Browsing Tag

Books

Everything I’ve Read in 2017 (So Far)

July 7, 2017

Checking in on my reading goal for the year. I hope to read at least 50 books in 2017, and so far I’m two ahead of schedule. Here’s what I loved, loathed, and meh-ed.

Imagine Wanting Only This • Kristen Radtke

The death of a beloved uncle triggers a fascination with ruins and hollowed out places in this graphic memoir. Luminous, melancholy, and unlike anything I’ve read before.

Scratch: Writers, Money, and the Art of Making a Living • Manjula Martin

A solid collection of essays and interviews about writing and commerce. It’s rare and refreshing to hear real talk about money, especially in my field, and I highly recommend this to other writers.

The Hate U Give • Angie Thomas

A young adult novel about a teenager drawn to activism after the police shooting of a close friend. This is the book everyone should be reading right now.

Difficult Women • Roxane Gay

These stories plunge the reader into the lives of very different women — two sisters haunted by a past crime, a stripper with a stalker, a black engineer in a small, Midwestern town, a woman who loves her husband’s identical twin. The women aren’t so difficult, after all; the world is.

81qveoZrPKL

A Separation • Katie Kitamura

A quiet thriller about a woman searching for her estranged husband, who has gone missing in a foreign country. I loved this book. I loved it as a character study, I loved it as a rumination on love, marriage, grief, and endings. I loved it because there’s not a lot of action, but the plot never felt empty.

The Rules Do Not Apply • Ariel Levy

I am such a fan of Ariel Levy’s writing in the New Yorker, and this memoir did not live up to my (admittedly very high) expectations. It felt like the entire book was constructed around Levy’s stunning and memorable Thanksgiving in Mongolia essay, which is fine — but I don’t think the narrator has lived the ending of her story yet.

Thirteen Reasons Why • Jay Asher

I read this one after I watched the TV show, because I was curious how Jay Asher wrote certain scenes. Unfortunately, already knowing every twist and surprise meant I didn’t find the book to be as compelling. Had I done it the other way around, it would be a different story.

The One-Eyed Man • Ron Currie

This novel follows K., a man transformed by grief after the death of his wife, who finds himself the hapless star of a reality TV show. It’s both timely and clever, and it brought to light some uncomfortable truths about the world. I read this with tears streaming down my cheeks, and they were inspired by an even split of laughter/heartbreak. (Though judging from the reviews, I think I felt more maternal and tender toward K. than most readers.)

In the Garden of Beasts • Erik Larson

Erik Larson is all about using precise research to weave a fascinating work of nonfiction that reads like fiction, and this book is no different. This story focuses on the American ambassador to Germany during the rise of the Third Reich, and his flamboyant daughter, who slept with everybody but Hitler. The book took a fascinating approach to a subject I thought I was already familiar with, but it was kind of like watching the Titanic crash in slow motion. I kept shouting, “Nooo!” at the page, but nobody listened to me.

51-Wsw1nB4L._SX322_BO1,204,203,200_

The Calculus Diaries: How Math Can Help You Lose Weight, Win in Vegas, and Survive a Zombie Apocalypse • Jennifer Ouellette

I read this when I wanted to employ some calculus theorems in one of my essays. Then I discovered the essay worked better without them. I finished this book anyway, which says a lot about the conversational voice and the author’s unique lens on calculus.

Underground Airlines • Ben H. Winters

The premise of this alt-history thriller is compelling: It’s the present-day world, and almost everything is the same. Except the Civil War never happened. The execution of this story is a little uneven at times, and I was more interested in learning more about the world Winters constructed than in solving the actual mystery at the heart of the book, but it’s definitely worth reading.

Dear Ijeawele, or a Feminist Manifesto in Fifteen Suggestions • Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Brief suggestions for raising a feminist child in a world that remains threatened by equality. This will be my go-to baby shower gift from now on.

Small Great Things • Jodi Picoult

I’m always suspicious when an author’s name is bigger than the actual title on a book cover, which is the case with Small Great Things, but I read this book anyway. I wish I hadn’t. It is tries so hard to be A Very Important Novel, in the same overwrought vein as A Very Special Episode of Growing Pains.

The Sun is Also a Star • Nicola Yoon

Teenage love between a Jamaican immigrant who is about to be deported and a first-generation Korean-American poet boy, plus fleeting looks at the other characters who cross their paths.

28763485

How to Get Filthy Rich in Rising Asia • Mohsin Hamid

This novel is written in the second-person in the style of a self-help book, so the structure is what initially attracted me. The exquisite prose made me stay.

A Country Between: Making a Home Where Both Sides of Jerusalem Collide • Stephanie Saldana

An American writer makes a home with her new husband on the dividing line between East and West Jerusalem. This is an empathetic and lovely memoir that makes me desperately want to visit the Middle East again — this time for an extended period.

Fun Home • Alison Bechdel

Ahh-mazing. Just read it.

Woman No. 17 • Edan Lepucki

An unsettling LA noir about a writer, a nanny, a boy, a bunny, and how their lives intertwine high in the Hollywood Hills. Every few pages I found myself pulling out a highlighter to preserve some of the most sumptuous passages — and by the end of the book I was highlighting every damn thing.

You Will Not Have My Hate • Antoine Leiris

Antoine Leiris is a French journalist whose wife was killed by terrorists at the Bataclan in Paris. His heartbreaking Facebook post inspired this slim tribute to the exceptional and enduring power of love. It feels both shockingly intimate and universal.

4175CtWuOmL._SX308_BO1,204,203,200_

Classical Chinese Poetry: An Anthology • David Hinton

A friend in book club loaned this one to me when I was looking for something lovely to read, and this did the trick.

Trespassing Across America: One Man’s Epic, Never-Done-Before (and Sort of Illegal) Hike Across the Heartland • Ken Ilgunas

This is the true story of a man who walks the entirety of the proposed Keystone XL pipeline — his goal is to have conversations about climate change, fossil fuels, and the oil industry with the people who will be directly affected by the pipeline. What’s really incredible about this book is that my staunchly conservative dad read it first, recommended it to me (<– not a conservative), and then we had a fairly reasonable discussion about climate change.

Today Will Be Different • Maria Semple

I have nothing to say.

Girl Waits With Gun • Amy Stewart

This is the book that helped me plow through the high-anxiety period around Inauguration Day, waking each morning at 3 a.m. with a racing heart and fretful mind. In those wee hours I turned to this sassy piece of historical fiction, in which one of America’s first female deputy sheriffs defended her family against the gang of bullies who threatened them. #Relevant

61IyGvFubXL._SX330_BO1,204,203,200_

What You Don’t Know • JoAnn Chaney

A story about a serial killer that’s violent, gripping, thrilling AND funny? JoAnn Chaney makes it happen. Bonus: Her female journalist character is spot-on.

The Sellout • Paul Beatty

Satire is so hard to get right, but this is masterful. Little wonder it won the Man Booker Prize.

Frankenstein • Mary Shelley

This was my first time actually reading Frankenstein, and I’m embarrassed it has taken so long. Turns out the story is nothing like I thought it would be, this book is breathtaking and gorgeous, and Hollywood’s version of Frankenstein’s monster is a lie.

The Wonder Trail: True Stories from Los Angeles to the End of the World • Steve Hely

I think I’d like Steve Hely very much if I met him at a hostel somewhere. Instead I met him on the pages of this book.

The Best Women’s Travel Writing, Vol. 11: True Stories From Around the World • Edited by Lavinia Spalding

This one is the sweetest one of all, because I’m in it! When I made my backpacking trip around the world, I carried a couple volumes of The Best Women’s Travel Writing with me. My wish was that someday I would have a story compelling enough to share and the ability to write it well. Seeing my own name inside this book was that dream realized.

I’m biased, but I think this is the very best book on my list.

61jfNZd2-pL._SX319_BO1,204,203,200_

 

This page contains affiliate links. All opinions are my own. 

2014: Favorite Reads

December 30, 2014

Yesterday I bemoaned the fact that there are too many “best-of” year-end lists. Then I went ahead and gave you my top songs of the year. Now one day later, here I am with another list.

Forgive me, okay? Because this is a list of books, and books are good.

My favorite book of the year, as signed by the author. *swoon*

My favorite book of the year, as signed by the author. *swoon*

 

The Empathy Exams • Leslie Jamison

By far, this book shined above all others this year. It’s a collection of essays, but it’s also a guide to being human: “Empathy comes from the Greek empatheia – em (into) and pathos (feeling) – a penetration, a kind of travel. It suggests you enter another person’s pain as you’d enter another country, through immigration and customs, border crossing by way of query: What grows where you are? What are the laws? What animals graze there?”

Read the title essay here. If it doesn’t move you, you’re dead to me.

 

Dept. of Speculation by Jenny Offill

This slender novel is the documentation of a marriage told in minimalist but exquisite bits of prose. It’s a story I imagine I’ll return to for years to come, and each time I’ll take away something different and special.

 

The Book With No Pictures • B.J. Novak

This book is brilliant. Just brilliant.

It’s a children’s book where the adult reader is forced to say a bunch of silly things, like “bluurf,” “blork,” and “my head is made of blueberry pizza.” So even while it’s engaging and fun, it cultivates a love of language and text for young, soon-to-be readers.

 

Gangsterland • Tod Goldberg

It’s always scary to read a book written by a friend, because what happens if you don’t like it? How do you hide something like that? Especially when you see this person all the time and you have zero poker face and you are me? Rather than lie every day to my friend Tod, I’d have to quit my job and move somewhere where he’d never find me — like Bolivia or Fresno.

So it was a relief to read “Gangsterland” and discover that I genuinely loved it. I don’t have to move to Fresno after all.

This is the story of a Chicago hit man who disappears after a botched job and resurfaces in Las Vegas with a new identity as Rabbi David Cohen. This is where money laundering suddenly meets morality, and the rabbi must learn to make peace with his career, all while fending for his family as best he can.

 

Yes, Please • Amy Poehler

I listened to this as an audiobook at the recommendation of my friend Leigh, and I’m so glad I did. Amy Poehler plays with the genre, inviting in a whole host of guest readers, giggling and singing through sections and speaking directly to the listener. Maybe this isn’t the most highbrow book on my list, but it was definitely the one I looked forward to most each morning.

 

Runners up:

Books I read and loved that weren’t published in 2014: The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt and A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki

 

 

Confessions of an Outlander addict

October 1, 2014

I will always remember this as the summer of big, life-changing things: I graduated with my Master of Fine Arts degree. I gave birth. And “Outlander” finally came to TV.

outlander2

 

“Outlander” is a series of books by Diana Gabaldon, about World War II nurse who falls through a magical circle of stones, lands in 18th century Scotland and discovers passion with a rugged Highlander. You know, that ol’ boy-meets-time-traveling-girl story.

As you can tell from the description, this series is full of awesome. The time travel adds a science fiction element, but it’s not about weird robots or anything. It has enough history to make you feel virtuous. And it’s a bodice ripper — literally, bodices are ripped — but all the books have a simple, classic design, so there’s no naked Fabio on the cover to give away your secrets. (It’s the literary equivalent of those Adam & Eve packages that arrive wrapped in plain brown paper, so your mail carrier won’t find out you’ve ordered dildos.) It’s basically the best of every genre.

Outlander

 

I’ve spent years waiting for this book to become a TV show (or movie — I’m not picky) and mentally casting the characters. YEARS. And it finally happened, thanks to the good people at Starz and my friend, Wendy, who lets me come to her house every week to watch it.

I purchased the first book in the series in 2010, when I was traveling around the world. I knew nothing about the story, only that Diana Gabaldon wrote freakishly long novels and that appealed to my backpacker’s budget. I had a great, big Kindle to fill and wanted the most pages for my buck.

“Outlander” quickly became my trusty travel companion. I was often lonely and sometimes bored, but “Outlander” always gave me a place to return.

In Bolivia, I spent some time volunteering at a monkey sanctuary. One of my fellow volunteers was, unfortunately, from Scotland. I mean, it’s terrific that he was Scottish. But it was unfortunate for him that he was forced to spend weeks listening to me yammer about Jacobite risings, Bonnie Prince Charlie, and Scottish time travel.

A lot of our conversations went like this:

ME: Have you ever fallen through the stones at Inverness?

HIM: Hmmm, let me think. No.

ME: Well, maybe you weren’t there on the right day.

HIM: I’ve never even been to Inverness.

ME: I don’t understand. Aren’t you Scottish?

Once some little Bolivian schoolgirls wanted to see my Kindle, and I showed them how to read books on the device. They squatted around me on the floor of a wooden house as I flicked from one page to another. Then a passage stood out, black and bold against the blue-grey light of the screen: “And I mean to hear ye groan like that again. And to moan and sob, even though you dinna wish to, for ye canna help it. I mean to make you sigh as though your heart would break, and scream with the wanting, and at last to cry out in my arms, and I shall know that I’ve served ye well.”

Oh my! I blushed furiously, even though the girls didn’t speak any English.

Oh my!

Cheeky Highlander

 

“Outlander” became my addiction. Every few weeks, whenever I reached a city with a decent wifi connection, I downloaded another book from the series. They sustained me throughout South America, every bit as much as chicha and salteñas.

In so many cold hostels, thousands of miles from home, dashing Highlander Jamie Fraser was by my side. While I rode in a rusted bus over dusty, pocked streets, jammed between sweaty farmers and clucking chickens, my mind was in the lush Scottish countryside. When a Bolivian woman peed on my backpack — no, “Outlander” did not help me with that. But afterward I did check into a real hotel with a bathtub, and I read “Outlander” while I soaked.

I read a lot during that backpacking year, and those books are now superimposed over my own experiences. It’s hard for me to think about the places I traveled without also remembering the characters and stories that joined me along the way. In the same way that an INXS song instantly transports me to my sophomore year homecoming dance, “Shantaram” takes me back to a steamy beach in Goa. Whenever I think about “The God of Small Things,” I’m once again curled under a filmy mosquito net in Rwanda. And Geoff Dyer doesn’t know it, but he joined me in a straw hut in rural Ethiopia. (I left him there too.)

I won’t say I’m the biggest “Outlander” fan out there or any kind of expert on the series. In fact, I’m not sure I retained even half the story — I realize now I must’ve done a lot of skimming in between the kilt-dropping scenes. But I’ll never forget how it felt to form a friendship with those books over sprawling months and endless roads. “Outlander” will always be intertwined with my South American memories, my coca fields forever filled with Scottish Highlanders. Those months were all monkeys and Machu Picchu and a time-traveling British nurse.

Now it’s part of my summer of big things too.

15 writing tips from Panio Gianopoulos

February 7, 2014

I’m such a sucker for craft talk, especially lists of writing tips. Oh, those adorable, bite-sized bits that promise to reinvent my prose! I can’t get enough. I gobble them like dumplings.

Unfortunately, those lists rarely stick with me. As easily digestible as the tips might be, they rarely give me any real narrative strategies or provide me with something that truly lasts. Or if they are substantial, the lists are so dense and overwhelming I can’t even think about applying the tips to my own writing.

The exception to this came a few months ago at my MFA residency. And it was a surprise too. Author, essayist and publisher Panio Gianopoulos gave a very thorough lecture about novellas — writing novellas, classic examples of novellas, the market for novellas.

This is the novella that Panio built.

 

Then POW! Out of no(vella)where, Panio ended his talk with his top 15 writing tips. Not just for novellas either. And he gave me permission to pass this list along to you.

So here you go. These tips are smart, practical and best of all, super helpful. Enjoy. And thank you, Panio!

Here’s Panio in a photo I illegally swiped off the internet. Photo credit: Molly Ringwald

 

1. Write toward discomfort.

Panio talked about this in the context of fiction, but this comes up a lot in my nonfiction classes as well. Proceed directly to the scary, uncomfortable place. That’s where all the feelings are.

2. Pursue the accidental. (Don’t learn to type real well.)

I don’t remember the example that Panio used here. It was something about how he mistyped a word, but it led him down a different, more interesting path with that sentence. Like when autocorrect invites your boss to a poop party instead of a pool party.

3. Things are usually half as funny as you think.

e.g. My poop party joke. (See: above)

4. Movement! Action! Things have to happen.

This is a good one. You wouldn’t believe how many short stories I’ve written where people just sit around a coffee shop, talking. Then sometimes they have sex.

5. The reader has to care about the protagonist. (They don’t have to LIKE the protagonist. They just have to have a reason to care.)

I can actually think of a lot of books in which I didn’t like the protagonist. For example, I didn’t want to become BFFs with Nick from “Gone Girl.” But I wanted to watch his transformation through the story, and that propelled me through the entire book.

6. It’s OK if you don’t write fast and sloppy first drafts.

This one is liberating. I’ve had so many writers tell me to dash off a quick, messy draft — “You can’t fix a blank page!” they chirp — so it’s refreshing to hear the opposite of that. I’m a person who labors over every word of my draft, and I fix sentences as I work. I’ve tried to overcome this by banging my work out on an old Royal typewriter — I don’t own White Out, and I don’t even know how to do a backspace on the damn thing, so it forces me to leave a messy draft on the page. I even took an online course called Fast Draft. Still, my writing is slow going. According to Panio, that’s OK.

7. Don’t overly discuss a first draft while writing it.

Oh, man. I’ve already killed one story by doing this. It was a rookie mistake — I was new to my MFA program, I was inspired by the great work happening around me, and I wanted to participate in the conversation too. Except, in the process of explaining my book idea to everyone, I strangled the story before it ever found a voice.

8. If you’re worried that it’s boring, it probably is.

Writing is transparent. When I really struggle with a piece and force myself to slog through it, then it reads like drudgery. And when I bore myself? That’s a good indication that readers will be bored too.

9. Title as soon as possible.

This is an interesting tip, and maybe it’s one of those chicken-egg debates. I’ve always thought that as a piece progresses, the work will present a title. But Panio believes having a title in hand will shape the piece in subtle ways. I’m sure it can work both ways.

10. Write two hours or 500 words a session, 5 times per week.

This. This works. I know because I’ve been trying to follow this plan ever since Panio shared it.

11. With feedback, ask your reader the right questions. For instance, what’s the story? What do you think happened? What do you take from this? 

This is another good tip, and it addresses something that is rarely discussed among writers: What exactly are we trying to get from workshop/feedback?

12. Separate publication from validation.

This might be the most difficult one of all. I have gotten better about squashing my envy when good things happen to my writing friends — there’s plenty of space on the bookshelf for everyone’s work, after all. But I’m still very hard on myself when my own essays are rejected, my pitches go unanswered, my work doesn’t get noticed. I assume I suck, and the whole world hates me, and I should become a professional barista already.

13. Beware: Research easily slips into procrastination.

Ah, the rabbit hole of the internet! I’ve lost many writing days to exploring the pop songs of Uganda and discovering how long it takes for a whale carcass to decompose on sand.

14. Read often. And while you’re reading, analyze and record what works.

My seventh-grade literature teacher, Kathi Russell-Rader, always said good readers make good writers. I’m not sure I believed her at the time, but I get it now. On the same note, I’m shocked when I meet writers who say they don’t read. That’s like a chef who doesn’t eat. It’s impossible to be competent in a field without some knowledge of it.

15. Support other writers.

This gets to one of my New Year’s Resolutions for Other People — to be a more active participant in my literary community. Buy more books, support more authors, encourage more reading among everyone.

Speaking of supporting other writers, why don’t you start with Panio? Read an excerpt of his book here.

 

Favorite books of 2012

December 26, 2012
Overall, this has been a great year for reading, right? I read so many good books in 2012, I had trouble paring them down for this list. (Sorry, Gone Girl. But you made so many other lists!)

I love that I have the luxury of reading again. When I worked for newspapers, it was a challenge to even read one book a month. I think I just got so full on words while I was at work — I was surrounded by websites, magazines, newspapers, Twitter feeds, etc. — the last thing I wanted to do was pick up a book when I got home.

Now that I am in grad school, though, I am required to read, and I relish every second of it. When I tuck myself on the couch for a few hours to consume a book, it feels like the biggest scam in the world. Turn off the phone! Tell the husband to be quiet! I’m doing my schoolwork! I only wish I would have gone back to school years ago.

Anyway, these were my favorite books this year. Keep in mind that not all of these books were published in 2012 — they were just books I happened to enjoy this year.

Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand — I resisted reading this for a long time, probably because my dad recommended it. But sometimes dear ol’ dad knows what he’s talking about.

This is the true story of a Southern California long distance runner who became an Olympian, then joined the military during World War II. That’s when this book starts to sound like fiction. Every time you think this guy’s story can’t get worse, it does. He and two of his crewmates survive a plane crash into the Pacific … and then they live on a life raft for 47 days … and then passing planes shoot and deflate the raft … and then they are captured by the Japanese. And it only gets worse from there. (I’m not spoiling anything, by the way. All of that happens in the introduction.)

Do they make people this tough anymore?

Treasure Island!!! by Sara Levine — No, not the swashbuckling classic. This is the story of a misguided 25-year-old woman who becomes obsessed with “Treasure Island” and uses it as a self-help book. It’s completely ridiculous, and the protagonist is completely unlikeable, but it’s completely funny.

And look — Sara Levine was a guest at my MFA program residency recently, and she signed my copy. (You’ll just have to read the book if you want to know what she means by “Steer the boat, girlfriend!”)

Columbine by Dave Cullen — I am downright awed by Cullen’s research. Yeah, I was a journalist for 13 years, but I’m not worthy enough to hold Cullen’s notebook. His work is amazing, and this is an important book. After the shooting in Newtown, it feels even more deeply profound.

Damascus by Joshua Mohr — A story about a San Francisco bar and its regulars — the misfits, the losers and the people who just want to be loved.

The Book of Jonas by Stephen Dau — A novel about a young Muslim boy who is saved by U.S. troops after his village is destroyed during an American military attack. The story is told in little patchwork pieces, sewn together into a meditation on the nature of trauma, memory and guilt. It’s a really beautiful and thoughtful book that poses many unanswerable questions. I read this many months ago, and I still think about it all the time.

The Sisters Brothers by Patrick DeWitt — Two words: Cowboy hitmen.

Undress Me in the Temple of Heaven by Susan Jane Gilman — Travel memoir is probably my favorite genre, and this is a good one. The author and a friend backpacked through China in 1986, just after the country opened for tourists. It’s an interesting look at a nation in transition. But it’s also a bizarre and funny story about choosing the wrong travel companion.

Wild by Cheryl Strayed — This is a story of a woman, a trail and learning to put one foot in front of the other after grief, regret and mistakes. It took me a long time to read this book, not because it was difficult or too long, but because so many of the passages were too beautiful to consume at once.

Also, I am a firm believer that hiking long distances can make your life better. See?

Daughter of Smoke and Bone by Laini Taylor — This is a young adult fantasy novel about an angel and a demon who fall in love. It sounds Twilight-y, but it’s really not. Taylor’s writing is stunning, and she invented a truly unique world with a brave, young female protagonist.

Beautiful Ruins by Jess Walter — I loved everything about this book. Walter created complex and flawed characters, and their stories intersect in the most bizarre, wonderful ways.

His descriptions of Cinque Terre were so vivid that when I was in Italy, I made a detour just to see the place for myself. It was worth it.

Shameless plug: If you’re in the Coachella Valley area, Jess Walter will be doing a reading/talk at my work! He’ll be at UCR Palm Desert at 6:30 p.m. Feb. 20 — and I can’t even begin to explain how excited I am about that. If you hear someone in the back of the room, shrieking as if she’s at a New Kids on the Block concert? That’ll be me. The event is free, but space is limited. RSVP here.