Sometimes I sit at my computer in the morning, staring at the blank post screen and just think 'All right. Pick a topic.' Okay, I do that EVERY time I update. Because who's got time for planning, amirite? I'll plan a trip to Seattle a month out and come up with a spreadsheet itinerary, but when it comes to writing, BY THE SEAT OF MY PANTS I SHALL FLY.
It's basically halfway through the year. So how's it been going? Getting things read? Thank God for Goodreads, 'cause otherwise I would be lost in a sea of forgetfulness.
All right. Here's the dealie-o. I have read 35 books so far this year. It's not AMAZING but it's not shit, so no sass, thank you. Of those 35 (and we're counting Scott Pilgrim volumes as individual books even though they take half an hour and also are counting them as YA do not question me), 16 are YA. I feel OKAY about this. Because some are grownass lady books and sometimes you need a break from that, y'know? And also to read about MAGIC THINGS that don't involve real world adultness.
Of the 35, five have been non-fiction. Okay. So that's not great. But y'know what would have been worse? NO non-fiction. So compared to that I am more than infinity times better. Because of something I don't understand involving zero and multiplication.
I read that history of romantic friendship in literature AND my beloved Diana Victrix, which are still my favorite reads of the year (despite the former's horrible title of awfulness). Which led to me being able to smile knowingly/weirdly condescendingly when reading references to Lillian Faderman in an article on Urania, a British radical feminist magazine published from 1916 to 1940. Basically the area of lesbian studies in Victorian to Edwardian lit is UNSURPRISINGLY small and so the same academics' names crop up all the time and eventually you feel like you're reading The Baby-Sitters Club except with a lot more references to 'heteronormativity.' And also no babysitting.
And I read two Neil Gaimans I liked! I mean, they're both for children, but that's what he's good at writing. Coraline and The Graveyard Book are both excellent. American Gods and Stardust are not.
I'm in the middle of....let's count...15 books. Some of which I've been working on since January. Plus I have my 28 books checked out from the library but ALL WILL BE WELL I'M FINE DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT. Part of the reason I am so perilously close to the Chicago Public Library's checkout limit of 30 is that getting books from the library satisfies the shopper's urge, but it is free. I leave the library having acquired something and I didn't spend $15 that I could have very happily spent on Indian food (have I mentioned I love Indian food? I LOVE IT SO HARD).
We'll see how the rest of the year goes. I'm extremely close to beating the giant slump that was last year, but not so much to the first year I had this blog, when ZOOM went my reading, because everyone was recommending things and book blogs were new and exciting and one must keep up with the literary trends only not so much now because I am old and jaded.
It's basically halfway through the year. So how's it been going? Getting things read? Thank God for Goodreads, 'cause otherwise I would be lost in a sea of forgetfulness.
All right. Here's the dealie-o. I have read 35 books so far this year. It's not AMAZING but it's not shit, so no sass, thank you. Of those 35 (and we're counting Scott Pilgrim volumes as individual books even though they take half an hour and also are counting them as YA do not question me), 16 are YA. I feel OKAY about this. Because some are grownass lady books and sometimes you need a break from that, y'know? And also to read about MAGIC THINGS that don't involve real world adultness.
Of the 35, five have been non-fiction. Okay. So that's not great. But y'know what would have been worse? NO non-fiction. So compared to that I am more than infinity times better. Because of something I don't understand involving zero and multiplication.
I read that history of romantic friendship in literature AND my beloved Diana Victrix, which are still my favorite reads of the year (despite the former's horrible title of awfulness). Which led to me being able to smile knowingly/weirdly condescendingly when reading references to Lillian Faderman in an article on Urania, a British radical feminist magazine published from 1916 to 1940. Basically the area of lesbian studies in Victorian to Edwardian lit is UNSURPRISINGLY small and so the same academics' names crop up all the time and eventually you feel like you're reading The Baby-Sitters Club except with a lot more references to 'heteronormativity.' And also no babysitting.
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| I hope they interact like this |
And I read two Neil Gaimans I liked! I mean, they're both for children, but that's what he's good at writing. Coraline and The Graveyard Book are both excellent. American Gods and Stardust are not.
I'm in the middle of....let's count...15 books. Some of which I've been working on since January. Plus I have my 28 books checked out from the library but ALL WILL BE WELL I'M FINE DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT. Part of the reason I am so perilously close to the Chicago Public Library's checkout limit of 30 is that getting books from the library satisfies the shopper's urge, but it is free. I leave the library having acquired something and I didn't spend $15 that I could have very happily spent on Indian food (have I mentioned I love Indian food? I LOVE IT SO HARD).
We'll see how the rest of the year goes. I'm extremely close to beating the giant slump that was last year, but not so much to the first year I had this blog, when ZOOM went my reading, because everyone was recommending things and book blogs were new and exciting and one must keep up with the literary trends only not so much now because I am old and jaded.
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