By the very fact that you’re here, you know that I write (yes, yes, not as much as I should, but I do try). The other side of that coin for me, as it is for most (probably all?) writers is that I am a compulsive reader. I’ve always been this way. As a child, I would read every opportunity I could get, and I especially hated that my mother wouldn’t let me read at the table. And now as an adult, I still do it. The backs of cereal boxes, random magazines in random doctors’ offices, fliers for things I have absolutely no interest in whatsoever, and of course books, oh, wonderful books. For a year after completing my graduate degree in English, I couldn’t read for fun. I couldn’t allow myself to simply fall into a good story and enjoy it. It was always about the analysis and the greater issues and never about the pure joy of reading. But after a year, I was able to shake that and return to that which led me to pursue Literature as a field of study in the first place. And now, as of the first of this year, I noticed a meme going around where people are trying to read 50 books in the year. And I thought, surely I typically read that many in a year…don’t I? I’ve never tracked the books I read (I use Goodreads only sporadically) and I figured it would be an interesting exercise to track and share what I’m reading with you, as I suspect there are many bibliophiles among you as well.
Here’s what I’ve finished so far:
1) Loving Frank by Nancy Horan: This one I didn’t love. Historical fiction is so hit or miss for me, and it’s typically more miss than hit. Although I enjoyed the interesting questions around women’s rights, I didn’t love any of the characters and felt that the book dragged on interminably. Anybody else read this and feel differently? I’d love to be persuaded otherwise.
2) Hold Love Strong by Matthew Aaron Goodman: This one I did love. I’m always a little concerned when a Caucasian writer attempts to write the story of a minority experience; however, I would like to imagine that Goodman’s own work and activism on behalf of the disenfranchised of New York might allow him some insight into poverty in the United States that most of us cannot possibly imagine. The main character, Abraham, is beautifully, compellingly written, and I loved him and all the other characters. A wonderful read in my estimation.
I’m onto my next one already, and I’ll keep you posted. In the meantime I would certainly enjoy hearing about what you’re reading, too, so do share.
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