I thought I’d check in with what I’ve been reading in 2018 so far.
I’ve finished 5 books so far this year. (Goodreads helpfully reminds me that I’m 5 books behind with my reading goal, as well.) I’m not reading as much as I used to, but I have been reading before bed and listening to audio books in my car so it’s not too tragic.
Here are the books I’ve read, am reading, & my thoughts.
A Beautiful Work in Progress by Mirna Valerio
This book, a memoir by a black woman who is also into ultra running (a sport dominated by lanky white men) is partially to blame for the fact that I recently signed up for my first marathon. I’ve followed Mirna on instagram for a while and I think she’s delightful. I really appreciate the message that she sends – you don’t have to look a certain way to run, and most importantly, running is fun, even when it hurts. I enjoyed reading this book.
Strange Fruit, Volume 1: Uncelebrated Narratives from Black History by Joel Christian Gill
During Black History Month in the U.S., we usually hear about the same stories over and over, which suggests (along with the fact that we dedicate the shortest month to it) that black history doesn’t have the same depth as the history that is predominately taught in schools (white). This is not true, and Gill’s graphic novel depicting lesser known stories of black history makes it known that black history is vast, varied, and surprising.
Fresh Complaint by Jeffrey Eugenides
Ever a writer’s writer, Jeffrey Eugenides really drove me wild with jealousy with this one. I absolutely loved it. The man can write a story.
American Primitive by Mary Oliver
A book of poems. Not much to say about this one – everyone (as far as I’m concerned) loves Mary Oliver.
You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me by Sherman Alexie
I had a weird experience with this one. When I started it in January, Sherman Alexie was a literary wonder, loved and admired. By the time I finished, he was another #Metoo statistic. A lot of people are saying they won’t read his books anymore, but frankly I don’t subscribe to the belief that a person’s crimes or misdoings are always worth tossing out their art with the bath water. I think it’s good to look at who has power in the literary community (and all professional areas) and consider sticking more women in there. But overall the scandal didn’t really cause me to see the book differently because I was already kind of put off by it.
I like memoirs, but this was very stream-of-consciousness, which didn’t really work for me. On the surface, this is a memoir about the death of Alexie’s mother, who is depicted as a bad mother, which wasn’t well enough detailed, especially in light of the over-romanticization of his absent alcoholic father. She seemed like an interesting woman but I never got a good picture of her. Overall, each story is more about Alexie himself than anyone else. Sometimes it was funny, sometimes it was heartbreaking, and sometimes it was just plain tedious. The best parts of the book were Alexie’s anecdotes about growing up as a Native American reservation teenager attending a nearby white high school. So I guess I should finally pick up The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, which has been on my to-read list for years.
And that’s it for books completed. Currently, I’m trying to read more literary magazines to get me in the mood to write short stories. Right now I’m working through back issues of Tin House. I am also writing some truly awful short stories, and getting ready to participate in Camp NaNoWriMo in April. Happy spring, y’all.