Tracking Your Reading

I am a list-maker. I love to make lists and I love to cross things off. I have all kinds of ways to do this. I use Goodreads.com for my reading lists: my to-be-read (way too long for this lifetime), my current reads, and my past reads. I confess that checking things off can just as satisfying as actually completing them. Maybe that means I have a sickness of some kind. ;)

I have been thinking of using Book Riot's reading log this year as well. I mean, it's not like I don't have plenty of time at my computer right now. ;) 

There was also a great episode of What Should I Read Next about how people track their reading. I was listening to it while I was driving so I need to go back and give it a re-listen and take some notes to decide if I want to try any of those things. For now, though, Goodreads has been my way to go.

Recently I listened to My Life With Bob: Flawed Heroine Keeps Book of Books, Plot Ensues by Pamela Paul. I did this as an audiobook. (Side note: A lot of times when I'm listening to a book while I'm hiking, I associate certain spots on the trail with parts of the book. With this one, I know that when she was talking about the trip she and her sister took to Auschwitz, I was hiking toward Pryden Falls in the Paugussett State Forest in Newtown, CT.) This book is a memoir about Pamela's life growing up as a reader and becoming the editor of the New York Times Book Review. She talks about her childhood, her family life, and her travels through Europe and Asia before beginning her career in earnest. It was refreshing, honestly, to read about the ways it went wrong and almost went wrong, because I know that when I've traveled by myself there have been some moments that in hindsight I really could have handled better! I'm glad we both ended up ok!

But through all of this, she has kept the same fat notebook chronicling all of the books she's read. She talks about how she was so protective of it and what happened when a boyfriend wanted to write his reading in it too. (How about get your own?) And I'm jealous because I didn't keep such a notebook! I I've gone into Goodreads at times and recorded books I know I read before I started using it. Part of it was for the thrill of list-making and part was sort of for record-keeping. ;) There's no way I'm going to remember everything I read in middle school but also I know that I read every Babysitters Club Book as soon as it came out, so if I look at the pub dates that will be easy to find! I can pinpoint a lot of books down to what grade I was in. I have a terrible short-term memory but lots of things from when I was a kid have stayed in there. 

I give this book 5/5. I learned about it listening to the Well-Read Podcast. :) I also enjoy Pamela Paul's New York Times podcast!

Don't Overthink It

I was given the opportunity to read an advance copy of Don't Overthink It by Anne Bogel.

Anne is one of my favorite book podcasters (What Should I Read Next?) and has written three books now. Her third, Don't Overthink It, is a manual on how to break the cycle of ruminating on decisions that should be made instead of debated and debated and debated... At first I didn't really know if this book was for me, because I honestly can be very decisive. I didn't hesitate about getting a new cat when my beloved Mittens died, and then I didn't debate about getting my second boy; I just knew we needed to. When we found the apartment we live in, as soon as we toured it and found out that it was in our price range, I was good to go. When Matt suggests a vacation destination, I usually just agree because I want to go everywhere I haven't been, so I don't make pro/con lists. I just start trying to learn Norwegian or Hungarian.

But then I realized that it's not the big things I overthink. I get lost in the weeds on the little stuff. How should I phrase this email to a parent? Is this really the healthiest cat food for the boys? I can't go on that hike because I haven't printed the trail map yet and the printer is out of ink but the one I do have printed isn't where I want to go today because I don't want to drive all the way to that park so I lose 30 minutes deliberating and I'd already almost be there by now...

I know I need to meal prep but I can't make decisions on what to cook because I start getting lost in things like proteins verses carbs versus fats, and what's a good carb, and what's a good fat, and when the recipe calls for a sweet potato, how big should that potato be, exactly? And then I decide to put off the thinking until tomorrow and just order Chinese food.

Anne lays out strategies for freeing up your brain space and just making the choices. My favorite chapter is the one called "Small Shifts Toward Simple Abundance," in which she lays out the decision of whether or not to buy herself some flowers when she's grocery shopping at Trader Joe's. She goes on to talk about the little things that make life richer, like a small square of dark chocolate after dinner or writing with a high-quality pen. I'll admit that I already tend toward letting myself have the little things, so I agree with all of these sentiments! For me, it's not flowers; my little cat will eat them and poison himself. But it's books and yarn, for sure. I have to limit myself because I love to treat myself to that new best-seller that's all over Instagram or that gorgeous color combo I found at Michael's. I've learned to tame it down a bit by taking pictures with my phone of the books and yarns that I really like and revisiting them. If I read a bunch of the books I have in my house already and rehome them by June, then I can buy more books. If I finish a few of the projects I'm currently in the middle of, I will have space for new yarn.

Finally, something that I plan to write down and keep on my desk at work is this quote:

"We can be creators of justice, love, joy, compassion, and peace. But when we take a look at the world around us, it's clear that these things don't just happen; we have to think about them - and then act on those thoughts."

As a teacher, this is a very important statement to keep in mind.

Why is this book a book?

For the second year, I've taken on the Popsugar Reading Challenge. I've had a lot of fun finding things to fit the prompts. In another entry I'll talk about which books I chose and what's still left. I haven't only been reading books this year that fit the prompts, so there have been times I've had to get creative. I read Joshilyn Jackson's excellent novel Never Have I Ever, and I realized that it could fit into the "two books with the same title" prompt if I found another book with that title. It's a common enough phrase, so I did a search on my library's audiobook shelf, and I found Never Have I Ever: My Life (So Far) Without a Date by Katie Heaney.

And... why?

At least it was short enough. I was able to get through it in a few days, between my commute and a couple of hikes in the woods. But still. I would have given up on it, but I needed a book to fill this prompt and it was short and I'd already downloaded it. When it was short and I'd already downloaded it are the two biggest things a book has going for it... you know where this is going.

Katie Heaney wrote this book in her mid-twenties. She was 25 years old and claimed at the outset that she'd never, ever, been on a date. This was a bit of a truth-stretch because you will find in the book that she in fact had gone out a couple of times with a couple different guys. I don't know how she's defining date. In any case, she talked about how awkward she was. It was a lot of rambling pages about how she and her friends would group-text about the guys they liked and discuss the subtle nuances of what they said and whether those things meant anything. "If he texted me this, is that good?" The stuff my friends and I did in high school, but we had to do it in person or on the phone because group-texting wasn't invented in the early 90s. 

I get that sitting here at 40, as a person who has always had a lot of contempt for the whole charade of dating and the game-playing, I'm not the target audience. But still. I don't really understand who looked at this manuscript and thought it was interesting enough to publish as a book. 

And now, years later, we have the answer. The real reason Katie Heaney didn't connect with any of those guys she was trying to make herself like is that she's gay. She wrote this article for the New York Times that sums it up really well. In fact, her last sentence is something that could apply to all of those agonizing group texts from back in grad school. (Grad school! She was still doing this in grad school!) "If you have a question, and especially if you find yourself asking the same question for five years or more, chances are good you already know the answer."

According to her Instagram, she is now married to the woman she describes in the Times article, and I couldn't be happier for her. It does answer a lot of the weird agony in the book. However, it was good to get two prompts checked off. 

My review of the other Never Have I Ever will be up soon. If you don't want to wait for it... just read that one. Skip this one.

Gotta watch out for those elderly ladies...

An Elderly Lady is Up to No Good.

This tiny little hardcover with its perfect cross-stitch illustration immediately called to mind Sofia Petrillo. This is a book about a little old lady who kills people.

Maud is the last one left in her family; her parents and her sister died a long time ago, and she lives rent-free because of a loophole in the housing contract her father signed a lifetime ago. Maud may seem defenseless and vulnerable, but she has a very long memory and no tolerance for fools. She could be called a serial killer, technically, but she really doesn't do it because she's blood-thirsty. She just has no time for people who might be getting in her way.

This is a tiny little book that would be a perfect stocking-stuffer. It contains five short stories about Maud and her various justifiable murders. The idea of a sweet little old woman being a killer is the novelty that engages the reader, but Helen Tursten does a great job keeping the reader involved because of Maud's so unlikeable that she's likeable personality.

Other books about seniors citizens from Sweden (who don't kill people): A Man Called Ove and Britt-Marie was Here by Frederick Backman
Other Nordic Noir: The Snowman by Jo Nesbo 

It Only Hurts When I Breathe

"I don't know why I'm doing this to myself," I said to the man at the deli who saw me reading this book and remarked that he thought it was excellent. I mean, yes, it is, but that doesn't mean it wasn't hard to read.

One December evening, after visiting their daughter in the ICU, Joan Didion and her husband sit down to have dinner, and he suddenly dies. Right there at the kitchen table.

What follows in this book is Joan's journey through her grief. She doesn't go to support groups, she doesn't turn to religion. What she does do, without meaning to, is slip easily into denial quite often. John will be home soon. I can't donate John's shoes to charity; he'll need them when he gets home. She eagerly reads over the results of the autopsy. There is something about if I can just find out why this happened it can be undone. That's the magical thinking. He's not really dead. It's the disconnect from reality. If you don't accept the fact then you don't have to hurt because he's not actually gone.

My mother died when I was 21, but there was nothing sudden about it. She had a long, slow battle with breast cancer that spread. For a long time after that, it didn't seem real. I was there, physically there, holding her hand when she died. But I still sometimes expected her to come home. There were times I would forget for a second; a song would come on the radio and I'd think, "I'll have to tell her I heard this." Then I would remember. But that's not even what I'm talking about. There was also the magical thinking.

That whole year was an alternate reality. For months, I would hear, "I'm sorry about your mom." The first person to say it was my then-boyfriend's mother. I called him after everything calmed down from the spike of activity. I was alone in the room with her when she died. I'd told her it was OK to let go, and she did. And then I freaked out. My dad was at the pharmacy getting more pain medication and we'd never talked about what exactly to do at the moment it happened, and I lost my mind. I called 911, which was exactly the wrong thing to do. They swooped in and did CPR until my dad could produce the hospice paperwork stating that they shouldn't be doing that. One of my sisters noticed the neighbors all standing outside on our normally very quiet street, staring at the ambulance in the driveway, and she started yelling at them. "My mother just died! That's what happened! Go home now! Stop staring at us!" Dad calmly brought her back inside. I called my aunt and just said "She's gone." That's all I could choke out. Then I called my boyfriend because my aunt and I couldn't bear to stay on the phone; she called my grandmother. My boyfriend was at work, but his mother answered. When she said he wasn't home I just said it again. "She's gone." "Oh, Chrissy, I'm sorry."

I'd just started my job two weeks before. I took a week off for the services and the day I came back, people I had only seen once or twice were coming up to me. "I'm sorry about your mom." "I'm sorry about your mom." It would blindside me sometimes. I even heard it at a chiropractor appointment. I went to see a doctor because for some reason I was storing all my stress in my right shoulder. It was at the point where turning my head was painful, and for some reason I thought a chiropractor would help. After my appointment, I was paying the receptionist and she said, "I'm sorry about your mom." I said, "How did you--" "That lady who just went in after you is your sister's French teacher. She told me." Is it crazy that that enraged me? Because it enraged me, but I said thank you and left.

Everyone was well-meaning but it was so stressful. First of all, I really wanted to compartmentalize and not think about home at work. That wasn't happening. Also, nothing to be sorry for... because the whole thing just felt like a lie. When I would tell people my mother died, a voice in my mind would say, "No she didn't! Why are you saying that?"

This past fall I went to the Gilmore Girls Fan Festival in Kent, CT. One of the events was a screening of a film made by Edward Herrmann's daughter called Home. Edward Herrmann, known to all of us as Grandpa, died of brain cancer, and his daughter made a beautiful short film about magical thinking called Home. In it, a young woman can't accept her father's death to the point where she keeps looking for him and trying to call him. I told Emma after the film that I got it.

Mom died almost 19 years ago and I still look for her.

Home by Emma Herrmann:

Fixer-Upper, Moroccan Style

We just visited Fez, which is why I decided that I had to pick this book up when I saw it at The Book Barn. I love to read books that take place in cities or countries we'll be visiting. It helps me prepare for the trip.

My boyfriend first floated the idea of visiting Morocco in the winter. We've gone on a few vacations overseas before, but always to Europe, so the idea of going to Africa was really exciting. First we spent a week in Spain, then took a boat to Tangier, and a bus to Fez. I finished this book during our first couple of days in Spain, and left it in the hotel where we stayed in Cordoba on the communal book shelf.

Before setting foot in Fez, I will say that it was hard to picture exactly what this author was talking about. She and her husband are Australian journalists who spent time in Fez and found that they missed it so much when they got home that they decided to buy a house in the Medina and fix it up. This was basically like Fixer Upper, Morocco-style. If you like to read about home renovation but get bored when things seem to mostly go smoothly, this book will keep your attention.







They buy a house in the medina. Before we arrived at our hotel in the medina, I really didn't appreciate how complicated it really is.














The medina is truly a dizzying maze of dead-ends and cobblestones. Most of it is covered. Take ten steps in the wrong direction and you're hopelessly lost. Duck your head, go down this passage and through a door that looks like it will just lead to another dark lane, and suddenly you're in a gorgeous riad (a large house) that is covered in gorgeous tiled walls and serves as the carpet shop. Go down another road and you're in the middle of merchant stalls, where people sell everything from dates and figs, spices, shoes, bags, ceramics, jewelry, and fish and meats. We literally came face-to-face with camel heads. Just the heads, hanging there. Stray cats dart in and out between your feet. People yell out to you to buy this and that in Arabic, French, and English. It's overstimulating and claustrophobic. Thank God we hired a guide for a couple of hours; otherwise, we would still be lost in there. Since cars can't get in there, goods are brought in by donkey. On the morning we left, it was garbage day. A man was leading his donkey up the street with a huge box on its back, collecting garbage from people's front doors.

All of this is to say that it's really hard to imagine buying a riad here to remodel and bringing in all the building materials, but they really did, via donkey. Suzanne and her husband ran up against some cultural differences, including a plumber who shows up when he feels like it, layers and layers of bureaucracy, and language barriers. You get to know some of her employees, but I really wanted to know more about them. What kinds of homes did they live in? What were their lives like? I'm hoping she writes a sequel at some point.










Meanwhile, her husband Sandy maintains a blog, The View from Fez. Here you can keep up with some of their adventures.

The Sisterhood of the Traveling Books

Somewhere on Facebook a couple of months ago, I came across an interesting offer in one of my book groups. Fill out the Google form and you would be assigned to a group of four strangers. Each person in the group chooses a book to read and marks it up as he or she reads. Underline, annotate, draw little pictures, whatever you want. Finish it within a month and then mail it off to the person under you. In the end, you make notes in four books and read what the person or people who had it before you wrote, and finally you get your own book back so you can read what everyone else was thinking. It's like a real-world version of S by JJ Abrams and Doug Dorst.

I looked on my TBR shelf for something I'd been meaning to read and texted three titles out to the other members. Since everyone in the group had already read a book by Kate Morton, I settled on The Clockmaker's Daughter as my selection. I am ashamed that I finished it really late and set the group back a bit... We had a vacation in the way. I tried to finish it before we left but there was just no way.

Anyway, my marked-up copy of this book is wrapped in brown paper and will head to the post office tomorrow morning!

It was really fun to write in the book, if I'm being honest. I never do that, nor do I fold pages, nor do I set them down open in case I wreck the spines... so it felt like an act of rebellion. ;) The next book that I need to read for this project is The Bookshop on the Corner by Jenny Colgan, and I need to get started on that one ASAP!

The Clockmaker's Daughter is the story of Birdie, a young girl whose father leaves her behind in 1860s London to seek his fortune in America. He promises to send for her, but in the meantime, she ends up in the hands of some unscrupulous people. The book jumps around in time, including timelines in the 1940s and 2017. I will say that I would have liked to see more of the 2017 characters. The 1860s chapters were just a little repetitive for me. However, I would say that the tone of this book and the atmosphere that Kate Morton creates are just perfect. This book is exactly the right companion for curling up on a rainy day. It's partially a ghost story, it has elements of Oliver Twist, A Little Princess, and even Titanic. You'll see what I mean!

Pick this book up if you're in the mood for historical fiction, Victorian England, and a ghost story that isn't scary.

4/5 stars