WHAT UP 2012 I read 43 books during you. 44 if I stop looking at hilarious gifsets on Tumblr before midnight. But really. What're the chances THAT'S gonna happen. 40something books isn't a lot. But I was DOING shit. Like watching Xena . 28 of these books were by ladies. Nine were by gay ladies. Which is...actually less than I thought. GOOD JOB FAILING, SELF (I blame me not liking Jeanette Winterson). Wilkie Collins was a relatively unknown man at the beginning of this year. Nor did I have a definite idea on how gross the ending of Grapes of Wrath is (so gross). I didn't know about the genius of Vampire Academy , or the fact that Rainbow Rowell can write anything and I will read it. All I knew about Alison Bechdel was the Bechdel Test, I had no idea A.S. Byatt wrote anything I'd like other than Possession , I studiously ignored Agatha Christie, and John Stephens was but a random name to me rather than the author of the completely kickass Books of Beginning
A GIF-filled romp through the forests of books and nerdery.