I read The Round House by Louise Erdrich until it depressed the hell out of me. I mean, it’s really good, and I’m excited to pick it up again, but it really got me down (it doesn’t help that my day job is all about domestic & sexual violence and so this pick was not the best escapist reading).
I read the first 60 pages of The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt while sitting in a bookstore in Brooklyn. I am on a self-imposes spending freeze and it took all my will power to not 1.) spend the money & buy the book or 2.) Sit in that bookstore for the rest of the day to read the whole damn book. I’m pretty excited about this one. Maybe it will show up under the Christmas tree (maybe I’ll put it there myself).
I re-read Dare Me by Megan Abbott on my phone. This is a book that really blew my hair back. It’s got incredible ingredients: noir-ish cheerleaders, tightly knit and dysfunctional female friendships, a mysterious death, plus Abbott’s slick, tight prose. I read it twice, and liked it even more the 2nd time through.
I listened to The Wild Ones: A Sometimes Dismaying, Weirdly Reassuring Story About Looking at People Looking at Animals in America by Jon Mooallem on my 6 hour drive to and from Brooklyn. Super fascinating topic, funny, absurd stories, very nice narration. It’s a total winner as an audiobook.
I picked up The Isle of Youth by Laura van den Berg and read a bunch of the stories while riding the subway around NYC. This was supposed to be my break from the depressing Round House. It was definitely a switch in tone from the Erdrich, but van den Berg’s stories are not exactly cheerful - but they are delightfully strange, beautifully written, and full of emotion.
I stayed out super late on Friday night and had too much wine while hanging out with old friends. It was a fantastic night. Saturday morning did not feel fantastic, so I self-medicated by staying in bed and stealing Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban by J.K. Rowling off of my friend’s bookshelf. I read the whole thing, and by the time I turned the last page I felt much, much better.
While my saint of a husband (hi Rob Draw!) drove us back to Vermont, I started reading another Megan Abbott book, The End of Everything. This lady knows a thing or two about how brutal being best friends can be for girls. I’m totally engrossed.