very serious in tone. A bit graphic, so be warned. But overall, very well written and well plotted.
 
 
 

Wednesday, January 17, 2018

2018 Reading Goals



It's that time of year! Time to share my reading goals for the new year. I spent a large chunk of 2017 working on these, adding things, removing things, changing the numbers, but I still feel like they're not complete. I just can't decide what's missing. So, like last year, I'll likely be adding items mid-way through the year as the mood strikes. But for now, we'll go with this.


2018 Reading Goals

 

Emphasis: Read current.

I really want to get better at reading the current books while they're current. My biggest goal this year takes this into account.
 


1. Re-read Pride and Prejudice.

I read a Jane Austen novel each year, and since I finished the rotation last year, I'm starting over again with the first Austen book I read, Pride and Prejudice. I cannot wait.
 

2. Begin Prose Works. Finish if possible.

I try to read a spiritual book each year, and since I've never read Mary Baker Eddy's Prose Works, I think it's time. This is a collection of her letters to the Christian Science churches, addresses, and various other works that I've never read in its entirety. Being a large book, and wanting to savor and pray over the content, this one will likely be a yearlong endeavor, and I won't be upset if it continues into next year.
 

3. Read 50 books published in 2017 and 2018.

This is really my main goal for the year. So often I put off reading a book or feel like I can't read something new when so many books have been waiting for months. This will, hopefully, bring my reading up to date while still leaving plenty of room for books written before 2017.


4. Read 30 modern classics or high-profile books. [began July 2017]

This is a continuation of a goal I made in July of last year, setting the number at 20 or 25. I finished 16 in the last part of 2018, so I have upped the number to 30. Some possible titles: The Age of Innocence, Endurance, Their Eyes Were Watching God, Station Eleven, and some poems by Robert Frost.

5. Read 10 chunksters.

I have way more than 10 chunksters on my "must read" list, so here's hoping I can get to them all. Some will be read on audio, I'm sure. Some possibilities: Jacques Pépin New Complete Techniques; Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat; Bunny Mellon; and Jackie, Ethel, Joan.



6. Re-read 5 books.
I did very little re-reading last year, and I really want to revisit some of my favorites from the past, so I'm making a goal of reading at least five. I think Wuthering Heights and Angela's Ashes will be two of them.


7. Abandon 5 books.

This is a new goal I've never tried before, but I need to get better about leaving a book when it disappoints me. I shouldn't suffer through any book, no matter the reason.


8. Read 1,000 poems.

I believe this is the third year for this goal. Last year I read nearly 2,700 poems, but I don't anticipate getting anywhere near that this year. One thousand will be fine.


9. Read 100 books.

I toyed with making this 150 to match my 2017 book count, but I don't want the pressure. Who knows where my reading will take me? Still, I think 100 is doable for me.


10. Read 50 picture books.

This is always on my list of goals. I generally read 80 or 100 or more, but I want to read at least 50 to keep in touch with what's popular in picture books.


11. Read the Sentinel.

My church puts out three periodicals (four, actually, but one is for speakers of other languages), and we are meant to read them all. I diligently read one, the monthly Christian Science Journal, and now I'm adding a second, the weekly Sentinel. No doubt it will bless me, and I really enjoy pulling out my periodicals in the evening and seeing my husband follow suit.


12. Write something (almost) every day.

This might be my yearly fail. I'm trying journaling again. I made it into June, writing every day, in 2016, but then an event happened that I didn't know how to write about, and I got backed up, and I eventually abandoned my journal. But I really loved doing it. I'm working on making this a doable daily task by lowering expectations. Short, pithy entries, for one; not having to capture everything for another; and writing about world and national events as well as personal ones. We're living in interesting times, and I for one would like a record of them.

I normally include a bunch of book covers that I plan to read, but since this year's reading will be led by what will be published, it's hard to predict what I'll read. It will be an interesting year.

What are your goals, reading an otherwise, for 2018? Put your link in the comments.

 

 

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Top Ten Fiction of 2017

I read a lot more fiction this year than ever before, and I loved most of it. I've finally found what I like (and can't tolerate) in a novel. It was difficult narrowing it down to just ten, so I gave an honorable mention.


Here are my favorite novels read last year.


 
This was the first book I finished last year, and I loved it. I'm so glad I finally got to it, even it I was the last person to have done so.
 
I absolutely adored this book, which is part memoir and part fiction. I listened to it on audio, but some day I'll go back and read it, too. It's a silly and poignant adventure story about a young couple in the 1930s returning a pet alligator to Florida. It would make a great movie.

This was, hands down, my favorite read of the year, in any category. It's the story of a small hockey town rocked by a crime. The writing is superb. Also, this is the only book on this list that is contemporary fiction.

I read the first four books in The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency series about a lady detective in Botswana, and I loved every one of them. This is one of my new favorite things, and it started off a whole year of reading books about Africa.

This is the fourth in the Flavia de Luce mystery series, which I adore. This one, though, is one of my favorites so far for its atmospheric coziness. Put this on your list of winter/Christmas books for the end of this year!

Although I didn't love the way the book ended, I loved this novel. It was so well-paced and moody and mysterious, but also very down-to-earth. It's the story of a young Irish Catholic girl who appears to be living without sustenance and the nurse who attempts to suss out the truth. People seem to either love or hate this one, but I'm in the former category.
 
This is another book that suffered from a bad ending. The end was much too long and really seemed to work against what the rest of the book had accomplished. Still, it was so beautifully written, despite its drag of an ending, it was one of the best books I read last year. It's about an American missionary family in the Congo in the 1950s, a tumultuous time in that part of the world.
 
This is the third in the Kopp Sisters series, and it might be my favorite. It was a very cozy novel, and I enjoyed it immensely.
 
This was really quite a story. It's the fictionalized events of the AC vs. DC current war between Thomas Edison and George Westinghouse in the late 19th century. An amazing story, and so engaging.

Another quiet, cozy, atmospheric novel. I loved this book. It you have a high tolerance for slim plots, this is the cream of the crop. It's the story of a young widow, her daughter, and the nuns who help them throughout the years.

This is my honorable mention. I found it well-written and engaging, without preaching about race and inequality. It follows two sisters and their descendants, one family in Africa, one family in America. It's worth a read.