It has definitely been a while since my last post. It's going to be even longer now, because Blogger changed itself since I last blogged and hid the Save button and I lost about an hour's worth of writing when I clicked off the page to go grab a link. Ugh. I promise you, whatever I wrote the first time was funnier and more interesting. Unless you like this, in which case that draft was trash.
I had almost no desire to write this year. Work was hell, there were some family and health challenges, and so my creativity came out wordlessly in the form of embroidery, knitting, making postcards, and cooking. The one big thing I did in 2021 that I haven't done in years was read. The last few years, I've read maybe a dozen books a year. In 2021, I read 35 (And if you add the halves of the two books I haven't finished, you could say 36, but you probably wouldn't because a Barack Obama-Jenny Lawson mashup would be a headache-inducing acid trip of a read, stylistically speaking).
So, without further ado (there was further ado in the first draft, but Lord knows what it was), here is my reading list. Hopefully, you'll be inspired to check out some of these, because there was great reading on this list.
Poetry (Count: 5)
The only single-author poetry book I read was the wonderful What Mothers Withold by Elizabeth Kropf. Beth brings insight and courage to the subject of motherhood, even the parts that (as the title says) we don't talk about. The other books I read were anthologies and journals in which either I or someone I know had work published. I really enjoyed discovering treasures in Visions International #101, Waco Wordfest Anthology 2019 (lol, yep, I'm a few years behind in my book stack), Right Hand Pointing, and Animal Tales 2021.
Fiction (Count: 13)
The Winter of the Witch by Katherine Arden. Book 3 was fireworks at midnight--the heart-stopping explosion of plot and character at the end of a marvelous trilogy. I love the Winternight books, especially the setting in medieval Russia. The author (who studied Russian in Russia) paints such a vivid picture that you find yourself shivering under the covers and imagining the howls of wolves.
Kudrun was part of a very short-lived project of rereading all of the sagas and myths on my bookshelf. It's a very old Germanic legend surrounding a queen and the wars and vendettas among her suitors. My brain was already working pretty hard with everything else going on in my life, so I abandoned the sagas and myths and turned to easier reading after Kudrun.
The Witch's Heart by Genevieve Gornichec. I loved this book, set in the Norse mythology. It really humanizes the witch and the gods and "heart" is not a metaphor. The characters are wonderful as is the storytelling and pacing. Unfortunately, I read it early in the year, and my brain cells exceeded Max Capacity long ago, so I'll have to go back and re-read it in a year or so to fix what I loved about it into my brain better. But, I remember being so impressed with the author's ability to humanize mythological monsters.
The Vine Witch, The Glamorist, and The Conjurer by Louanne G. Smith. This is a great fantasy trilogy, as you can tell because I read all three of them back-to-back. The setting (an alternate reality early 20th century France) was novel and well described, and I loved the three, strong-willed gutsy women working together (sometimes) to triumph over supernatural enemies and French bureaucracy.
Management Styles of the Supreme Beings by Tom Holt. This was a re-read. After quoting the book so often to the kids, I finally decided it was a sign that I needed to just read it myself. I love his quirky humor and spot-on insights.
The Pleasure of My Company by Steve Martin. Yes, that Steve Martin. This is his second novella. We took a family road trip to New Orleans this year. We had an hour wait to get breakfast at The Ruby Slipper and spent that time in the second-hand bookstore next door. It was a super old, super cool bookstore and even had a resident tabby cat. This is one of the books we got there. I love this story and its compassionate, warm portrait of a quirky man whose OCD lands him in a lot of strange situations before it leads to a happy ending.
The Magicians by Lev Grossman. It's been highly recommended for years, but...I resisted because how could a book about young wizards at a special school NOT be derivative of Harry Potter? It was, however, very much its own book. The magicians in question are young adults (college age), and that changes the dynamic. And, in a way, it is a book about falling into books. I enjoyed it more than I thought I would, but not so much that I've read the sequels.
Daughters of the Witching Hill by Mary Sharrat. I almost never read historical fiction. I like history. I like fiction. And I like peanut butter and ketchup, too, but not on the same sandwich. It bugs me immensely to not know what is true and what is fiction. In this case, though, the setting was so remote, that it was actually fairly clear what was real and what probably wasn't. It was a story based on a very early witch hunt in England, and it really brings to life the poverty and challenges of life in rural England in 1612 and how a family on the margins of society got swept up into it (and, ultimately, killed). I really enjoyed this book. I picked it up in the Recycled Reads bookstore in Denton when we took Eleanor to college.
The Last Gift by Abdulrazak Gurnah. When Gurnah won the 2021 Nobel Prize for literature, I decided to read one of his novels and chose this one. This story of family secrets and relationships was quiet and beautifully written and explores the immigrant experience in England. The gift, by the way, is the stories that the mother and father had never told their children about their lives and struggles.
The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart by Holly Ringland. This book is set in Australia and centers on the women of a family known for raising Australian flowers and creating their own language of meanings for them (like Victorians did for flowers in England). It's a beautiful book, and also a hard one, because the protagonist and her family suffer greatly, but, ultimately, she finds healing.
Philosophers' Dogs by Samuel Dodson. I believe in reading and supporting indie creatives whenever possible. Somewhere in a Reddit thread I got into a conversation with a fellow Redditor who used the British crowdfunding publisher Unbound to raise the money to publish this book. It sounded like a cool book, so I contributed and got my copy this month. It's a whimsical book that actually does a great job demonstrating various philosopher's views through the perspective of their dogs. I enjoyed it, and I'm glad I got to help someone's book baby get birthed.
Nonfiction (Count: 7)
Love Without Reason: The Lost Art of Giving a F*ck by LaRayia Gaston. I heard an interview with the author and immediately read the book. She experienced at a young age the joy of feeding the homeless and eventually built a successful charity (Lunch on Me) that provides healthy, tasty meals to the homeless in Los Angeles (i.e., giving a f*ck and feeding people what you'd eat yourself, instead of expired processed foods). It's kind of a memoir, but not really. She uses her personal experience to provide lessons, so I put it in non-fiction.
Seven Fallen Feathers by Tanya Talaga. This was a beautifully written account of the evils of the Canadian system of boarding schools for young First Nations students. Essentially, teens would be sent often hundreds of miles from their remote communities to live with foster families and attend high school, and the lack of care or supervision (along with endemic racism) often led to tragic consequences. The seven feathers are seven young people who went missing over a period of two decades and the fight for justice (or even for the court system to acknowledge justice was needed).
Madhouse at the End of the Earth by Julian Sancton. Because, who doesn't love a true story that reads like a post-apocalyptic nightmare? Basically, some dudes who had no business sailing a ship somehow convince people who have no clue about exploration to fund an expedition to the South Pole. Spoiler alert: it failed. Spectacularly. Horribly. Fatally. The title is not actually metaphorical.
Chernobyl by Serhii Plokhy. Since history had proven gruesomely fascinating, I moved right on to this one. Needless to say, I did not see the miniseries, because I don't have the attention span for miniseries. But the book was a good read. It was disappointing how well I related to an account of the failure of Communist bureaucracy, though. A bunch of smart people doing short-sighted things to avoid looking bad to the Politburo? Lol, yep.
The World that Made New Orleans by Ned Sublette and Down in New Orleans by William Norris. These were background reading for our trip to New Orleans, and they gave me a number of interesting factoids to impress the kids with during the long drive. Or at least to impress myself. I may have been the only one listening to me.
Karma Cola by Gita Mehta. This was another pick from the used bookstore in New Orleans. Her essays on Western appropriation of Indian culture and religion (and the sometimes tragic effects of that on both Indians and Westerners) was interesting. Her writing style was not easy for me to enjoy, though.
Healing Ourselves by Shamini Jain. I heard an interview (different podcast!) with the author and was intrigued. It was interesting to read about academic research on subjects like prayer healing, reiki, etc., as well as her perspective on how much the placebo effect really matters.
Memoir (Count: 10)
Hill Women by Cassie Chambers. I had really enjoyed reading Educated, so I wanted to read other memoirs that gave me a glimpse into other lives. The fact that the Amazon reviews were so polarized reflects poorly on our country. Almost everyone who gave it one star did so because she "ruined" the book by discussing her politics at the end. Since the book was an account of her growing up and how she came to want to be a public servant...it makes sense that she talks about her politics. And, folks, seriously, it was like 20 pages. If you can't listen to someone talk politely about their own beliefs for 20 pages, just because you have different ones, you deserve one star, not the author. The book itself was interesting and insightful, and she treats her subject (Appalachia and Appalachians) with compassion and respect.
I Am a Girl from Africa by Elizabeth Nyamayaro. The author nearly died of starvation as a child and was rescued by an "angel in blue," who turned out to be a United Nations aid worker. This encounter fueled her determination to work for the UN and save others. She overcame ridiculous obstacles to do so, thanks to luck, brains, and raw grit. She tells her story beautifully and definitely non-linearly, weaving her own experiences in with the lives of people she met around the world in her work for the UN. It is a beautiful and inspiring book.
Walking America by Jake Sansing. The author is a military vet who discovered long-distance walking as a way of managing his PTSD. The book is not about his PTSD or his mental struggles, but about the people and places he encountered as he crisscrossed the country on foot. He well and truly roughed it, but he also encountered much kindness from strangers along the way.
Adventures in Morocco, Dodging Elephants, and Morocco to Timbuktu by Alice Morrison. I discovered the Armchair Adventurer podcast this year. The host presents first-person accounts from modern-day adventurers, and they are usually so compelling that I go read the adventurer's book(s)--because most of them do have a book. I really enjoyed Scotswoman Alice Morrison's quirky humor and observation and deep respect for Africa and Africans. In these books, she talks about her 8,000 km bike race lengthwise down Africa (the Tour d'Afrique), her participation in a marathon in the literal Sahara Desert (Marathon des Sables), and various hiking expeditions across her adopted home of Morocco.
Mission Possible by Ash Dykes. Another Armchair Explorer adventurer. This guy decided to walk alone and unsupported across Mongolia, which includes both mountains and deserts. It was quite an adventure, and, frankly, a miracle that he survived.
Tracking Gobi Grizzlies by Douglas Chadwick. The author is a biologist specializing in bears and he writes about his trips to Mongolia to study the rarest bear on the planet. I really enjoyed his account. Of course, he, too, was on Armchair Explorer. I really can't be trusted to listen to those episodes...
Pedalling to Kailash by Grayson Hazenberg. Wait, another tale of exploration by a young adventurer? Was this person perchance on Armchair Explorer? Perchance he was. This was an interesting story because it took place back in the 90s when such a trip cycling through Pakistan and such locales was actually possible for five Westerners. Even then, it was a little sketchy, and it required some daring night cycling to avoid being tossed in a Chinese prison.
Unchained by Rubina Soorty. Believe it or not, Ruby did not appear on Armchair Explorer. However, by this point, Amazon's marketing algorithms have discovered a pattern in my recent purchases and recommended this book often enough that I read it. Ruby promised her dying mother to take her ashes on her bicycling trip around the world. And she did, traveling solo in some dodgy places (Iran, anyone?). She was in some very dangerous situations and managed to survive through luck, good people, and (at one point) a motor escort, only to be attacked at machete point in Costa Rica. She escaped and finished her trip in Panama.
So, there you have it--2021 in books. I definitely enjoyed escaping into other lives this year. Hopefully, I can keep up the reading momentum in 2022...but maybe start writing, too.
