Category Archives: Reading habits

Love Your Library, February 2025

Thanks, as always, to Elle for posting about her recent library reading!

Libraries are havens, whatever the circumstances. Coinciding with me on my volunteering days are an unhoused man who sits outside using the wifi on a laptop until opening time, a blind flower arranger, bus drivers on loo breaks, and an intellectually disabled man who repeats excellent catch phrases, all to do with Christmas. It’s a space available to all.

 

My library use over the last month:

(links to books not already reviewed on the blog)

READ

(& the children’s books pictured below)

 

CURRENTLY READING

  • The Black Bird Oracle by Deborah Harkness
  • Poetry Unbound: 50 Poems to Open Your World by Pádraig Ó Tuama
  • Long Island by Colm Tóibín (for book club)

CHECKED OUT, TO BE READ

  • Keep Love: 21 Truths for a Long-Lasting Relationship by Paul Brunson
  • Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus (to skim back through for Literary Wives)
  • The Forgotten Sense: The Nose and the Perception of Smell by Jonas Olofsson

 

IN THE RESERVATION QUEUE

  • Deep Cuts by Holly Brickley
  • Raising Hare by Chloe Dalton
  • I Want to Talk to You: And Other Conversations by Diana Evans
  • We Do Not Part by Han Kang
  • I Am Not a Tourist by Daisy J. Hung
  • Bookish: How Reading Shapes Our Lives by Lucy Mangan
  • When the Stammer Came to Stay by Maggie O’Farrell
  • The Leopard in My House: One Man’s Adventures in Cancerland by Mark Steel
  • Three Days in June by Anne Tyler
  • Time of the Child by Niall Williams

ON HOLD, TO BE PICKED UP

  • Autocracy, Inc. by Anne Applebaum
  • Old Soul by Susan Barker
  • Day by Michael Cunningham
  • The Meteorites: Encounters with Outer Space and Deep Time by Helen Gordon
  • Rebel Bodies: A Guide to the Gender Health Gap Revolution by Sarah Graham
  • Period Power by Maisie Hill
  • The Alternatives by Caoilinn Hughes

 

RETURNED UNFINISHED

  • Confessions by Catherine Airey ­– I actually read the first 160 pages and enjoyed the first section about Cora in New York City in the wake of 9/11, but once the focus moved to her aunts in Ireland in the 1970s I failed to see a point.
  • Unearthing: A Story of Tangled Love and Family Secrets by Kyo Maclear ­– I made it 50 or so pages into this last year but found it repetitive and elliptical. Dani Shapiro’s Inheritance, which tells quite a similar story (of finding out that the person the author always considered her father was not genetically related to her and that she was conceived by a sperm donor instead), was more engaging.

 

RETURNED UNREAD

  • Newborn: Running Away, Breaking from the Past, Building a New Family by Kerry Hudson – I’m not sure why I requested this given I wasn’t impressed with Lowborn.
  • Black Woods, Blue Sky by Eowyn Ivey – Requested off me; will try another time.
  • The Coast Road by Alan Murrin – I don’t have time to focus on it now but might get it back out later in the year.
  • No Filters: A Mother and Teenage Daughter Love Story by Christie Watson – The premise appealed to me but when I actually opened it up it looked scattered and lite.

What have you been reading or reviewing from the library recently?

Share a link to your own post in the comments. Feel free to use the above image. The hashtag is #LoveYourLibrary.

Book Serendipity, Mid-December 2024 to Mid-February 2025

I call it “Book Serendipity” when two or more books that I read at the same time or in quick succession have something in common – the more bizarre, the better. This is a regular feature of mine every couple of months. Because I usually have 20–30 books on the go at once, I suppose I’m more prone to such incidents. People frequently ask how I remember all of these coincidences. The answer is: I jot them down on scraps of paper or input them immediately into a file on my PC desktop; otherwise, they would flit away!

The following are in roughly chronological order.

 

  • The angel Ariel appears in Through a Glass Darkly by Jostein Gaarder and Constructing a Witch by Helen Ivory.
  • The protagonist’s surname is English in Wild Houses by Colin Barrett and The Cannibal Owl by Aaron Gwyn.

 

  • I read scenes of grief over a tree being cut down / falling next to one’s house in Dispersals by Jessica J. Lee and Small Rain by Garth Greenwell, one right after the other.

 

  • A mother who does kundalini yoga in All Fours by Miranda July and Unattached by Reannon Muth.
  • The idea that happiness (unlike anxiety and sorrow) leaves no trace in writing or in life appeared for me on the same day in Memorial Days by Geraldine Brooks and Small Rain by Garth Greenwell.

 

  • Someone considers suicide by falling but realizes that at the current height they would injure themself but not die in Wild Houses by Colin Barrett, The Snow Queen by Michael Cunningham, and The Courage Consort by Michel Faber.

 

  • The homosexual “bear” stereotype appears in The Snow Queen by Michael Cunningham and Small Rain by Garth Greenwell.
  • A William Blake epigraph in Open, Heaven by Seán Hewitt and one of the poems included in Poetry Unbound by Pádraig Ó Tuama.

 

  • A group biography including nine pen portraits (plus the author): Nine Minds by Daniel Tammet, followed in quick succession by Uneven by Sam Mills. (Similar, but with just seven subjects, is a book I’m currently reading about women’s religious conversions, Godstruck by Kelsey Osgood.)
  • A book–life serendipity moment: in All Fours by Miranda July there is mention of an elderly cat named Alfie who needs to be given medication several times a day. Snap!

 

  • By chance, I started reading Myself and Other Animals, a posthumous collection of short autobiographical pieces by Gerald Durrell, on his centenary (7 January 2025).

 

  • Guilt over destroying a bird’s nest in The Book of George by Kate Greathead and I’ll Come to You by Rebecca Kauffman.
  • The main female character has a birthmark in The Book of George by Kate Greathead and The Blindfold by Siri Hustvedt.

 

  • Reading two novels at the same time that open with a new family having to be found for a little boy because his mentally ill mother is presumed to have died by suicide: Unexpected Lessons in Love by Bernardine Bishop and Going Home by Tom Lamont.

 

  • The protagonist is mistaken for a two-year-old boy’s father in The Book of George by Kate Greathead and Going Home by Tom Lamont.

 

  • The mother is named Ellen in The Book of George by Kate Greathead and I’ll Come to You by Rebecca Kauffman.

 

  • An ailing elderly father named Vic in Going Home by Tom Lamont and The God of the Woods by Liz Moore.

 

  • A mother is sent to a mental hospital after the loss of her young son in Invisible by Paul Auster and The God of the Woods by Liz Moore.
  • A brother and sister share a New York City apartment in Invisible by Paul Auster and The Book of George by Kate Greathead.

 

  • A mention of the Japanese artist Hokusai in While the Earth Holds Its Breath by Helen Moat and The Secret Life of Snow by Giles Whittell.

 

  • Adults dressing up for Halloween in The Blindfold by Siri Hustvedt and I’ll Come to You by Rebecca Kauffman.

 

  • A second husband named Tim in Unexpected Lessons in Love by Bernardine Bishop and Because We Must by Tracy Youngblom.

 

  • The idea that ‘queers find each other’ in Edge of the World: An Anthology of Queer Travel Writing edited by Alden Jones and My Autobiography of Carson McCullers by Jenn Shapland.
  • Experiencing 9/11 as a freshman in college (just like me!) in Dirty Kitchen by Jill Damatac and The Book of George by Kate Greathead. (There is also a 9/11 section in Confessions by Catherine Airey.)

 

  • An intense poker game in I’ll Come to You by Rebecca Kauffman and Going Home by Tom Lamont.

 

  • The main character is expelled on false drug possession charges in Invisible by Paul Auster and Alligator Tears by Edgar Gomez.

 

  • Missing the chance to say goodbye before a father’s death, and a parent wondering aloud to their son whether they’ve been a good parent in The Book of George by Kate Greathead and The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro.

 

  • Someone departs suddenly, leaving her clothes and books behind, in Invisible by Paul Auster and My Autobiography of Carson McCullers by Jenn Shapland.

 

  • Mentions of DACA (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals, an Obama-era U.S. immigration policy) and “Two-Buck Chuck” (a nickname for the Charles Shaw bargain wine sold at Trader Joe’s) in Dirty Kitchen by Jill Damatac and Alligator Tears by Edgar Gomez.

 

  • A City Hall wedding in New York City in Baumgartner by Paul Auster and Dirty Kitchen by Jill Damatac.
  • Polish Jewish heritage and a parent who died of pancreatic cancer in Baumgartner by Paul Auster and The History of Love by Nicole Krauss.

 

  • In Because We Must by Tracy Youngblom, she reads The Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo aloud to her son while he is recovering in hospital. I was reading Despereaux at the same time! (Also, in real-life serendipity, Youngblom and I both have a sister named Trish.)
  • A code of 1–3 knocks is used in Confessions by Catherine Airey and The History of Love by Nicole Krauss.

 

  • A scene of a teacup breaking in Junction of Earth and Sky by Susan Buttenwieser and The Möbius Book by Catherine Lacey.

 

What’s the weirdest reading coincidence you’ve had lately?

Adventures in Rereading: The History of Love by Nicole Krauss for Valentine’s Day

Special Valentine’s edition. Every year I say I’m really not a Valentine’s Day person and yet manage a themed post featuring one or more books with “Love” or “Heart” in the title. This is the ninth year in a row, in fact – after 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023, and 2024!

Leopold Gursky is an octogenarian Holocaust survivor, locksmith and writer manqué; Alma Singer is a misfit teenager grieving her father. What connects them? A philosophical novel called The History of Love, lost for years before being published in Spanish. Alma’s late father saw it in a bookshop window in Buenos Aires and bought it for his love. They adored it so much they named their daughter after the heroine. Now his widow is translating it into English on commission for a covert client. Leo and Alma’s distinctive voices, wry but earnest, really make this sparkle. Alma’s sections are numbered fragments from a diary and there are also excerpts from the book within the book. My only critique would be that she sounds young for her age; her precocity makes her seem closer to 10 than 15. But her little brother Bird, who thinks he may be the messiah, is a delight. The array of New York City locales includes a life drawing class, a record office, and a Central Park bench. A gentle air of mystery circulates as we work out who Leo’s son is and how Alma tracks down the author. It’s a bittersweet story that insists on love as an equivalent to loss. Complex but accessible, bookish and heartfelt, it’s one to recommend to my book club in the future. (Little Free Library)

Finishing my reread during a coffee date in Hungerford this morning.

 

My original rating (2011):

When I first read this, I mostly considered it in comparison to Krauss’s former husband Jonathan Safran Foer’s work. (I’ve long since read everything by both of them.) I noted then that it

has a lot of elements in common with Everything is Illuminated, such as a preoccupation with Eastern European and Jewish ancestry, quirky methods of narration including multiple voices, and a sweet humour that lies alongside such heart-rending stories of family and loss that tears are never far from your eyes. Leo Gursky and Alma Singer are delightful and distinct characters. I wasn’t sure about the missing/plagiarized/mistaken The History of Love itself; the ruined copies, the different translations, the way the manuscript was constantly changing hands – all this was intriguing, but the book itself was a postmodern jumble of magic realism and pointless meanderings of thought.

Dang, I was harsh! But admirably pithy about the plot. It’s intriguing that I’ve successfully reread Krauss but failed with Foer when I attempted Everything is Illuminated again in 2020. Reading the first, 9/11-set section of Confessions by Catherine Airey, I’ve also been recalling his Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close and thinking it probably wouldn’t stand up to a reread either. I suspect I’d find it mawkish, especially with its child narrator. Alma evades that trap, perhaps by being that little bit older, though she sounds young because of how geeky and sheltered she is.

Love Your Library, January 2025

Thanks so much to ElleLaura, and Skai for joining in this month!

 

READ

All children’s books this time!

  • Every Wrinkle Has a Story by David Grossman – A sweet story about how experiences make us who we are, so ageing is a good thing.
  • Dexter Procter: The 10-Year-Old Doctor by Adam Kay – A fun if overlong book that will appeal to readers of Roald Dahl and David Walliams. It has bullying, a mystery and gross-out humour as well as some age-appropriate medical content.
  • Apple Grumble by Huw Lewis-Jones – There’s a grumpy apple. And that’s it.
  • Constance in Peril by Ben Manley – So cute! Edward finds his favourite doll, Constance Hardpenny, in a bin. She’s dressed like a Victorian spinster and each day for a week she suffers a new near-calamity (her blank doll eyes somehow still conveying her alarm), only to be saved by Edward’s big sister.
  • The Big Bad Bug by Kate Read – Nice to see invertebrates featured. The message is about selfishness.
  • Books Aren’t for Eating by Carlie Sorosiak – Starring a goat bookseller who learned to read books, not eat them, and passes on his enthusiasm to others. Other than the sudden ending, this was great.
  • The Planet in a Pickle Jar by Martin Stanev – Intricate drawings and a touch of folklore (the author is Bulgarian) in this story of a grandmother who preserves the natural world and wants her grandchildren to continue her good work.
  • Old Macdonald Had a Phone by Jeanne Willis – Updates the song for the tech age with a lesson that smartphones are useful tools but we mustn’t get addicted.
  • Grandad’s Camper & Grandad’s Pride by Harry Woodgate – A little girl learns about her grandfather’s activist past with his partner and initiates a Pride parade in their little town. /

CURRENTLY READING

  • Myself & Other Animals by Gerald Durrell
  • The Black Bird Oracle by Deborah Harkness
  • The God of the Woods by Liz Moore
  • Poetry Unbound: 50 Poems to Open Your World by Pádraig Ó Tuama

(+ the set-aside ones I mentioned last time)

 

CHECKED OUT, TO BE READ

(Everything from last time +)

  • Travels in the Scriptorium & Baumgartner by Paul Auster
  • The Coast Road by Alan Murrin
  • Half Arse Human by Leena Norms

IN THE RESERVATION QUEUE

(Everything from last time +)

  • Confessions by Catherine Airey
  • Deep Cuts by Holly Brickley
  • Bellies by Nicola Dinan
  • I Am Not a Tourist by Daisy J. Hung
  • Bookish: How Reading Shapes Our Lives by Lucy Mangan
  • When the Stammer Came to Stay by Maggie O’Farrell

 

ON HOLD, TO BE PICKED UP

  • Maurice and Maralyn: An Extraordinary True Story of Shipwreck, Survival and Love by Sophie Elmhirst
  • Black Woods, Blue Sky by Eowyn Ivey
  • The Forgotten Sense: The Nose and the Perception of Smell by Jonas Olofsson
  • Long Island by Colm Tóibín (for March book club)

 

RETURNED UNREAD

  • The Mischief Makers by Elisabeth Gifford – I’ve enjoyed one of her books before, and a different biographical novel about Daphne du Maurier, but this seemed very bland at first glance.

What have you been reading or reviewing from the library recently?

Share a link to your own post in the comments. Feel free to use the above image. The hashtag is #LoveYourLibrary.

Reading Snapshot for Mid-January

As I said in my last post, I’m in the middle of a bunch of books but hardly finishing anything, so consider this another placeholder until my Love Your Library and January releases posts next week. People often ask how I read so much. One of the answers is that I generally read 20–30 books at once, bouncing between them as the mood takes me and making steady progress in most. A frequent follow-up question is how I keep so many books straight in my head. I maintain a variety of genres and topics in the stack and alternate between fiction, nonfiction and poetry in any reading session. If I’m going to be reviewing something, particularly for pay, I tend to make notes. Here’s a peek at my current stacks, with a line or two on each book and why I’m reading it.

  • Myself & Other Animals by Gerald Durrell [public library] – This is a posthumous collection of excerpts from his published work, including newspaper articles, plus mini essays that he wrote towards an autobiography. We own/have read most of his animal-collecting and zoo-keeping memoirs and this is just as delightful, even in unconnected pieces. His conservationist zeal was ahead of his time.
  • The God of the Woods by Liz Moore [public library] – It’s rare for me to borrow something from the Crime section, but this came highly lauded by Laila. Set in upstate New York in 1975, it’s a page-turning missing-girl mystery with a literary focus on character backstory, and it’s reminding me of Bright Young Women by Jessica Knoll and When the Stars Go Dark by Paula McLain.
  • Gold by Elaine Feinstein [secondhand purchase] – I’ve enjoyed Feinstein’s poetry before so snapped this up on our second trip to Bridport. The first long poem was a monologue from the perspective of a collaborator of Mozart; I think I’ll engage more with the discrete poems to follow.
  • Understorey by Anna Chapman Parker [review copy] – Catching up on one I was sent last year. It’s a one-year diary through ‘weeds’ (wild plants!) she observes and sketches near her home of Berwick upon Tweed, where we vacationed in September. I am enjoying reading a few peaceful entries per sitting.
  • A God at the Door by Tishani Doshi [secondhand purchase] – Her Girls Are Coming out of the Woods was a favourite of mine a few years ago when I reviewed it for Wasafiri literary magazine. I found this on my last trip to Hay-on-Wye, and it is just as rich in long, forthright, feminist and political poems.
  • The Secret Life of Snow by Giles Whittell [secondhand purchase] – I picked up a few snowy titles when we got a dusting the other week, in case it was the only snow of the year. This is so much like The Snow Tourist by Charlie English it’s uncanny; to my memory it’s more meteorological, though still accessible. The science is interspersed with travels and fun trivia about Norway’s Olympic skiers and so on.
  • Moon of the Crusted Snow by Waubgeshig Rice [gift] – Probably my first book by an Indigenous Canadian, which was reason enough to read it. I’m about 50 pages in and so far it’s a plodding story of mysterious power outages which could just be part of the onset of winter but I suspect will turn out to be sinister and dystopian instead.
  • Knead to Know by Neil Buttery [review copy] – Another 2024 book to catch up on. It’s a history of baking via mini-essays on loads of different breads, cakes, pies and pastries, many of them traditional English ones that you will never have heard of but will now want to cram. Lots of intriguing titbits.
  • Invisible by Paul Auster [secondhand purchase] – Getting ready for Annabel’s second Paul Auster Reading Week in early February. A young (and Auster-like) would-be poet gets entangled with a thirtysomething professor who wants to fund a start-up literary magazine – and his French girlfriend. Highly readable and sure to get weirder.
  • While the Earth Holds Its Breath by Helen Moat [review copy] – Yet another 2024 book to catch up on. Authors are still jumping on the Wintering bandwagon. This is composed of short autobiographical pieces about winter walks near home or further afield, many of them samey; the trip to Lapland has been a highlight so far.
  • The Blindfold by Siri Hustvedt [review copy] – Also part of my preparation for Paul Auster Reading Week, and boy can you see his influence on her first novel! Iris Vegan is employed by Mr. Morning to record audio descriptions of relics left behind by a possibly murdered woman. Odd and enticing.
  • Uneven by Sam Mills [review copy] – A group biography of nine bisexuals – make that 10, as there’s plenty of memoir fragments from Mills, too. I’ve read the chapters on Oscar Wilde, Colette & Bessie Smith, and Marlene Dietrich so far. It is particularly enlightening to think of Wilde as bi rather than a closeted homosexual.
  • Unexpected Lessons in Love by Bernardine Bishop [secondhand purchase] – Every year I pick up at least a few “love” or “heart” titles in advance of Valentine’s Day. Bishop was one of my top discoveries last year (via The Street) and this Costa Award-nominated posthumous novel is equally engaging, even after just 50 pages.
  • My Judy Garland Life by Susie Boyt [secondhand purchase] – After Loved and Missed, I was keen to try more from Boyt and this Ackerley Prize-shortlisted memoir sounded fascinating. I love The Wizard of Oz as much as the next person. Boyt, however, is a Garland mega-fan and blends biography and memoir as she writes about addiction, mental health, celebrity and the search for love.

  • Poetry Unbound by Pádraig Ó Tuama [public library] – I’m gradually making my way through this set of 50 poems and his critical/personal responses to them. Most of the poets have been unfamiliar to me. Marie Howe has been my top discovery.
  • The Shutter of Snow by Emily Holmes Coleman [secondhand purchase] – Another incidental ‘snow’ title; this is autofiction about postpartum psychosis, written in a stream-of-consciousness style with no speech marks or apostrophes. It’s hard to believe it was written in the 1930s because it feels like it could have been yesterday.
  • Ravens in Winter by Bernd Heinrich [secondhand purchase] – I’ve long meant to read more by Heinrich, who’s better known in the USA, after Winter World. This was a lucky find at Regent Books in Wantage. It’s a granular scientific study of bird behaviour, so I will likely read it very slowly, maybe even over two winters.
  • The Book of George by Kate Greathead [review copy] – Linked short stories about an Everyman schmuck (and my exact contemporary) from adolescence up to today. He’s indecisive, lazy, an underachiever. Life keeps happening around him; will he make something happen? (George, c’est moi?) The deadpan tone is great.
  • Stowaway by Joe Shute [public library] – I’ve been reading this off and on since, er, June, which is not to say that it’s not interesting but that it’s never been a priority. Like his book on ravens, it’s intended to rehabilitate the reputation of a species often considered to be a pest. He gets pet rats, too!
  • The Black Bird Oracle by Deborah Harkness [public library] – It’s even rarer for me to borrow from the Science Fiction & Fantasy section of the library, but I’ve been following the series since A Discovery of Witches came out in 2011. I’m halfway through and enjoying Diana’s embrace of her witch heritage in the Salem area.

 

That’s not all, folks! There’s also the e-books.

  • Dirty Kitchen by Jill Damatac [Edelweiss] – I’ll be reviewing this May release early for Shelf Awareness. The author’s Filipino family were undocumented immigrants in the USA and as a child she was occasionally abandoned and frequently physically abused. Recipes and legends offer a break from the tough subject matter (reminiscent of Educated or What My Bones Know).
  • My Marriage Sabbatical by Leah Fisher [from publicist] – She Writes Press is a reliable source of women’s life writing. I’ve only just started this but will try to review it this month. Fisher, a psychotherapist, was sick of her psychiatrist husband’s workaholism and wanted to try living differently, starting with a house share.
  • I’ll Come to You by Rebecca Kauffman [from publicist] – Another American linked short story collection, moving month by month through 1995 (does that count as historical fiction?!), cycling through the members of an extended family as they navigate illnesses and fraught parenting journeys. I’m getting J. Ryan Stradal vibes.
  • Constructing a Witch by Helen Ivory [Edelweiss] – This feminist take on the historical persecution and stereotypes of witches is a good match for the Harkness! I just keep forgetting to open it up on my Kindle.

According to Goodreads, I’m reading 28 books at the moment, so I haven’t even covered all of them. (The rest include library books that would more honestly be classified as “set aside.”)

Whew. It somehow seems like even more when I write them all up like this…

Back to the reading!

Final Reading Statistics for 2024

Happy New Year! Even though we were out at neighbours’ until 2:45 a.m. (who are these party animals?!), I’m feeling bright-eyed and bushy-tailed today and looking forward to a special brunch at our favourite Newbury establishment. Despite all evidence to the contrary in the news – politically, environmentally, internationally – I’m choosing to be optimistic about what 2025 will hold. What hope I have comes from community and grassroots efforts.

In other good news, 2024 saw my highest reading total yet! (My usual average, as in 2019–21 and 2023, is 340.) Last year I challenged myself to read 350 books and I managed it easily, even though at one point in the middle of the year I was far behind and it didn’t look possible.

Reading a novella a day in November was certainly a major factor in meeting my goal. I also tend to prioritize poetry collections and novellas for my Shelf Awareness reviewing, and in general I consider it a bonus if a book is closer to 200 pages than 300+.

 

The statistics

Fiction: 51.4%

Nonfiction: 31.8% (similar to last year’s 31.2%)

Poetry: 16.8% (identical to last year!)

 

Female author: 67.9% (close to last year’s 69.7%)

Male author: 29.6%

Nonbinary author: 1.1%

Multiple genders (anthologies): 1.4%

 

BIPOC author: 18.4%

This has dropped a bit compared to previous years’ 22.4% (2023), 20.7% (2022), and 18.5% (2021). My aim will be to make it 25% or more.

 

LGBTQ: 21.6%

(Based on the author’s identity or a major theme in the work.) This has been increasing from 11.8% (2021), 8.8% (2022), and 18.2% (2023). I’m pleased!

 

Work in translation: 6%

I read only 21 books in translation last year, alas. This is an unfortunate drop from the previous year’s 10.6%. I do prefer to be closer to 10%, so I will need to make a conscious effort to borrow translated books and incorporate them in my challenges.

French (7)

German (4)

Norwegian (3)

Spanish (3)

Italian (1)

Latvian (1) – a new language for me to have read from

Swedish (1)

+ Misc. in a story anthology

 

2024 (or pre-release 2025) books: 52.3% (up from 44.7% last year)

Backlist: 47.7%

But a lot of that ‘backlist’ stuff was still from the 2020s; I only read five pre-1950 books, the oldest being Howards End and Kilmeny of the Orchard, both from 1910. I should definitely pick up something from the 19th century or earlier next year!

 

E-books: 32.1% (up from 27.4% last year)

Print books: 67.9%

I almost exclusively read e-books for BookBrowse, Foreword and Shelf Awareness reviews.

 

Rereads: 18

I doubled last year’s 9! I’m really happy with this 1.5/month average. Three of my rereads ended up being among my most memorable reading experiences for the year.

 

And, courtesy of Goodreads:

Average book length: 220 pages (in previous years it has been 217 and 225)

Average rating for 2024: 3.6 (identical to the last two years)

 

Where my books came from for the whole year, compared to 2023:

  • Free print or e-copy from publisher: 44.8% (↑1.3%)
  • Public library: 18.4% (↓5.7%)
  • Secondhand purchase: 11.5% (↑1.7%)
  • Free (giveaways, Little Free Library/free bookshop, from friends or neighbours): 9.8% (↑3.9%)
  • Downloaded from NetGalley, Edelweiss, BookSirens or Project Gutenberg: 8.8% (↑2%)
  • Gifts: 2.6% (↓1.5%)
  • New purchase (often at a bargain price; includes Kindle purchases): 2.1% (↓2.6%)
  • University library: 2% (↓1.2%)

So, like last year, nearly a quarter of my reading (24%) was from my own shelves. I’d like to make that more like a third to half, which would be better achieved by a reduction in the number of review copies rather than a drop in my library borrowing. It would also ensure that I read more backlist books.

 

What trends and changes did you see in your year’s reading?

Love Your Library, December 2024

Thanks so much to Eleanor, Jana and Naomi for writing about their recent library borrowing and reading! Marina Sofia also posted about marvellous library rooms and libraries with great views.

 

My library use over the last month:

READ

  • Interlunar by Margaret Atwood
  • Life before Man by Margaret Atwood
  • A Beginner’s Guide to Dying by Simon Boas
  • Small Rain by Garth Greenwell
  • Dispersals: On Plants, Borders and Belonging by Jessica J. Lee
  • Men Explain Things to Me by Rebecca Solnit
  • Nine Minds: Inner Lives on the Spectrum by Daniel Tammet
  • The Peculiar Life of a Lonely Postman by Denis Thériault
  • The Safekeep by Yael van der Wouden

 

SKIMMED

 CURRENTLY READING

  • Dexter Procter: The 10-Year-Old Doctor by Adam Kay
  • Poetry Unbound: 50 Poems to Open Your World by Pádraig Ó Tuama

 

CURRENTLY READING-ish (more accurately, set aside temporarily)

  • Death Valley by Melissa Broder
  • The Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo
  • Learning to Think: A Memoir about Faith, Demons, and the Courage to Ask Questions by Tracy King
  • Groundbreakers: The Return of Britain’s Wild Boar by Chantal Lyons
  • Unearthing: A Story of Tangled Love and Family Secrets by Kyo Maclear
  • Late Light: Finding Home in the West Country by Michael Malay
  • Mrs Gulliver by Valerie Martin
  • Stowaway: The Disreputable Exploits of the Rat by Joe Shute

 

CHECKED OUT, TO BE READ

  • The Painted Bird by Jerzy Kosinski
  • The Gate to Women’s Country by Sheri S. Tepper
  • Katherine Mansfield: A Secret Life by Claire Tomalin
  • The Doctor Stories by William Carlos Williams

IN THE RESERVATION QUEUE

Some 2025 books are on order now, hooray!

  • Old Soul by Susan Barker
  • Keep Love: 21 Truths for a Long-Lasting Relationship by Paul Brunson
  • Raising Hare by Chloe Dalton
  • Maurice and Maralyn: An Extraordinary True Story of Shipwreck, Survival and Love by Sophie Elmhirst
  • The Meteorites: Encounters with Outer Space and Deep Time by Helen Gordon
  • The Alternatives by Caoilinn Hughes
  • Newborn: Running Away, Breaking from the Past, Building a New Family by Kerry Hudson
  • Black Woods, Blue Sky by Eowyn Ivey
  • The Coast Road by Alan Murrin
  • The Forgotten Sense: The Nose and the Perception of Smell by Jonas Olofsson
  • The Leopard in My House: One Man’s Adventures in Cancerland by Mark Steel
  • Three Days in June by Anne Tyler
  • Time of the Child by Niall Williams

 

ON HOLD, TO BE PICKED UP

  • Myself and Other Animals by Gerald Durrell
  • The Mischief Makers by Elisabeth Gifford
  • The Black Bird Oracle by Deborah Harkness
  • The God of the Woods by Liz Moore

RETURNED UNREAD

  • The Second Coming by Garth Risk Hallberg
  • Bothy by Kat Hill

 

RETURNED UNFINISHED
  • The City and Its Uncertain Walls by Haruki Murakami – I read 80 pages but found it aimless and flat.
  • After Dark by Haruki Murakami – I couldn’t renew it for some reason. This is at least a nice short one, so I will go back to it once my hold comes in.

 

What have you been reading or reviewing from the library recently?

Share a link to your own post in the comments. Feel free to use the above image. The hashtag is #LoveYourLibrary.

Three on a Theme: Christmas Novellas I (Re-)Read This Year

I wasn’t sure I’d manage any holiday-appropriate reading this year, but thanks to their novella length I actually finished three, two in advance and one in a single sitting on the day itself. Two of these happen to be in translation: little slices of continental Christmas.

 

Twelve Nights by Urs Faes (2018; 2020)

[Translated from the German by Jamie Lee Searle]

In this Swiss novella, the Twelve Nights between Christmas and Epiphany are a time of mischief when good folk have to protect themselves from the tricks of evil spirits. Manfred has trekked back to his home valley hoping to make things right with his brother, Sebastian. They have been estranged for several decades – since Sebastian unexpectedly inherited the family farm and stole Manfred’s sweetheart, Minna. These perceived betrayals were met with a vengeful act of cruelty (but why oh why did it have to be against an animal?). At a snow-surrounded inn, Manfred convalesces and tries to summon the courage to show up at Sebastian’s door. At only 84 small-format pages, this is more of a short story. The setting and spare writing are appealing, as is the prospect of grace extended. But this was over before it began; it didn’t feel worth what I paid. Perhaps I would have been happier to encounter it in an anthology or a longer collection of Faes’s short fiction. (Secondhand – Hungerford Bookshop)

 

Through a Glass, Darkly by Jostein Gaarder (1993; 1998)

[Translated from the Norwegian by Elizabeth Rokkan]

On Christmas Day, Cecilia is mostly confined to bed, yet the preteen experiences the holiday through the sounds and smells of what’s happening downstairs. (What a cosy first page!)

Her father later carries her down to open her presents: skis, a toboggan, skates – her family has given her all she asked for even though everyone knows she won’t be doing sport again; there is no further treatment for her terminal cancer. That night, the angel Ariel appears to Cecilia and gets her thinking about the mysteries of life. He’s fascinated by memory and the temporary loss of consciousness that is sleep. How do these human processes work? “I wish I’d thought more about how it is to live,” Cecilia sighs, to which Ariel replies, “It’s never too late.” Weeks pass and Ariel engages Cecilia in dialogues and takes her on middle-of-the-night outdoor adventures, always getting her back before her parents get up to check on her. The book emphasizes the wonder of being alive: “You are an animal with the soul of an angel, Cecilia. In that way you’ve been given the best of both worlds.” This is very much a YA book and a little saccharine for me, but at least it was only 161 pages rather than the nearly 400 of Sophie’s World. (Secondhand – Community Furniture Project, Newbury)

 

Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan (2021)

I idly reread this while The Muppet Christmas Carol played in the background on a lazy, overfed Christmas evening.

It was an odd experience: having seen the big-screen adaptation just last month, the blow-by-blow was overly familiar to me and I saw Cillian Murphy and Emily Watson, if not the minor actors, in my mind’s eye. I realized fully just how faithful the screenplay is to the book. The film enhances not just the atmosphere but also the plot through the visuals. It takes what was so subtle in the book – blink-and-you’ll-miss-it – and makes it more obvious. Normally I might think it a shame to undermine the nuance, but in this case I was glad of it. Bill Furlong’s midlife angst and emotional journey, in particular, are emphasized in the film. It was probably a mistake to read this a third time within so short a span of time; it often takes me more like 5–10 years to appreciate a book anew. So I was back to my ‘nice little story’ reaction this time, but would still recommend this to you – book or film – if you haven’t yet experienced it. (Free at a West Berkshire Council recycling event)

Previous ratings: (2021 review); (2022 review)

My rating this time:

 

We hosted family for Christmas for the first time, which truly made me feel like a proper grown-up. It was stressful and chaotic but lovely and over all too soon. Here’s my lil’ book haul (but there was also a £50 book token, so I will buy many more!).

I hope everyone has been enjoying the holidays. I have various year-end posts in progress but of course the final Best-of list and statistics will have to wait until the turning of the year.

 

Coming up:

Sunday 29th: Best Backlist Reads of the Year

Monday 30th: Love Your Library & 2024 Reading Superlatives

Tuesday 31st: Best Books of 2024


Wednesday 1st: Final statistics on 2024’s reading

Reporting Back on My Most Anticipated Reads of 2024

Most years I’ve combined this topic with a rundown of my DNFs for the year; this time I can’t be bothered to list them. There have maybe not been as many as usual; generally, I’ve given a sentence or two about each DNF in a Love Your Library post. In any case, I hereby give you blanket permission to drop that book you’ve been struggling with. I absolve you of all potential guilt. It makes no difference if it has been nominated for or won a major prize, or if everyone else seems to love it. If for any reason a book isn’t connecting with you, move onto something else; you can always come back to try it another time, or not. Life is short.

So, on to those Most Anticipated books! In January, I picked the 12 new releases I was most looking forward to reading in 2024. Here’s how I fared with them – links are to my reviews:

 

Read and enjoyed: 5 (2 will appear on my Best-of list!)

 

Read and found somewhat disappointing (i.e., 3 stars or below): 5

 

DNF: 1

 

Haven’t managed to get hold of, but have basically decided against anyway: 1

  • Memory Piece by Lisa Ko – The reviews from Susan and Laura made me realize I probably won’t love this as much as I want to. (Plus the average rating on Goodreads is disconcertingly low.)

 

I’ve really come to wonder if designating a book as “Most Anticipated” is a kiss of death. Are my hopes so high that only the rare book can live up to them?!

Nonetheless, I can’t resist compiling this list each year. In the first week of January, I’ll be previewing my 25 Most Anticipated titles for the first half of 2025.

 

Do you choose Most Anticipated books each year? (Or do you prefer to be surprised?) And if so, do they generally meet your expectations?

Book Serendipity, November to December 2024

I call it “Book Serendipity” when two or more books that I read at the same time or in quick succession have something in common – the more bizarre, the better. This is a regular feature of mine every couple of months. Because I usually have 20–30 books on the go at once, I suppose I’m more prone to such incidents. People frequently ask how I remember all of these coincidences. The answer is: I jot them down on scraps of paper or input them immediately into a file on my PC desktop; otherwise, they would flit away! The following are in roughly chronological order.

  • Characters who were in a chess club and debating society in high school/college in Playground by Richard Powers and Intermezzo by Sally Rooney.
  • Pondering the point of a memorial and a mention of hiring mourners in Immemorial by Lauren Markham and Basket of Deplorables by Tom Rachman.

 

  • A mention of Rachel Carson, and her The Sea Around Us in particular, in Playground by Richard Powers, while I was also reading for review Rachel Carson and the Power of Queer Love by Lida Maxwell.

 

  • A character pretends to be asleep when someone comes into the room to check on them in Knulp by Hermann Hesse and Rental House by Weike Wang.
  • A mention of where a partner puts his pistachio shells in After the Rites and Sandwiches by Kathy Pimlott and Rental House by Weike Wang.

 

  • A character who startles very easily (in the last two cases because of PTSD) in Life before Man by Margaret Atwood, A History of Sound by Ben Shattuck, and Disconnected by Eleanor Vincent.

 

  • The husband is named Nate in Life before Man by Margaret Atwood and Rental House by Weike Wang.

 

  • In People Collide by Isle McElroy, there’s a mention of Elizabeth reading “a popular feminist book about how men explained things to women.” The day I finished reading the novel, I started reading the book in question: Men Explain Things to Me by Rebecca Solnit.
  • I learned about the “he’s-at-home” (19th-century dildo) being used by whalers’ wives on Nantucket while the husbands are away at sea through historical fiction – Daughters of Nantucket by Julie Gerstenblatt, which I read last year – and encountered the practice again through an artefact found in the present day in The History of Sound by Ben Shattuck. Awfully specific!

 

  • A week after I finished reading Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel, it turned up in a discussion of Vancouver Island in Island by Julian Hanna.

 

  • A Cape Cod setting in Sandwich by Catherine Newman (earlier in the year) plus The History of Sound by Ben Shattuck and Rental House by Weike Wang.
  • A gay character references Mulder and Scully (of The X-Files) in the context of determining sexual preference, and there’s a female character named Kit, in The Old Haunts by Allan Radcliffe and one story of Show Don’t Tell by Curtis Sittenfeld.

 

  • A mention of The Truman Show in the context of delusions in The Year of Living Biblically by A.J. Jacobs and You Don’t Have to Be Mad to Work Here by Benji Waterhouse.

 

  • St. Lucia is mentioned in Beasts by Ingvild Bjerkeland, Brightly Shining by Ingvild Rishøi (two Norwegian authors named Ingvild there!), and Mudhouse Sabbath by Lauren Winner.
  • A pet named Darwin: in Levels of Life by Julian Barnes it’s Sarah Bernhardt’s monkey; in Cold Kitchen by Caroline Eden it’s her beagle. Within days I met another pet beagle named Darwin in Island by Julian Hanna. (It took me a moment to realize why it’s a clever choice!)

 

  • A character named Henrik in The Place of Tides by James Rebanks and one story of Show Don’t Tell by Curtis Sittenfeld, and a Hendrik in The Safekeep by Yael van der Wouden.

 

  • A hat with a green ribbon in The Safekeep by Yael van der Wouden and one story of Show Don’t Tell by Curtis Sittenfeld (in which it’s an emoji).
  • Romanian neighbours who speak very good English in Island by Julian Hanna and Rental House by Weike Wang.

 

  • A scene of returning to a house one used to live in in Hyper by Agri Ismaïl, The Old Haunts by Allan Radcliffe, and one story of Show Don’t Tell by Curtis Sittenfeld.

 

  • A woman has had three abortions in The House of Dolls by Barbara Comyns and Without Exception by Pam Houston.
  • Household items keep going missing and there’s broken china in The House of Dolls by Barbara Comyns and The Safekeep by Yael van der Wouden.

 

  • Punctuated equilibrium (a term from evolutionary biology) is used as a metaphor in Hyper by Agri Ismaïl and Men Explain Things to Me by Rebecca Solnit.

 

  • The author’s mother repeatedly asked her daughter a rhetorical question along the lines of Do you know what I gave up to have you? in Permission by Elissa Altman and Without Exception by Pam Houston.

 

  • The author/character looks in the mirror at the end of a long day and hardly recognizes him/herself in The Place of Tides by James Rebanks, You Don’t Have to Be Mad to Work Here by Benji Waterhouse, and Amphibian by Tyler Wetherall.

  • A man is afraid to hold his boyfriend’s hand in public in another country because he’s unsure about the cultural attitudes towards homosexuality in Clinical Intimacy by Ewan Gass and Small Rain by Garth Greenwell.

 

  • The author’s mother is a therapist/psychologist and the author her/himself is undergoing some kind of mental health treatment in Unattached by Reannon Muth and You Don’t Have to Be Mad to Work Here by Benji Waterhouse.
  • A man declares that dying in one’s mid-40s is nothing to complain about in A Beginner’s Guide to Dying by Simon Boas and Small Rain by Garth Greenwell.

 

  • A woman ponders whether her ongoing anxiety is related to the stressful circumstances of her birth in Unattached by Reannon Muth and When the World Explodes by Amy Lee Scott.

 

What’s the weirdest reading coincidence you’ve had lately?