I had a lot of things I needed to do this evening, so naturally, I started making a list of all the books I would hypothetically buy for the starting library of any children I might one day have.
Everybody really liked my year in reading post, so now I’m thinking I should maybe write more about the books I read.
But I have this problem – because I read so much, people tend to go read the books I rate at five stars or say that I love, and then a lot of times they feel kind of annoyed because those books aren’t really good enough to justify their time. Here’s the thing: I read all the time, so I read everything. But if you have an actual life and so you read a normal amount, there might be a book that I really, really loved that still isn’t worth you reading it. Because if you read, say, five novels a year, then I’m going to recommend not just five novels I loved, but five novels that are (a) the best fucking novels of all time and (b) the sort of thing that you particularly with your taste, your interests, and your perspective are going to enjoy and appreciate.
So, I’m going to write about the books I read and what I think about them, but I’m also going to include a bit about who else should actually read them, if anybody.
Ok, so here’s what I’ve read this year so far:
Shit, I had some vague idea I might write this book one day, but it seems Jincy Willett has beaten me to the punch (and undoubtedly done a better job of it than I would have). Continue reading “I’ve Been Reading: Winner of the National Book Award“