2016: Looking Back

As I mentioned in my Favorite Books of 2016 post, 2016 was a fantastic year in reading for me. Honestly, I can’t remember a better year since maybe 2012. The better part of my reading year was filled with four- and five-star books, and not simply because I was being generous. At the same time, several books I expected to love didn’t make the cut. You can see everything I read this year here, but I wanted to cover a few highlights of my reading year that aren’t just about favorites:

My very favorite books of the year were Angle of Repose by Wallace Stegner and Commonwealth by Ann Patchett.

The book I finished too late to consider for year-end favorites was The Swans of Fifth Avenue by Melanie Benjamin. This fictional account of Truman Capote and his New York society “swans” was a delightful surprise. If you enjoyed this one, I highly recommend The Two Mrs. Grenvilles by Dominick Dunne, a fictionalized account of the story of Ann Woodward, the socialite accused of murdering her husband.

The best debut author I read was hands-down Imbolo Mbue. Behold the Dreamers, a novel about a Cameroonian family employed by a Titan of Wall Street just before the 2008 crash, is so powerful that feels like it was written by someone who has already churned out award-winning work. Unlike a lot of novels that deal with contemporary events, I can see this one becoming a book that remains relevant because Mbue seamlessly manages to integrate a timeless story about wanting a better life with current events, events that never overshadow the more intimate drama of a husband and wife’s struggles to get ahead. It got some good attention, but I don’t think it got nearly enough. I look forward to reading her next book. She will most definitely be a writer to watch.

Another book I thought deserved more attention was The Unseen World by Liz Moore. Ada Sibelius’s father, the only parent she has ever known, is beginning to lose his mind. In the midst of this crisis, she learns a family secret that sends her on a mission to learn the truth about her father. Moore never lets Ada’s story veer into melodrama, nor does she turn the eccentric Ada into a silly caricature of quirkiness. Moore is a quiet writer, developing deep, original characters without sacrificing plot. I also recommend her novel Heft.

A book from my TBR pile that made quite an impression on me was Crow Lake by Mary Lawson. I bought it used five or six years ago after browsing through the (virtual) bargain bins on Better World Books, and then I promptly stuck it on the shelf and forgot about it, probably in favor of something new and shiny everyone was discussing. This is another debut novel, although Lawson, a Canadian, was 56 when it was published (hope for us all). It tells the story of the four Morrison children, whose parents are tragically killed in a car accident at the beginning of the book. The novel has an unreliable narrator in Kate Morrison, who has very definite ideas about how the family tragedy has shaped everything in their lives. This novel is an interesting and often quietly humorous look at how family roles and myths can lock us into patterns that may actually have nothing at all to do with what really happened.

I re-read three books this year, M Train by Patti Smith, You Remind Me of Me by Dan Chaon, and Machine Dreams by Jayne Anne Phillips. I loved every single one of these books the first time around, and I’m happy to say they remained five-star reads. Re-reading M Train was like visiting a favorite friend, and I suspect it’s a book I could re-read every year without tiring of it. In 2017 I am planning to re-read Just Kids (more on that in a forthcoming “Looking Forward” post), but I may make room for both. I originally read You Remind Me of Me in 2005, on two long plane trips to and from Las Vegas. Like Kent Haruf or Bonnie Nadzam, Chaon is one of those writers who beautifully crafts the small stories of people in the so-called flyover states. Machine Dreams was Phillips’s (probably best known for her novel Lark & Termite) debut novel, and it covers the years from WWII through Vietnam, giving us the changing face of a nation and times through the stories of family of four in small-town West Virginia.

Thirty-six of the fifty-five books I’ve read this year were by new-to-me authors. Of those books, the best surprises were All My Puny Sorrows by Miriam Toews, Mr. Splitfoot by Samantha Hunt, and A Head Full of Ghosts by Paul Tremblay. All My Puny Sorrows sounded like a book I would love from the get-go (because who doesn’t love books about suicide, really?), but the humor was completely unexpected. The latter two were both definitely outside my wheelhouse and were books I picked up because they were generating so much buzz with readers I trust. Mr. Splitfoot is absolutely grounded and magical at the same time, and Hunt never gives over to too much weirdness or too much explanation. A Head Full of Ghosts is supremely clever, even for those of us who aren’t horror fans, with fully realized characters and an overall interesting take on family narratives. Oh, and also an honorable mention for Rules of Civility by Amor Towles, which didn’t surprise me so much but did delight me to no end.

Thirty-one of the fifty-five books I read were by women, but only a lousy seven were by non-white authors, which is an issue I realized late in the year and addressed in this post. To tell the truth, it makes me squeamish to count such things, though, because it makes me feel like I am patting myself on the back and congratulating myself on what a good little white person I am. That said, I realize I need to be more aware. The main thing I plan to do in 2017 is purchase books by non-white authors, so I can vote with my dollar and tell publishers what kind of books I want to see them publish. Except for books by favorite authors, when it comes to white authors I’ll probably start using the library more frequently. As much as I’d love to BUY ALL THE BOOKS, I have too many unread books right now to justify buying more unless the purchase makes a meaningful statement in some way. Given the recently announced Simon & Schuster decision to give a book contract to a white supremacist, I think voting with our wallets is more important than ever.

Only four of the books I read got two-star ratings: Siracusa by Delia Ephron, The Kind Worth Killing by Peter Swanson, We Are Not Ourselves by Matthew Thomas, and Empire of the Summer Moon by S.C. Gwynne. Siracusa and The Kind Worth Killing were on a lot of people’s favorites lists, but for me they both fell flat. The characters in both novels were unlikable and two-dimensional, and their motives were dumb. Still, I have to give credit where it’s due: The Kind Worth Killing had a very tightly plotted pace that kept me turning pages almost against my will. We Are Not Ourselves started out strong but quickly became a drag, as it has one of the most insufferable protagonists…and it started to get sloppy. At one point late in the novel, a main character suddenly has a sister, even though early in the novel it’s explained that he only has a brother. And Empire of the Summer Moon, a non-fiction account of the Comanche in Texas that won the Pulitzer, was shocking because it’s written from a very solid, Western, Christian, thank-goodness-the-whites-came point of view. I stopped at page 61, but up to that point the pages are flagged and underlined and marked with my notes exhorting my disbelief. Check out this little nugget: “This the fateful clash between settlers from the culture of Aristotle, St. Paul, Da Vinci, Luther, and Newton and aboriginal horsemen from the buffalo plains happened as though in a time warp–as though the former were looking back thousands of years at premoral, pre-christian, low-barbarian versions of themselves.” Because morality did not exist until Christians, y’all.

My other biggest disappointments were This Must Be the Place by Maggie O’Farrell and the third novel in the Elena Ferrante trilogy, Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay. This Must Be the Place barely escaped getting a two-star rating from me because it also had an implausible situation at its core and dull characters. I loved The Hand That First Held Mine so much, I had been looking forward to this one since it was announced. And with the Ferrante, I’m not sure what happened. My Brilliant Friend was breathtaking, but the longer the story went on in the third novel, the more it felt like listening to a friend who has a creep of a partner who makes her miserable but whom she refuses to leave. However, the books are interesting from a sociological standpoint, and Ferrante is very good at putting a reader right in the moment without succumbing to melodrama.

In other sort of bookish news, I finally finished The Gilmore Girls, including A Year in the Life. I’m not going to give away any hints about the ending, but I will say I found it kind of disappointing. Seasons 2-4 remain my favorite, and ultimately my favorite character will always be Emily.

I’ll be back soon with a look forward at all the bookish plans I have for 2017. Happy New Year to you all!

Favorite Books of 2016

Today’s Top Ten (hosted by The Broke and the Bookish) asks us to list our ten favorite books of 2016. When I sat down to write this post, I learned that Carrie Fisher had died. I had been telling myself all morning to start focusing on small things, like reading and writing and blogging and yoga, and not to think too much about the headlines or about all the things that currently make everything seem somewhat useless or hopeless. This year has been a very tough one, not just for much of the world but for a lot of people very close to me, but up to November I at least thought that we would all get past it. But like a lot of you out there, I feel that since November 8 that the world has tilted. I cannot seem to get over the shock I feel that so much of America is filled with hatred, that so many people willingly believe fake news and that science is equal to nothing more than mere opinion. For the first time ever, I fear the future. I also realize how weirdly lucky I am to have the luxury of that fear. I have lived through a great time of mostly peace and progress and prosperity. Like a lot of people, I assumed the world would more or less continue that way. Not anymore. And now in less than three days, the passing of two more icons. I mean, what the hell?

That said, 2016 really did have one big bright spot for me, and that was reading. I slowed down a bit after November, but at that point I was only two books away from my goal of reading 50 books this year. As of today, I’ve read 54, and I may finish another two before the year is out. I don’t have any fancy graphics and I didn’t write reviews for most of these, but these were the books that made the best impression on me in 2016:

Commonwealth, Ann Patchett. For those of us who like stories about families and all their quirks and foibles. I plan to re-read this one in 2017. That’s how much I liked it.

The Turner House, Angela Flournoy. I read this family drama about a group of grown children grappling with what to do about their Detroit family home right after finishing Commonwealth, and I found it every bit as engaging.

Mr. Splitfoot, Samantha Hunt. I had no idea what to expect from this strange and wonderful novel. The ending vexed me but overall the story was so original and engrossing I knew it would have to be on this list.

Behold the Dreamers, Imbolo Mbue. This novel about a Cameroonian family trying to make a go of life in New York just prior to the Lehman Brothers melt down and the national financial crisis that followed isn’t exactly an uplifting tale, but Mbue is such a good writer and her characters were so wonderful this one was hard to put down. She’s such a confident writer, it’s hard to believe this is a debut (same goes for Flournoy, actually).

The Underground Railroad, Colson Whitehead. I wish I could press this book into the hands of every American. I wish that books really could change minds and make people more empathetic.

All My Puny Sorrows, Miriam Toews. You might not think you would laugh out loud reading a book about a woman trying to keep her sister from committing suicide, but you would be wrong. This touching, funny, smart book about our obligations to family and ourselves is absolutely terrific.

The Girls, Emma Cline. I keep going back and forth on this one, trying to decide if it’s overrated and I drank the KoolAid or if it really is that good. I think the fact that I read it in July and I am still thinking about it in December probably says more than anything.

Angle of Repose, Wallace Stegner. Enter this in the “Why did I wait so long to read this?” category. This classic, beautiful family saga was my most favorite book this year, and another I plan to re-read sooner rather than later.

The Rules of Civility, Amor Towles. I am just a sucker for a New York tale, and I read a lot of them this year, but this one was my absolute favorite.

The Orphan Master’s Son, Adam Johnson. This harrowing tale about an orphan in North Korea has stuck in my brain, almost as though it were a documentary of things that have actually happened. Most certainly, it shows what humans are able to to endure.

You can see the full list of everything I read this year here.

What was your favorite book of 2016?

Top Ten Books on My Holiday Wishlist

For this week’s Top Ten (hosted by The Broke and The Bookish), we’re asked to list the top ten books we’d like to receive for the holidays. Hm. Seems like this topic should have come around in November when people were putting together their shopping lists. I rarely receive books as gifts, so this list is probably more like what I’ll buy myself if I get a gift card, but why quibble? It’s still a gift, from me, to me.

Sweetbitter, by Stephanie Danler. Everyone’s saying all the good things about this one. I am number 140 on the library waiting list. I don’t want to wait!

Let Me Tell You, Shirley Jackson. I have had a sudden urge to read all things Shirley Jackson. I’ve only read We Have Always Lived in the Castle (and of course “The Lottery,” in school). This seemed like an interesting second choice.

News of the World, Paulette Jiles. National Book Award Finalist. Western. You do the math.

Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk, Legs McNeil. You would never know it to look at me, but I love punk rock. For a music lover, I don’t do a lot of reading about music. I wouldn’t mind starting here.

A Gentleman in Moscow, Amor Towles. I loved Rules of Civility so much, and everyone has had nothing but good things to say about this one. Number 52 on library hold list. See, “Do not want to wait.”

The Summer That Melted Everything, Tiffany McDaniel. Sounds like such gothic, twisty fun.

Here Comes the Sun, Nicole Y. Dennis-Benn. This novel about Jamaica has been on everybody’s best-of lists this year.

Nobody’s Fool/Everybody’s Fool, Richard Russo. I love Richard Russo and I plan to re-read Empire Falls this year. For some new Russo, I’d love to knock these out. Love his writing.

Novels, 1930-1942: Dance Night / Come Back to Sorrento / Turn, Magic Wheel / Angels on Toast / A Time to Be Born, Dawn Powell. Powell is a writer I have long been meaning to read. It would be great to start with this collection of some of her best works.

How about you? What’s on your wishlist?

Top Ten Tuesday: Best New-to-Me Authors in 2016

I feel terrible that I have been so bad at talking about what I am reading on the blog, because this really has been a terrific year in reading. I’ve been thinking about my favorite reads of the year, and many of them are by debut authors or authors whose works I hadn’t read before. Today’s Top Ten (hosted by The Broke and the Bookish) topic, favorite new-to-me authors, gives me a chance to highlight some of the works that may (or may not) make my final 2016 top ten list, but that I loved and would highly recommend anyway.

The Throwback Special, Chris Bachelder. Nominated for a National Book Award, this novel comprised of a series of vignettes of a group of 22 men who meet every year to reenact a famous football play is both funny and melancholy.

The Orphan Master’s Son, Adam Johnson. This story of a North Korean orphan who goes to work (putting it mildly) for the state was completely haunting. Deservedly, it won the Pulitzer in 2013.

The Girls, Emma Cline. Every year there’s a much hyped debut release that splits audience opinions right down the middle. This novel, centered around a plot based on a series of killings similar to the Manson murders and the girls involved, worked for me on many levels. I think Cline will be a writer to watch.

All My Puny Sorrows, Miriam Toews. I was all about solid family stories this year, and this one, about a writer trying to keep her sister from ending her life, was as solid, funny, and heartbreaking as they come.

The Fortunes, Peter Ho Davies. Focused on four different periods in American history, Ho tells the story of four Chinese Americans and their families, highlighting the immigrant experience. I happened to be reading this one (which was also nominated for the National Book Award, incidentally) during the election, and it made me sad and afraid all over again.

Our Endless Numbered Days, Claire Fuller. A chilling story of a girl abducted by her father, who tells her the world has ended and carries her away into the woods.

Crow Lake, Mary Lawson. This quiet novel about a group of siblings who lose their parents and try to keep the family together really surprised me. The narrator is unreliable in a completely unexpected, almost refreshing way, and what I expected to be a dark and depressing story is actually rather touching and funny.

Rules of Civility, Amor Towles. I’m a sucker for almost any story about WASPs in New York (sorry, not sorry), but this one is particularly well told. Katey Kontent is a first-generation American who hails from Brooklyn and gets swept up by high-society friends. Part F. Scott Fitzgerald, part Dominick Dunne, this one was difficult to put down.

Head Full of Ghosts, Paul Tremblay. This novel tells the story of a family with a daughter believed to be possessed by the devil who agree to have everything filmed by a reality television crew. The pop-culture references and the sharp style are both big hooks. Even people who don’t typically read horror would enjoy this.

The Nest, Cynthia D’Aprix Sweeney. Each member of The Plumb family (WASP: check; New York: check) expects to get a piece of “The Nest,” the family trust fund left behind by their eccentric father. But one sibling has an accident that requires all the money from The Nest to bail him out. This is the story of what happens when all the money’s gone.

Ten Books on My Fall TBR (Or, Getting My Diversity On)

Today’s Top Ten Tuesday (hosted by The Broke and the Bookish) asks us about books on our Fall TBR. I’ve had a particularly good reading experience so far this year. I haven’t been following any kind of plan. Typically a book pops into my head when I’m getting closer to the end of my current book, and that’s the one I pick up next. But sometimes, when we just follow our whims, we get caught in a rut. The kind of rut I’m talking about isn’t the kind where you don’t know what to read next and nothing satisfies. I’m talking about the exact opposite kind of rut—the kind that’s so easy, you never really think about getting out. It’s like having spaghetti for dinner every night (well, if you like spaghetti. I do. A lot.). It’s nutritious enough, satisfying, tasty. But probably you need a little variation, and you could pump up the nutrition a bit and still eat something yummy. Okay, enough with the food metaphors.

Basically, I had a pretty sad realization. When it comes to reading women authors, I do just fine. I’ve read 42 books so far this year, and 21 of them were by women (not counting the book I’m currently reading, which is also by a woman). But the diversity stops there. I’ve picked up exactly TWO books by by authors who aren’t white (Marlon James, Louise Erdrich). I have plenty of books on my TBR by non-white authors, so I have no excuse, really. Some of my choices were driven by picking up new books from authors I really like (Bonnie Nadzam, Megan Abbott, Maggie O’Farrell, Liz Moore, Ann Patchett). Some of my choices were driven by the fact that I like a good campus novel (The Headmaster’s Wife, The Pursuit of Cool, A Dual Inheritance). Some were driven by my desire to finally try and finish a series (The Story of a New Name and Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay…Too much Ferrante for me all at once; I did not make it to book four). Some things, too many to mention, were just on sale, and some were physical books that have been sitting on my shelf for way too long.

So. Excuses, excuses. This needs to remedied. We all know I’m not great at reading from a list, but here are my top ten diverse reads for the fall, all picked from my current TBR or books I already own:

Your Heart Is a Muscle the Size of a Fist, Sunil Yapa
The Underground Railroad, Colson Whitehead
Between the World and Me, Ta-Nehisi Coates (I own this one)
Family Matters, Rohinton Mistry
The Turner House, Angela Flournoy (own this one)
Behold the Dreamers, Imbolo Mbue
Homegoing, Yaa Gyasi
Slumberland, Paul Beatty (I know The Sellout is big this year and up for the Booker, but I own Slumberland already)
Long Division, Kiese Layman (another one I own)
The Thief, Fuminori Nakamura (and another one I own)

I’m excited about all of these books, otherwise they wouldn’t be on my shelf/Kindle/TBR list. I know this list hardly makes a dent, and so many groups/nationalities aren’t even included. The thing is, it’s so easy not to pay attention, to pick up what everyone else is reading, to follow favorite authors, to stay in that comfy zone. Is this racism? I think probably it is. Not the kind that comes from a place of hatred or intentional exclusion, but certainly the insidious kind that comes from being very comfortable with seeing much of what you already know in the world reflected back at you and never thinking much about it. Time for me to wake up and fix it. This is a start.

Freestyle Friday: September 23, 2016

Oh, hi there. It’s been a while. Thought I’d just drop by and talk about books for a bit.

I just finished Commonwealth by Ann Patchett this week. I never wanted it to end and I am sorely tempted to read it again right away. I’ve read everything Patchett has published, and I believe this is her very best work. I tend to prefer her fiction more than her non-fiction, mainly because I find her sort of insufferable, but in a likable way. She tries to be self-effacing, but she’s so very privileged and talented (and she works hard) that she comes across as the world’s most inept practitioner of the humble brag. Anyway, that’s not really the point. The point is she has managed to write a family saga that never gets caught up in the misery of dysfunction. The Cousins and the Keatings (and the blended family that results) certainly have their share of weirdness and anger and tragedy, but in Patchett’s tale, they just come across as people brought together by the accident of birth or marriage who somehow learn to co-exist with each other (or the idea of each other) and to have respect, if not love, for each other. I like that she doesn’t play anger or estrangement or grief to the hilt, but instead just lets them be natural reactions to circumstances where those reactions are not necessarily overblown. I’m almost hoping that this book sets up a new model for family dramas. The other surprise about Commonwealth is that it’s funny—and laugh-out-loud funny at times. Oh, I miss it already.

So I mentioned I thought this was Patchett’s best book, so for transparency’s sake, here’s my full list in order from best to pretty good (because let’s face it, nothing she writes is bad):

Commonwealth
State of Wonder
Bel Canto
Truth & Beauty
The Getaway Car: A Practical Memoir about Writing and Life
The Patron Saint of Liars
The Magician’s Assistant
Run
This Is the Story of a Happy Marriage (which also contains The Getaway Car)
Taft

Another writer I found insufferable recently (although not in a charming way) was Ottessa Mosfegh. Her interview in The Guardian rubbed me the wrong way. As a matter of fact, I had Eileen on my TBR, but I removed it after reading the interview. The thing is, writers don’t have to be likable. They can be downright unlikable and still be great writers. But I felt like she was insulting her readers, if indirectly, and also other writers, and that doesn’t really work for me. She doesn’t have to do blog book tours or kiss up to anyone, but maybe keep quiet about her contempt. The way I see it is this: plenty of other books on the shelf—plenty of other really good books that were maybe thisclose to being nominated for literary prizes, and Eileen got their spot. I think I’ll read those books instead.

I just started reading All My Puny Sorrows by Miriam Toews. We leave for vacation in Amsterdam next Thursday, so I hope to finish that before we go. Of course, that leaves me with the dilemma of what to read on the plane. Last year I tried to listen to audio books. BIG mistake. I fell asleep and missed most everything, so this year I’m sticking with my Kindle. Possible selections are Sara Taylor’s The Shore and Amor Towles’s The Rules of Civility. I always buy a couple of books at The American Book Center to read on the trip hoe and as a souvenir. This year I’ve got my eye on Tana French’s The Trespasser, but the other one’s a wild card. Maybe Colson Whitehead’s The Underground Railroad or Amor Towles’s new one, A Gentleman in Moscow.

I haven’t written in so long, I don’t know if anyone’s still out there…If you are, what’s your favorite Ann Patchett novel? And do you ever decide not to read a book because the author rubs you the wrong way?

Happy Friday, everyone. Enjoy!

Ten Books I Picked up on a Whim (Or Every Book I Ever Picked Up, Ever)

The thing about being a reader who has a (mostly neglected) book blog and a Twitter account where I follow all sorts of bookish accounts (book bloggers, critics, authors, publishers) is that it’s very, very difficult to avoid being influenced in some way when it comes to what I read. Everything on my TBR is something I’ve seen recommended somewhere else, however fleeting the recommendation might be. But almost everything I buy or pick up next is based on a whim (well, a whim based on a list). I rarely plan or schedule or commit (as evidenced by the blog) to anything except the very few authors whose books I will pre-order without question (Alice Munro, Tana French, Donna Tartt, and so on and so forth), and even the arrival of one of these titles doesn’t guarantee it will be my automatic choice for what to read next. Couple this tendency with my willingness to set any book aside that doesn’t grip me at the moment, and you can see, whim is where I live.

Let’s face it: I’m a freewheeling reader. Perhaps I should consider changing the blog name.

Instead of listing every book on my shelf (because that would be way more than 10), for today’s Top Ten Tuesday (hosted by The Broke and the Bookish), I thought I’d list the last ten books I bought, and the reason why (if I can remember it). Here goes:

Late One Night, Lee Martin. You may or may not have heard me sing the praises of Martin’s Pulitzer-nominated novel, The Bright Forever. Martin has a way with quiet moments in small-town America that renders them both universal and unforgettable.

Mongrels, Stephen Graham Jones. Okay, I’m not even going to pretend that horror is up my alley, or that I’m very well-versed in werewolf tales much beyond An American Werewolf in London. I read Jones’s Not for Nothing back in 2014, and let’s just say he has a way with story that makes me think this will be one of those genre-busting books for hardcore horror and literary fiction fans alike.

Mr. Splitfoot, Samantha Hunt. It was on my TBR, and it was on sale for $2.99 on Kindle. That said, I don’t purchase every book on my TBR that comes up for sale, and I have to say this one was going to end up in my hands one way or another. It just sounds too deliciously unusual to ignore.

Wilde Lake, Laura Lippman. I have at least three unread Laura Lippman titles that I could have picked up to read, but instead I had to have Wilde Lake. Why? I read an interview where she mentioned that someone at a reading asked a question about her choice to write the book in alternating first and third person. I’ve been thinking a lot about novelistic structure lately and was so intrigued I felt like I had to read it. Right. Now. So I bought it and I read it and I still don’t know the answer to that question….but this is probably the best Lippman I’ve read, maybe ever.

Into the Darkest Corner, Elizabeth Haynes. One of you told me to check out Elizabeth Haynes. It was Wendy at Musings of a Bookish Kitty, as a matter of fact! And this one was on sale and occasionally I do what I am told, so I bought it and will be checking it out. Eventually.

The Round House, Louise Erdrich. I have been meaning to read this book for ages. Every time I read an interview with her, I am left with the feeling that I want to read all of her books. Maybe someday I will.

The Circular Staircase, Mary Roberts Rinehart. Sarah Waters said this was one of her influences for writing The Little Stranger. Oh, when are we getting new Sarah Waters?

During the Reign of the Queen of Persia, Joan Chase. Okay, rare instance where I cannot remember where I heard about a book, but it was one of those “I have to have this NOW” purchases through Better World Books. And of course I haven’t read it yet, but I hope to, very soon.

Wild Life, Molly Gloss. Because I loved The Jump-Off Creek, and also was interested in reading more books set in the American West just after I finished Wallace Stegner’s Angle of Repose.

The Last Child, John Hart. Um…I can’t remember why I bought this. Another used purchase from Better World Books. I have three of Hart’s titles on my TBR wishlist, so I picked one at random. Ta DAH!

So there you have it. What about you: do you plan your purchases? Is reading on a whim unusual for you?

The Evening Reader

Thoughts on books to read in your spare time…