So, 2018 was kind of a weird year for reading. I mean, for me at least. Now that I think of it, 2018 was kind of a weird year in general. Or—after writing and deleting an entire paragraph explaining to you the particulars of my weird year—life itself is just kind of weird. There is moving and breaking and solidifying and climbing and plenty of other juicy action verbs. Really I’m just trying to think of a reasonable response to the question, “why did I read only half as many books in 2018 as I read in 2017?” Life, I guess.
And “why did I have so many more favorite books of 2017 than I do for 2018?” In 2017 I read, and loved, Her Body and Other Parties by Carmen Maria Machado, My Favorite Thing Is Monsters by Emil Ferris, All the Lives I Want by Alana Massey, andWhat It Means When a Man Falls From the Sky by Lesley Nneka Arimah among quite a few other recent favorites.
I thought, for a change of pace, I would talk about books I have read, my top five of the year. But no single five stand out as the best of the best this year. I read some great books, I’m just not ready to stake numbers in them. So, I’ll talk about books I’ve read this year, but in no particular order or ranking. Some of my favorites I won’t mention, some books I’ll only mention because I can think of something, right now, to say about them. And, while I’m changing the rules, I’ll also say I’m taking a break next week as it’s literally Christmas. And possibly the week after that as it’s New Year’s Day. (But also I have a great list brewing of self improvement books I want to read but have not, and probably will not, read, and what better time than the first of the year to post that?)
Anyway, enough intro. On to a random assortment of books I read this year.
My Boyfriend Is a Bear by Pamela Ribon, illustrated by Cat Farris
I was extremely skeptical of this book before reading it; it just looked too twee. But bear with me here because I loved My Boyfriend Is a Bear. It’s a romcom comic about relationships and pursuing whomever you love—even if it’s a bear. A fantastical premise, to be sure, but it frames a very bearlievable relationship. (Ok, I’ll stop.) It is funny, a little ridiculous, and almost unbearably sweet. The characters are relatable and the illustrations will make you paws and just enjoy the scenery. (Sorry not sorry. Let’s be honest. I’m featuring this because I wanted to show off my embearassing puns.)
The Great Believers by Rebecca Makkai
I kind of had to read this book (for the store’s quarterly newsletter). And I didn’t like it at first. Every other chapter focuses on one of two main characters: there is the timeline featuring Yale, a gay man living in 1980s Chicago, and the timeline featuring Fiona, a mother searching for her estranged daughter in 2015 Paris. And for a while these timelines were only vaguely connected and I didn’t understand their purpose. Then I got to the last few chapters, and I literally cried my way through to the end. Not small, delicate rivulets, but messy, noisy sobs. It is a rare book whose ending makes me love it all the more. This is one of those; it is poignant, surprising, tragic, and funny.
Betwixt-and-Between by Jenny Boully
This one took quite a while to read—about three months for fewer than 150 pages. It’s an essay collection ostensibly about writing but really about language and life in general. I picked it up because a coworker told me about an earlier book of hers, The Body, which is compiled of footnotes to a paper that doesn’t exist. This intrigued me, but not as much as a book about writing by the author of a book of footnotes. Since it took me so long to read, I thought I wasn’t really enjoying it, but I filled pages of my journal with quotes from it. So, I guess I liked it rather a lot. That journal is packed away now; you’ll just have to read it for yourself to see what I liked about it.
Drop the Ball by Tiffany Dufu
I not-so-secretly love self help-y business books—books that offer clear-cut steps and promise results. If you just do A, B, and C you will manage your time better and be more productive. Before listening to Drop the Ball I listened to a time management book that was not especially aware of its privilege (it was by a white lady who suggested getting a personal shopper to save time. . .). Dufu doesn’t have tricks or expensive “time savers.” Instead, she insists that the only way to be productive and stay sane is to let go of responsibility, to hand stuff off, to drop the ball and let it stay on the ground. For example, she once went months without opening a single piece of mail because she had handed off mail duties to her husband (who was working overseas at the time). She battled the anxiety of this massive mail pile by convincing herself it must not be hers, as she’d never let mail pile up like that. When her husband came home, the mail got taken care of. Dufu will remind you that no one is able to do all of the things all the time, and that’s ok.
Good and Mad by Rebecca Traister
Feminine rage is kind of in vogue right now, and I am skeptical of publishing trends. I worried that Traister’s book would be cathartic but ultimately empty. I worried it would focus only on white feminism. Fortunately, I was wrong on both accounts. Yes, it was cathartic. Yes, it is written by a white feminist. But Good and Mad is poignant, thoroughly researched, and aware of its privilege. It made me smarter; it made me angrier. It provided context for the current political situation, which I am constantly trying to understand. And it reminded me how much there is to learn about feminism, gender studies, and intersectionality. Also, it made me pick up the next book on my list.
Eloquent Rage by Brittney Cooper
More. Female. Rage. Brittney Cooper is such an incredible writer: intellectual and accessible. I started this as an audiobook, but there was too much I wanted to bracket so I had to go out and buy the book as well. And now I want to read Crunk Feminist Collection, which is a collection of essays written by the Crunk Feminist Collective, co-founded by Cooper. You know how some people are too smart for their own good? So smart that they’re socially awkward? Cooper is nothing like that; she’s obviously got a PhD and also she knows way more about hip hop than you. Eloquent Rage is a memoir and a manifesto. It shines a hard light on feminism, respectability politics, and life as a black woman in America. It’s not a voice we hear enough.
Currently Reading
Kid Gloves by Lucy Knisley
I love Lucy Knisley, with her clean lines and frank voice. I read her book Relish in about an hour, just ate it right up. I’m going a little slower with Kid Gloves. It’s all about Knisley’s pregnancy; so far the emotions of conceiving and early pregnancy are balanced by (sometimes extremely) discomfiting facts. Is it making me not want to have babies? Not quite, but there are a few drawings on the effects of pregnancy and… wow. Also, did you know one if four pregnancies ends in a miscarriage? I didn’t, but I feel like I should have. Anyway, Kid Gloves is fascinating and really scratching that baby book itch I seem to be experiencing lately (not mentioned above, but And Now We Have Everything by Meaghan O’Connell was another favorite of 2018).
Other Ways to Find Me On the Internets
Once a month (or so) I host a podcast called Drunk Booksellers where my best friend and I interview a fellow bookseller while drinking. I sometimes tweet about books and politics. I sometimes post pictures of books I’m reading, or cats I’m hanging out with on Instagram.
Subscribe to this newsletter here.