book report #10

*Mother Tongue (Christine Gilbert) - I thoroughly enjoyed this memoir about a mother's (admittedly crazy) idea to become fluent in three languages - Mandarin, Arabic, and Spanish - and raise her family in a multi-lingual household. I admired Gilbert's honesty. She made a few huge mistakes in her journeys (China was a giant bust) but wasn't afraid to fess up, ask her husband for forgiveness, and move on - a lesson in humility she wasn't shy in sharing and one that we as readers could probably use ourselves.

*Eleanor & Park (Rainbow Rowell) - all the feels. All the teenage angst. This book was every John Hughes movie rolled into one hormone-fueled, modern-day Shakespearean drama, and I loved it. I was surprised though - I normally can't stand love stories, but this wasn't a typical romance novel nor was it a splashy beach read. It was a tale of pure yet unrequited love between two desperate teens told with both innocence and passion, and I never wanted it to end.

*The Flood Girls (Richard Fifield) - not a fan. The first 97% of this novel painted a vivid picture of an odd and quirky small Montana town that was part A League of their Own and part American Graffiti. I enjoyed peeking into this world so unlike any I've ever experienced, even if most of the fictional residents freely oscillated between character and caricature. But then the story turned tragic for no other reason (it seems to me) than sensationalism, and the last 20 pages were entirely dark and depressing with little chance for hope or redemption. It was by no means a long or difficult read, but I wouldn't recommend this one. It left me feeling strangely empty and dubious of humanity's ability for compassion.

*The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society (Annie Barrows & Mary Ann Shaffer) - I grabbed this book off the library shelf for two reasons: it was a softcover small enough to fit into my purse, and I had a train to catch and couldn't spend any more time in the library. As it turns out, my methods for choosing reading material aren't so terrible because this was a delightfully surprising book. Set in the years immediately following WWII and written as a series of letters and telegrams, this tells of the inhabitants of Guernsey - one of the Channel Islands (between France and England) that spent the entirety of the war under German occupation. I had never heard of Guernsey, let alone it's particular role in the war, and this book was a wonderful introduction to a time and a place unfortunately glossed over by my teachers. It was written with humor and empathy and had me googling all sorts of historical facts alongside my reading.

*Sons and Daughters of Ease and Plenty (Ramona Ausubel) - an intensely compelling novel about a couple's infidelity and how a series of events and one small decision can completely unravel a previously happy family unit. Ausubel created an inhabitable world and often revealed fascinating details and backstories of minor characters for the sole purpose of adding color to the story, which made me want even more from the book. The characters were all flawed but relatable, and toward the end I was rooting for no one and everyone. Definitely one of my favorite books of the year.

*Harry Potter and the Cursed Child (J.K. Rowling, Jack Thorne, John Tiffany) - so...I didn't like this. And it pains me to say that, because I love the Harry Potter books. I read each one within 48 hours of their release dates back in those early '00s, and hell, I spent this very evening taking a quiz to discover my true Patronus (spoiler alert: it's a grey squirrel. I'll be unpacking that one for a while.) But this play was vapid. And not written well. Or rather, written at a much lower reading level than the final books in the original series (a literary device I truly appreciated), which frankly just pissed me off. Either the playwrights didn't think a play can be written with compound sentences (it can) or they were intentionally writing for the grade school set, but either way it created a disjointed narrative. Also - the scenes were JARRINGLY short. From both a literary perspective (let's try a little harder, shall we?) and a technical theater perspective (SO many scene changes!!), it was distracting. Finally, I just didn't like the story. Without giving anything away, it felt forced, unbelievable, and obvious all at the same time. I've heard the London production of this play is fantastic, so maybe all the smoke and mirrors help hide the structural flaws in the script. But since it's unlikely I'll be seeing the play in person any time soon, I'm going to need a little more than this version of the script to keep me interested.

book report #9

*Love With a Chance of Drowning (Torre DeRoche) - a fun and entertaining memoir about a woman who overcame her fear of water (hence the title) and embarked on a three-year sailing adventure from LA to Australia and beyond. I'm not normally a fan of memoirs but I am a fan of boats and love stories, and the humorous and familiar tone DeRoche took to tell her story kept me engaged instead of at arm's length. While I doubt I'll sell all my possessions to live full-time on an 18-foot boat, this book almost made me want to take sailing lessons and definitely made me want to jump on the next flight to French Polynesia.

*Undermajordomo Minor (Patrick DeWitt) - this one was strange and not in a good way. I never quite figured out if it was a fairy tale, allegory, magical realism, or some other type of literally genre I never learned about in college. Amazon reviews call it "delightful, wacky, quirky, and charming" but I just thought it was weird. Not my cup of tea.

*Wild By Nature (Sarah Marquis) - honestly, this book eventually pissed me off so much that I stopped reading it about 75 pages from the end. It started off with promise - independent female explorer sets off to walk the length of entire countries - Mongolia, China, Thailand - on her way to Australia. After some obvious setbacks (weather, equipment failure, more weather, a tooth extraction) her trek totaled nearly three years in time, and this book is her memoir about the walk. But at no point did she ever say why she was obsessively walking. Was she running from something? To something? To discover something? To learn something? And even though she had helpers and fixers throughout her journey (she was given a contact person in each country and boxes of supplies at each stopping point) she never justified how she could simply take three years out of her life to walk. I guess it was a sponsored trip? Even if it was, she wrote with such a jarringly jib tone throughout (oops! almost died again lol) that it was entirely off-putting. I had high hopes for this one and it sadly did not come through.

*A Book of Silence (Sara Maitland) - I've obviously had female-adventurer memoirs on the brain this year, and this one was interesting and informative, if not a little too heavy on the dry research. Regardless, it was an interesting concept - a post-marriage woman in her 50's goes in search of silence - but what is it, exactly? And what does prolonged silence do to a person? I most enjoyed when Maitland got personal and reflected on her own silent discoveries as opposed to the more scholarly sections, but even so, this book got me thinking about my own auditory experiences, including but not limited to the ironic fact that I read the majority of this book on the subway, a notably loud method of transport that leaves little room for silent introspection.

*The Nest (Cynthia D'Aprix Sweeney) - an all-around wonderful novel. A smart, funny, and captivating story that was a welcome blend of epic family saga and modern relevance. The characters were beautifully flawed but entirely relatable and the plot was so enticing that I actually woke up early one morning to finish reading it before heading out for the day. I'd been in a bizarre literary rut for the past few months (see above) and this was the perfect story to get me back into the reading game.

*We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves (Karen Joy Fowler) - part mystery (but not really), part anthropological study (but not really), part memoir (but not really) and part tell-all (but not really), this beautifully bizarre work of fiction is narrated by a woman who was raised alongside a chimpanzee back when these kinds of things were still kosher in the scientific world. Needless to say, her upbringing screwed her up in all kinds of ways, and even though I tend to stray from the "I had a terrible childhood" kind of stories, this one was just enticing enough to keep me reading and get me thinking about what exactly determines the difference between humans and animals.

book report #8

*The Story of a New Name (Elena Ferrante) I was hooked by book no. 1, and now with this second Neapolitan Novel, I have become fully addicted to all things Ferrante. It's a little like the first-year psychology student discovering that he has all the issues he's studying, but I found so much of myself, my teenage years, and my current feelings toward life-long friendships in this book that it was almost as if I was reading my parallel universe. I'm at the mercy of the Queens Public Library to decide when I get to read the third book, but if it takes much longer I may just buy the series myself.

*Among the Ten Thousand Things (Julia Pierpont) a slightly disjointed narrative that annoyed me at first, but then I got used to it. I can't say I ever got fully onboard with this book, but the storyline was interesting, if not the tiniest bit tired (husband cheats on wife, their entire family derails). A quick read that does well on airplanes and subways.

*I Will Teach You To Be Rich (Ramit Sethi) I haven't proselytized a book in quite some time, but I cannot shut up about this book. Seriously, ask my friends. I've talked about the financial lessons I gained in this wonderfully comprehensive and plainly stated how-to book over dinner with friends, in bed with my fiancee, to my parents around the breakfast table, on the subway, at work, and even while driving a golf cart in Hawaii - because it's just that good and easy to understand. By breaking down money management to its' most elementary terms and practices, Sethi makes having and keeping money entirely possible. I read this book off a suggestion of a fellow blogger and wish I'd read it five years ago. But there is NO time like the present to get started on making smart financial decisions that will benefit you for the rest of your life.

*The House of the Spirits (Isabel Allende) it took me a REALLY long time to get into this book. It's not a nice story - set in pre-revolutionary Chile, the men are mean, the women are persecuted, the rapes are rampant, and there was such a graphic abortion scene that I had to skim over a few pages. However, once we met the mother of this multi-generational saga, the harshness of the characters' lives eased up (slightly) and things got good. Above everything else, it's a beautiful tale of love, life, and revolution in an era and country I know so little about. Also, it counts as the second of ten translated works I'm hoping to read this year.

*The Vacationers (Emma Straub) A light, quick, and breezy read (which I really appreciated after the heaviness of the aforementioned Allende), but nonetheless surprisingly poignant and delicately written. The setting (a two-week vacation in Mallorca) didn't hurt either, nor did the dime-store descriptions of the sexy Spanish tutor. The perfect beach book.

*A Little Life (Hanya Yanagihara) Devastating, depressing, and over 800 pages long, yet somehow also easy to read and impossible to put down. By the last 100 pages, I was crying so hard that I could barely read the words on the page, and this book was ultimately the catalyst for not one, but two evenings of actual weeping. This was my pick for my book club (I know, good job, Mar) and everyone who finished the book had equal-if-not-worse visceral reactions to any one of the horribly violent and sadistic rape scenes. One member had such bad nightmares that she threw in the towel at page 400 and didn't even finish the book. So it it worth a read? Well, the ensuing discussion at book club was one of the longest and deepest we've ever had - so many themes and questions emerged from the reading that we couldn't stop talking about it. If you're looking for a meaty but upsetting tome to sink your teeth into, this book is for you. Just be warned that it is not a nice story.

book report #7

*Bangkok 8 (John Burdett) - I was all set to love what I thought would be an action-packed mystery thriller, but was honestly a bit disappointed when it turned out to be a fairly exhaustive look into Thailand's rampant prostitution and drug trade pampered with transcendental Buddhism, meditation, and some surprising sexism. It took me a long time to get into this book - but once I realized what it was (a very real look into the darker side of Thailand) and what it wasn't (a noir detective novel) I grew to appreciate it. It did not, however, have me booking my next flight to Bangkok.

*The Clasp (Sloane Crosley) - I'm a huge fan of Crosley's essays and short narratives, and I was really excited when this novel showed up as "available" on my library queue. And while I think it was missing a bit of the sardonic and witty observational humor that so beautifully peppers her essays, it was nevertheless an entertaining and interesting story about three friends who reconnect over unusual circumstances. It bordered on wacky caper at times, and I honestly think she should have taken that energy even further. I appreciate that Crosley wanted to stick to a more serious coming-of-age narrative in which al the characters made significant emotional shifts by the end of the story, but sometimes a book about a treasure map should just be a book about a treasure map.

*Big Magic (Elizabeth Gilbert) - a quick and easy read that's best suited to those who need a creative boost. Gilbert imparts a lot of wisdom and instruction to those looking for inspiration and guidance in honing their craft, and even though most of what she says isn't going to change one's life, it's still interesting to read another take on the creative process, especially from someone with such a wide and varied career as Gilbert's.

*Swamplandia (Karen Russell) - a fantastical and haunting hero's journey through the murky swamps of Florida. I was surprisingly enchanted by this book - I don't normally love stories about tortured childhoods and terrible fathers, but there was something so beautifully innocent and painful about the Bigtree family's descent into hell and their struggle for redemption that I spent more than a few nights staying up too late just to read another chapter.

*Bird by Bird (Anne Lamott) - I clearly needed some creative inspiration towards the end of last year, as I read this, Big Magic, and Ann Patchett's This is the Story of a Happy Marriage nearly back-to-back. All three should be required reading for anyone who aspires to write even one good sentence, but Lamott's book leads the class. I found myself referring to passages in conversations with other creative minds before I even finished the book, and have applied many of Lamott's suggestions to both my writing and overall daily life since reading it.

*My Brilliant Friend (Elena Ferrante) - a vintage Italian soap opera spread across four books (this is the first of the series) that is sweeping, heartbreaking, addictive, and uncomfortably relatable. Set amidst the dingy and rough neighborhoods of post-war Naples, the characters in this world are cruel and closed, but that's exactly what makes the reader want to dig even further into this terrible yet all-too real world of Ferrante's. I was "assigned" this book via my book club, but was really excited to read it, as it's been on my list for quite some time AND it counts as one of my ten foreign/translated works that I'm attempting to read this year. The downside? Each of the four novels are hundreds of pages long and I'm now in a committed relationship to read them all. If you need me, I'll be over here reading quietly for the next three months.

book report #6

*Magnetic North (Lee Maynard) - I quite literally judged a book by its cover and grabbed this one simply because I liked the look of it. It was a good thing I did, because I normally wouldn't have willingly read a story about an aging and angry Vietnam vet-turned-hardened-biker dude who, along with his equally rough friend Slade, ride their motorcycles from Arizona to the Arctic Circle and violently rough up anyone who dares cross them along the way. Turns out, it's a gorgeous story - beautifully written with rich and raw portrayals of the road and the lonely characters they meet. Maybe I need to judge more books by their covers.

*The Long and Faraway Gone (Lou Berney) - I love me a good hardened detective story, and this novel was a perfect piece of noir. Two alternating storylines, red herrings, scorned women, colorful supporting characters, and revelations that I truly didn't see coming. I read this on the plane from Dublin to Paris and when we landed, I was about 30 pages from the end - and I actually wished the flight was longer so that I could finish it.

*This is the Story of a Happy Marriage (Ann Patchett) - a beautifully curated collection of some of Patchett's lesser known (to me, at least) essays, stories, and articles. This is required reading for anyone who is a writer, aspires to be a writer, or simply one who loves the written word.

*Astonish Me (Maggie Shipstead) - while this novel was a bit too meandering for me (it went from the 70's to the 90's to the 80's and back to the 70's, etc., and I tend to prefer more streamlined narratives), it was nevertheless an interesting story about people's rise and fall in the ballet world. I fear that my interest was mainly sustained due to the subject matter (I love a good dance story) since it did take me a little longer than usual to get into the book, but all it took was one late-night-reading-in-bed session to get me to plow through the last third.

*Eating Wildly (Ava Chin) - a memoir that made me want to trek right over to Astoria Park and start foraging for my dinner - and I am not one to willingly comb through dirt and brush. It also was refreshing to read a slightly lighter-themed memoir (one that wasn't all death/war/abuse). Granted, Chin had the requisite absent father, self-obsessed mother, dying grandparents, and string of failed relationships to warrant said memoir, but she nicely interspersed the bad stuff with fascinating details of the foraging world and mouth-watering recipes to accompany each forage.

Book report #5

My wanderlust kicked in pretty bad this summer, but I managed to keep it at bay with a full stack of novels set in exotic places. I also threw in two non-fiction choices because I'm still plugging away at that New Year's Res to read more non-fic (all the other resolutions have gone to pot, so I can at least try to keep up with that one). What's been on your reading list this summer?

*The Almost Nearly Perfect People (Michael Booth) - an insightful and in-depth anthropological look at the people that make up the five Nordic countries (Norway/Sweden/Finland/Denmark/Iceland). It was a tad (but really, just a tad) bit dry for my liking, but nevertheless a worthwhile dive into cultures and countries I'd never given much thought to beyond my Malm dresser.
*The Sunlight Night (Rebeca Dinerstein) - this beautiful narrative reads like a lyrical prototype to a Wes Anderson screenplay. Captivating, cinematic, and with the slightest twinge of fantasy, this tale of two lost and unsuspecting lives intertwining in the Arctic Circle had me nearly getting on the next flight to northern Norway - and is on track to becoming my favorite book of the year.
*All the Light We Cannot See (Anthony Doerr) - a hefty novel set in Europe during WWII, I thought the initial plot and concept were interesting (a reluctant German soldier! a blind French refugee! and where is that music coming from??) but the end both fizzled out quickly and wrapped up too nicely. It's an easy read despite it's length, so if you're into historical fiction this is a decent choice, but if WWII isn't your favorite era, then this one probably isn't worth it.
*The Diver's Clothes Lie Empty (Vendela Vida) - I read three of Vida's "women in crisis" novels right in a row (when I find an author I like, I tend to read as much of him/her as I can) and this was by far my favorite. It's short (I read it in a day) but intensely compelling, probably aided by the fact that it's written in the 2nd person which was odd at first but then I grew to absolutely love it. Days after I put the book down I found myself still thinking of the protagonist - what I would have done in her situation, what she is "doing" now, and my own personal relationship and reactions to theft and pickpocketing.
*The Lovers (Vendela Vida) - this story was a bit vague and meandering, but it was nonetheless evocative with the slightest touch of psychological thriller thrown in (and not to mention another quick read). The protagonist travels across much of Turkey for the duration of the story, and even the negatively portrayed locations solidified Turkey as one of my must-see destinations.
*Let the Northern Lights Erase Your Name (Vendela Vida) - another story set in the Arctic circle (still not sure why I've been so drawn to that area recently!) this was my least favorite Vida novel, mainly due to the fact that I couldn't easily identify with the protagonist and really couldn't stand the mother character. Vida did however create an interesting cocktail of abandonment issues, the treatment of indigenous peoples, and a stark and barren landscape, which makes this succinct story worth it if you're even a bit interested in any or all of those topics.
*Essentialism (Greg McKeown) - this is a straight-up guidebook to removing the mental clutter from your business so you can focus on the essential (hence the title). Easily digestible yet highly informative, I found myself taking notes and pausing to ponder many of McKeown's points and comments. Even though I don't have my own business per se, there are still dozens of areas in my personal life that would do quite well to go through the selective ringer suggested in this book.

Book report #4

* Like Water For Chocolate (Laura Easquirel) - just as the book jacket says, this story is part fairy tale/fantasy, part tele novella, part cookbook, and part myth. But it's beautifully, if not simply, written, and I specifically chose it to read on my south-of-the-border vacation because it's set in Mexico (is immersive-enviro-reading a thing? Let's make it a thing). It's a beautiful story, a quick read, and perfect for a lazy day at the pool or lake.

* Blue Mind (Walace J. Nichols) - a fascinating look at the power of water on the body as a whole. It never gets too "science-y" (but also never patronizes the reader) and I was pleasantly surprised that some of the quoted books and specialists throughout were texts and people I'd read and/or heard of. I thoroughly enjoyed this book and it resonated so deeply with me that I even started having my "water dreams" while reading it.

* The Girl on the Train (Paula Hawkins) - captivating and innovative right up until the very end. I won't give anything away, but I felt like the the author kind of copped out during the big "reveal." Nevertheless, this was a compelling thriller (think Gone Girl) and I easily plowed through it in a few days.

* can't and won't (Lydia Davis) - every couple of years, I get on a short story kick, and this collection fulfilled that need. It started out strong, but either it fizzled out or I remembered that I don't actually love short stories, and I ended up skimming through the last quarter of the book.

* The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up (Marie Kondon) - I have so. many. thoughts. about this book. First, all 224 pages could have EASILY been whittled down to a trifold pamphlet - Kondon makes about four points in total, and spends the rest of the book either relaying past client success stories or repeating her four "secrets." Second, Kondon never once discusses the very-real possibility that while her techniques may work well for single/solo-dwelling individuals, every step of her method will go out the door the second a subsequent, and most importantly, unwilling member of the family gets roped into the cleaning process. She makes a few decent suggestions - I do think that categorizing your stuff by item instead of location is a good idea (go through all your magazines at once, not just the ones in the living room), but I'm sorry Kondon, I'm not going to throw out the last letter my dying grandmother wrote to me just because you think it's "sentimental clutter." Read this book if you must, but please don't buy it - get it from the library and save your pennies for any other book.

* The War of Art (Steven Pressfield) - I had assumed I'd page through this thin little book in a day's worth of subway travels - but then I realized that each page is stuffed with such thought-provoking statements that it took me days to digest it all.  Lines like "the amateur believes he must first overcome his fear; then he can do his work. The pro knows that feat can never be overcome. He knows there is no such things as a fearless warrior or a dread-free artist" will have you first wondering why in the hell you ever thought that being an artist would be fun, but then rallying your craft into a much more focused and driven path.

* Maphead (Ken Jennings) - you wouldn't think a book about the history, development, and current relevance of maps would be a page-turner, but honestly I couldn't put this one down. Filled with fascinating facts and anecdotes about maps in general and "cartophiles" in particular, this book had me pining for not just the days of my early 20's when I lined my walls with maps indicating my travels around the world, but also that fateful day in 7th grade when I won the school-wide geography bee with the answer "El Nino."

What's on your summer reading list?

Book report #3

It's been a while since I've done a book review, and three months of a never-ending winter caused me to cuddle up in bed with a book more nights than not. I also (finally) remembered to utilize the library that has been located a half mile from where I've been living for the past five years - saving money AND supporting a local establishment - a win-win in my book! (pun intended) ;)

*Alena (Rachel Pashtin) - blending art, travel, museums, and a mystery, I really looked forward to this novel, expecting it to be as exciting as a Dan Brown story but with a female protagonist. And I was a fan of this novel up until the last quarter or so when it unfortunately became silly and unrealistic, all the characters started to annoy me, and the "mystery" frankly pissed me off.

*Man Seeks God (Eric Weiner) - it took me a LONG time to get through this book. Not because it's bad, but because each lengthy chapter is so packed with religious and spiritual insight that I needed time to digest each portion of the narrator's journey. I'm a big fan of Eric Weiner, and he does not disappoint in his recount of traveling all over the world in order to find a religion that suits his needs and personality. He treats each faith with respect and awe, and provides such a fascinating peek into each belief that this could easily be required reading for any Comparative Religions class.

*Sex at Dawn (Christopher Ryan and Cacilda Jetha) - this was my book club's selection for February, and I'm glad that it was "assigned" to me because I normally would have never picked up anything like this. Using genetics, anthropology, evolution, and a slew of other scientific devises I never studied while getting my B.A in theater, the authors set out to prove that humans are intrinsically non-monogamous creatures. It often turned way too dry and academic for my liking, but it nevertheless generated an evening of fascinating conversation and debate amongst my friends.

*Saltwater Buddha (Jaimal Yogis) - an entertaining narrative of a man's misspent youth-turned-zen surfer. Written with equal parts humor and spirituality, this digestible memoir had me looking up surfing schools in New York (they exist) before I even got to the end.

*The Kindness Diaries (Leon Logothetis) - I have to be honest here. I hated this book. A guy goes on a quest to travel around the globe on a motorbike with no money, no belongings, no gas, and no food, hoping to rely only on the kindness and offerings of others. He not only succeeds in his goal, but he also somehow manages to have the most unbelievable experiences in each country he visits all the while gracing the people he meets with outlandish and ostentatious presents in thanks for their kindness ("a new house!" "here, have a cow for your village!" "I will pay for your childrens' entire education!") His trip was so clearly fixed by his publishers (and the film crew that coincidently traveled a few paces behind him) that I was an unbeliever by the second chapter.

*Olive Kitteridge (Elizabeth Strout) - the harsh realities of life and the inevitability of death were starkly played so close to the surface that this beautiful but painfully sad portrayal of small-town life was, at times, overshadowed by it depressing nature. Characters come and go (as I suppose they do in anyone's life) but I found myself mourning their departure within the world that Strout created. A truly wonderful and compelling book, but you may want to keep a box of kleenex nearby when you read it, as I was taken by many of the moments and often surprisingly overcome with emotion.

Book report #2

These past few months my commute has consisted of 11 stops on one train (well, when the MTA isn't trying to ruin my life, that is) and I've been able to get through a good number of books on my reading list. I haven't done a book report since this past summer, so I figure now is a good a time as ever to review what's been getting me through the daily slog.

*The Penelopiad (Margaret Atwood)  - I'm a bit of a Greek mythology nerd, so I loved this version of The Odyssey as told from the point of view of Penelope (his wife) and her twelve maids. Very pro-feminist (but would it be a Margaret Atwood novel if it wasn't?), but also beautifully written and so very thought provoking. If I had read this in high school alongside Homer's original text, I assure you my term papers would have been very different.

*The Magicians (Lev Grossman) - I wanted to like this book. I really wanted to like this book. It's supposed to be some sort of real-life-modern-day Harry Potter (as though Harry Potter isn't technically set in modern day) and I was all set to devour this and the subsequent books in this trilogy. And then I hated it. I couldn't stand the characters, the scenarios weren't plausible, and the magical world in which the book is set had so many holes and inconsistencies I wanted to scream. Oh well, we can't all be winners.

*Gone Girl (Gillian Flynn) - could. not. put. this. down. Seriously - I got to a point halfway through the book where I just stared talking about the characters to anyone who would listen, regardless if they'd read the book or seen the movie because I just couldn't stop thinking about it. Did he do it? Is she telling the truth? Should I write a best-selling children's book series too or will that completely screw up my future children??? I haven't seen the movie yet, but it's high on the queue and I might just have to call an emergency book club meeting to decompress.

*Mr. Penumbra's Bookstore (Robin Sloan) - This is a really fun book. It's a fantasy story that might even border on YA literature, but so what? It's the story of analogue meeting digital in a magical world, and it takes you on a great ride with likable characters. Easily digestible, it's perfect for a plane ride or a long commute.

*The Expats (Chris Pavone) - Get lost in a wild trip around Europe while you follow an American spy (or is she?) and her husband (or is he?) as they try to rid themselves of the couple that are spying on them (or are they?). A touch confusing towards an end that borders on farcical, but it's a decent story that won't take you too long to power through and may give you some travel inspiration along the way.

*The Secret History (Donna Tartt) - This is Tartt's second novel, and it's fascinating to see how much she grew as a writer between her first two and her prize-winning The Goldfinch, written nearly a decade later (also - I unintentionally read her cannon backwards, starting with Goldfinch, then reading The Secret History, and ending with The Little Friend (see below) - I don't exactly what this means, but I felt it worth noting because it's an interesting way to approach a new writer or artist). Nonetheless, this is a great novel. There are some dark and (literally) cold moments, so maybe don't read this if you're already cooped up in your own personal northern winter wonderland, but the protagonist is so tortured and unassuming you can't help but stay to the end just to see if he ever pulls himself out of the hole he's fallen into.

*The Little Friend (Donna Tartt) - As mentioned, I read all three of Donna Tartt's novels this year, and clocking in at 1,991 total pages, I now realize that's a lot of Donna Tart in my life. But I tore right through The Goldfinch and thought A Secret History was pretty enticing as well (see above), so I assumed I'd love this, her first novel. While I didn't hate it, I also didn't love it - but mainly because it was fairly disturbing. The incredibly well-developed characters were sad, depressing people, the backwoods Southern town where they live made me uncomfortable, and one of the major plot points revolves around the presence of dozens of snakes, which happen to be one of my more feared animals. Read it if you're a Tartt fan, but maybe skim over the gory parts.

*The Creative Habit: Learn it and Use it for Life (Twyla Tharp) - one of my goals for 2015 is to read more non-fiction, so I decided to get a jump start with this book on creativity - and I LOVED it. The famed choreographer breaks her process down into small and discernible steps and makes you believe that you too can create anything. I highlighted and noted and doodled in the margins, and will probably read it again. This book might not be for everyone, but if you've ever thought yourself to be the creative type or if you are stuck in any kind of professional rut, then get thee to this book.

summer(2014): book report #1

Every summer in high school, I had reading and writing assignments to complete. Sometimes I'd have a list of books I needed to have read by the first day of school, other times I'd have to write a history paper and send it in to the teacher by a certain date in July; summer before senior year, I was faced with both types of assignments. Though it was a bit tricky to comprehend a detailed account of the Civil War while surrounded by blaring whistles, screaming kids, and the reverberation of the nearest diving board and corresponding ker-splash of an unfortunate belly flop (what, you weren't a lifeguard too?), I didn't really mind having to work my way through a tower of books all summer long. With graduation, though, came end of my summer reading. I spent that summer before college (and a few summers after that) bathing in the glow of the newest Cosmo magazine and not much else. However, I eventually grew to miss what had previously been a huge part of my life - reading for pleasure. It took me until I moved to New York to really get back into the habit of regular reading (long subway rides proved to be the perfect vehicle to rekindle my love of literature...pun intended), and now with my iPad I can't even use the excuse that a particular book is too heavy to fit into my purse (don't roll your eyes. it's a harsh reality of life in the big city.)

I am always looking for book recommendations. It's probably a result of all those high school summers, but I can't resist a good reading list - so in case you're looking for a little reading inspiration yourself, below are some of my most recent favorite reads. Almost all are novels (though I desperately want to be, I'm just not a non-fiction kind of gal), and you've probably heard of or even read most of them. But just in case you haven't, why not give 'em a try this summer?

I Was Told There'd Be Cake and, How Did You Get This Number by Sloane Crosley - I'm not normally a fan of essays or short stories, but each tale hits so close to home that these books could have easily been my own (more well-written) diary. Starting out as a struggling artist in New York. Traveling solo in Europe. Awkward presents from ex-boyfriends. If you want a beautifully funny patchwork of what it's like to be in your 20's in the 2000's, grab one or both of these books.

The Revised Fundamentals of Caregiving by Jonathan Evison - I got this book after picking up one of those free iTunes downloads at Starbucks one afternoon. I hadn't really even intended to read it (I don't usually put too much stock in free downloads) but after having nothing else to do on the train one day, I started it - and then couldn't put it down. I found myself absorbed in an anti-hero's odyssey and desperately wanting to be included in such an unlikely group of people's northwest road trip.

Let's Pretend This Never Happened by Jenny Lawson - this is a bizarre book about an even more bizarre childhood, but Lawson imbues so much humor and love into her story that you can't help get on board.

The Telling Room by Michael Paterniti - truth be told, this book gets a bit long and lost in the narrative at times, and there are way too many footnotes for my liking. But it's evocative descriptions of rural Castile and dozens of passages devoted to the taste and smell of cheese may have you booking your next vacation to a tiny village in northern Spain.

Where'd You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple - part mystery, part travelogue, part diary, and part satire, this book is that rare combination of comedy and page-turner that I thought about for weeks after finishing it.

Seating Arrangements by Maggie Shipstead - this is a beautiful and unassuming story about a wedding weekend fraught with lust, envy, regret, and an exploding cetacean. You may grow to really dislike the family's patriarch, but you'll certainly want to stick around to see what happens.

Wild by Cheryl Strayed - the movie version is coming out this winter, so do yourself a favor and read the book first. If you're like me and think "hiking" is when you walk up a few stone stairs in Central Park, then let yourself get lost in the beautiful desolation of Strayed's solo hike on the Pacific Crest Trail.

The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt - as the most recent winner of the Pulitzer prize for fiction, nearly as much has been said about this book as it is long. Clocking in at almost 800 pages, this tome takes you on an near-fantastical journey from New York to Las Vegas to Amsterdam as the protagonist tries to protect a stolen work of art and meets a dizzying cast of insolent and self-absorbed characters along the way. I could NOT put this book down.

The Love Affairs of Nathaniel P. by Adelle Waldman - set within Brooklyn's nouveau-lit community, reading this book was like reliving every date and dinner party I've been to in the past five years - not necessarily a pleasant experience, but since the novel is told from the point of view of the guy, an educational one.

  

The Interestings by Meg Wolitzer - while at times this novel had a Forrest Gump-like quality as it chronicled the lives of a group friends over the course of almost 40 years, it was a fascinating look at the development of the "me" generation as the narcissistic and self-absorbed teenagers struggled to find fulfilling careers and relationships.

Please note: the above are affiliate links, which may earn me a small commission if you click on them (but at no extra cost to you!) Regardless if I get paid or not, I still stand by my recommendations and hope you enjoy them too ;)