What I Read in January: Funeral Directors, Viscounts, and Shady Composers

I will never understand those people who loudly proclaim that "January always drags on for so long!" As for me, I feel like I never get quite enough done in January to suit my plans. All of those Resolutions, and I've got only a fraction of anything completed to get on board with them. To point: I didn't read nearly enough this month to soothe my aspirations for 2022. (And I didn't even get a single five-star read, either!) 

Also, I've just barely gotten good at remembering to write "2022" on my papers at all. 

At the same time, I'm looking with a little bit of dread ahead at February, which has - to my experience - always managed to go by in the blink of an eye. With a quadruple-header pulling up the week of February 14th (younger sibling's birthday PLUS Valentine's Day, directly followed by Mardi Gras, followed two days later by my best friend's birthday), I've already got major plans in place packing those first two weeks of the month. Now I'm just busy trying to find a way to fit in as many romance novels and chocolate, King's Cake and crawfish into those 15 days as possible.

But that's a problem for Tomorrow Me. Instead, let's take a look back at the three books I DID manage to read this month: 

CONFESSIONS OF A FUNERAL DIRECTOR: HOW THE BUSINESS OF DEATH SAVED MY LIFE, Caleb Wilde

So, here's how it played out: one of my younger siblings is an aspiring funeral professional, and received this book as a part of a Christmas present. Once finished, it was passed along to me. Then, Mom saw it sitting in the hallway outside of their room, and asked to be able to read it, too, and once she was finished, passed it along to Dad, as well. Now, we're in a situation where the only people who haven't read it are the ones who don't live at home anymore, and the ones who have and do, had widely different reactions to the book we've all read.

My sibling - the one who actually works as a staff assist at a funeral home about a half an hour from our house - didn't like it. The background of a family-run practice, as well as something steeped in small-town feelings and religion, was definitely not their favorite, from both a professional standpoint and a personal-political one. The religious bent was a part of my problem with the book, too, as well as the almost juvenile nature of the writing style, which I found very distracting: the diction and syntax didn't exactly impress me, and the organizational focus of having every chapter need to end with some kind of moral or summarizing bow put on it, felt very "fifth grade book report" (or at least gives off a "definitely pulled this chapter directly off of your blog" kind of smell).

Meanwhile, what my Mom and Dad appreciated the most about it, was that they felt it afforded them more of a perspective into the work my sibling does every day. For them, the book took a more balanced and personal perspective into a world that is, for many, either ignored or viewed with outright suspicion.

So, I think the main takeaway is that for those who have had little cause to encounter the funeral industry otherwise, or who are looking for more unique perspectives on grief and loss, this book is an easily accessible gateway. But for those who might have a little bit more familiarity, or who have their own insider perspectives on the industry as well, you might want to skip this installment for something a little more wholistic, rather than restricted to such a specific viewpoint.

The thing we all agreed on, though, was that our favorite part of the reading experience was seeing all of the handwritten notes Val had annotated in the columns... of which there were many.

SOUNDS LIKE TITANIC: A MEMOIR, Jessica Chiccehitto Hindman

What I had been thinking, going into this book - an impulse cart-add from Book Outlet last year - was that it sounded interesting enough, and like an easy read to pass on to my younger brother, someone actively going to school for Music. By the time I'd gotten even halfway through it, I had seriously reconsidered my position: while it was an orienting focus for the narrative, Music had very little to do with this read. Instead, what the story became, included perspectives on socioeconomic class and values, reflections on girlhood in the late '90s, and memories of war gleaned from a firsthand perspective on foreign soil. That being said, it was all still very much about a totally bonkers composer and maybe-con-artist, which kept me more than engaged the entire way through.

My favorite part of the book ended up being Hindman's sense of amoralism: despite the fact that elements of the book definitely reflected realities that were sketchy, suspicious, and lacking in integrity, she keeps personal inflection of support or rejection at arms length. Despite the fact that this composer is clearly at least a little bit of a fraud (honestly, a LOT of a bit), she continues to work for him for years. Despite objective impressions of small-town mindsets, big-city elitism, American illusions of wealth and status, and foreign impressions on security and privilege, Hindman didn't take a lot of the opportunities given for voicing her own emotionally-driven judgement or response. Mainly, she recognized that every decision has its motivation, which exists on a spectrum of human experience, and just let you decide. 

I also really loved the writing style and narrative voice: conversational enough to be direct and intimate, while giving into metaphor and emotional descriptions in order to better translate an intangible medium, like Music. 

As someone who reads a lot of memoirs, this was one that felt very fresh and different, to me. I read it and thought to myself, "This girl could have been a character in a novel." The truth can be like that sometimes.

THE VISCOUNT WHO LOVED ME (Bridgerton #2), Julia Quinn 

For a show as groundbreaking as Netflix's Bridgerton, I can't help but feel that they managed to polish gold from a patch of clay. Sweeping set décor, bright and vibrant costuming, diverse and high-caliber cast, and new and exciting musical scores... not exactly the kind of material I would have expected to accompany this book series. At least not what I've read so far.

What I will say, though, is that the snappy and engaging dialogue certainly translates between the two mediums. In fact, I think the conversational aspects of the book are its greatest strengths... if among its only ones.

This is no dunking on romance novels, I assure you: I read quite a few of those, and happen to enjoy a lot of them regularly. Even in passing through this particular novel, I frequently found myself laughing along, smiling and grimacing as the narrative required. But unfortunately, the things I found distracting or mediocre were not directly relegated to the story's characters or pacing, but instead, how trope-heavy it is.

(Yes, I get that this is my problem, not the genre's. There are plenty of historical romance authors who choose to eschew time-related tropes, and those who engage with them fully, and I'm fully a fan of numerous people on both sides of that spectrum. Still, it gets tiring after a while.)

The other side of the coin was that things that make this particular installment unique and not trope-heavy, also left it feeling mor than a little SILLY. While the humor of the series is absolutely an asset, there were other parts involved that were so out-of-pocket as to feel completely ridiculous. I mean, I love a good marriage-of-convenience / social-requirement plot, but doing so because you got caught attempting to suck bee venom (?) out of a woman's breast (??) by three people in a garden, including your mother (???). Good God. I had to put the book down and pick up my jaw off the floor. TRULY can't wait to watch that scene play out on screen, especially because I also watch with my mom. 

All in all, a pleasant way to spend an afternoon, but in the end, that's still kind of the general feeling I was left with at the close of the novel: I cannot wait until March 25th. 

What did you manage to read this month? Anything exciting on the docket for February? Let me know, in the comments below!

Top Ten Tuesday: New-to-Me Authors I "Discovered" in 2021

"Top Ten Tuesday" is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by That Artsy Reader Girl!

Hi, yes, hello. It's good to see you, too! Where have I been? Umm... 

Okay, yes, I have barely posted anything at all on this platform this month And I do know that I promised - well, I promised myself - that this would be a better blogging year than the last one, and I fully intend to keep that agreement. I swear it's not for lack of trying!

To further be very fair to myself, I spent the first two weeks of the year trying to wrap up the last one. Seriously, it took me until the 3rd to set up this year's planner, the 7th to wrap up rereading last year's journal, and the 14th to even bother setting up my book journal for the new year! And goodness knows that if all of my notebooks aren't organized, then my brain certainly isn't either. 

Enough with excuses, though. What we're looking for is action! So how about a brand spankin' new "Top Ten Tuesday" post to close out snowy, grey January?

This week, the name of the game is "New Authors I'd Never Read Before Within the Ranks of My 2021 Reading List," and let me tell you, the game is a difficult one... mainly because, as someone who regularly enjoys rereads of perennial favorites, as well as catching up with the backlists of already-beloved authors, digging out the new ones you really loved is far more limited than you might expect. Especially when you consider that, in 2021, I was able to enjoy reading and rereading work from some of my favorite authors of all time, including Romance author Sarah McLean, Food writer Kathleen Flinn, as well as regular Fantasy heavy-hitters, like Leigh Bardugo, Tamora Pierce, and Seanan McGuire. 

So once we clear those big names out of the lineup, things start to get a little more interesting.

1. Martha Wells

It is absolutely bonkers to consider the fact that this exact time last year, I was entering into the Murderbot series for the first time, without any expectations whatsoever. The books had been a gentle recommendation from a friend, and I'd been excited to dip my toes back into a true-blue Science Fiction series at some point, so picking up a simple novella from a trusted publisher felt like no biggie. Little did I know that Wells' series would become one of the defining points of my reading year, and that in short order, I'd be able to hook both my brother and my Dad onto the series as well. 

2. Colin Jost

Anyone who knows me - or, for that matter, my family - knows that Saturday nights are meant for posting up on my couch, watching NBC with whoever else is home. Coming together to watch new episodes as an adult still carries the same magic that got me hooked on SNL during my middle school years, with the Andy Samberg, Tina Fey and Bill Hader reign of the mid-to-late '00s. Naturally, as soon as I knew co-head-writer and Weekend Update dreamboat Colin was writing a memoir, I made sure an ebook hold was placed in my name at my local library. But while I knew Colin was great at short-form, TV-ready comedy, I was honestly surprised by exactly HOW much I enjoyed this book. It turned into, hands down, the book I recommended to the highest amount of people in 2021. Even more than Murderbot!

3. Aiden Thomas

2021 - and 2020, for that matter - was really defined by significant periods of reading slumps, and then short-and-fast breakthroughs, thanks to books that really captured my attention and managed to get me to look forward to something new. Thomas' book, Cemetery Boys, had been garnering praise from numerous friends online, so I kind of figured I was going to enjoy it; what I wasn't prepared for was the fact that it would be so new, exciting, and fun, nor that it could become such a joyous, comforting, wholesome read. Truly, this book was a gift, and I'm excited to see what comes next from such a talented author. 

4. Rachel Bloom

Much like how I'd already experienced Colin Jost's work via a fanatical devotion to television, so, too, was I already acquainted with Rachel Bloom, by way of her critically-celebrated cult-favorite show, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, which aired for four seasons on the CW. And like with Aiden Thomas' novel, Bloom's irreverent memoir, I Want to Be Where the Normal People Are, pulled me out of a significant reading downturn. Her outrageous, hilarious writing style was only made the more personable by way of an audiobook told in her own voice, and the whole thing felt like spending an afternoon with your crazy hilarious theater friend. While I'm stoked that her professional career has seemed to hit a real sweet spot with voice acting, I hope we also see her return to the written word again soon. 

5. Christine Feehan

Out of everything that has yielded itself from the Big Box of Paranormal Romance - a final wrap-up of which is still coming at some point in February, I promise - the thing that probably surprised me the most wasn't just that I enjoyed it, but that I enjoyed it enough to think to myself, "I'm going to look out for this author in the future." Because this crazy ride of a Romance packed such an entertaining punch, I'm actually going to start looking for other installments in the series when I hit up my regular thrift shop rotation. 

6. Alice Wong (and the writers of Disability Visibility)

Out of all of the books I read in the (futile) hopes of desperately achieving even one bingo on the Seattle Public Library Book Bingo list last summer, this is the one that I am most thankful to have stepped out of my comfort zone to read. The square was "Social Activism," the Goodreads reviews said things like "empowering" and "uplifting," but the thing I found most difficult to do was lift my jaw up off the floor: this book sheds a spotlight on inequities in the daily lives of disability advocates everywhere, especially those who fall into cross-sections with other forms of vulnerable minority groups. I still have tabs open in the browser of my iPhone, stuck on the Wikipedia pages of some of the authors therein I want to go back and read more into later, and I read this book back in early July. 

7. Grady Hendrix

Now, listen. Seriously! I know that I absolutely hated Final Girls Support Group. As in, REALLY hated. Horror and violence and gore are really just not my bag, and the whole thing made me viscerally upset... but not upset enough to stop reading. Sure, I skimmed, but the truth of the matter is, despite my revulsion at the majority of the plot, I could still recognize that Hendrix really knows how to do suspense and narration in a compelling way! And while I'm probably not going to seek out My Best Friend's Exorcism or Horrorstor from his backlist any time soon, I can still look forward to the title he's supposed to be releasing this year, How to Sell a Haunted House. 

8. Laura Esquivel

Out of my four years as an active English major and a fairly adventurous habitual page-turner, I honestly have no idea how I managed to make it to 28 years of age before I finally picked up Laura Esquivel's writing. Like Water for Chocolate is actually on my list to re-read this year already, despite having only finished it in the last few days of December. 

9. Daniel Kehlmann

Out of everything that could have tempted me back into actually enjoying a Horror novel in 2021, who would have called an English translation of a German bestseller to come out on top, right? Especially in novella form. But I found this brief work evocative, gripping, and perfectly-paced so that the tension made your whole back feel like a too-tight guitar string and I was left jumping at shadows all night. I will absolutely be looking for his name again in the future.

10. Gary Janetti

Its always a little bit exciting when you listen to an audiobook, in a voice that sounds nothing like yours, about a life that looks nothing like yours, written by a guy that has lived a thousand experiences that sounds like nothing you've ever even attempted... and you think to yourself, "Hey, he's kind of like me." Janetti's wandering, Walter Mitty-ish daydreams, intercut with crystal-clear insights into the daily victories and tragedies of life, as well as some of the funniest observations you've ever heard, makes for an audiobook narrated by a friend you've never met telling a long, circuitous, introspective view of the most pinpointed dramatic moments of their life. I liked it so much I've already put this year's follow up, Start Without Me (I'll Be There in a Minute) on my Goodreads TBR. 

So, what's in your Top Ten? Let me know, in the comments below!

My Year in Books: 2021 Reading Stats Recap, and the Best Books I Read this Year

Was it the best I've ever read in a year? No, no it was not. But it was also, by far, not the worst... for that designation, you'd have to look to 2020, aka, the only year I've ever lost a Goodreads Challenge.

Perhaps that's why this year's eleventh hour finish feels like such a validation in its own right? All I can say is, that whether you finish your challenge all the way back in August (like I used to in college), or if you close the last page on a two-star graphic novel the morning of New Year's Eve (like I did for 2021), it all counts the same.

Here's what the rest of my reading year looks like, in a nutshell:

2021's Reading Year was one shaped by a couple different outside factors: for starters, my brother gave me a box of 20 Paranormal Romances, for which I set a goal to finish in its entirety, and on a second note, the Seattle Public Library's 2021 Book Bingo was so strangely specific that it required a total TBR reshaping to complete even a smattering of boxes. Those two challenges alone really compelled me to switch up my regular mood-reading tendencies, in order to leap over high bars which, occasionally, led me to some really interesting titles. Granted, they also exposed me to some of my least favorite books out of the entire year - here's looking at you, Paolo Bacigalupi's The Water Knife - but that's what happens when you venture outside the norms.

In terms of numbers, I think this is yet another year in the continued trend of reading lower page counts than I have the year before... even if you look back at my 2018 and 2019 recaps, there's a demonstrable trend of decreasing total pages, every single year. Maybe this is a part of the Goodreads effect: that in focusing more on the quantity of books you're reading, you sacrifice at least a little bit of quality. Or maybe it's just that after the relative failure of last year, big books scare me now? 

(My brother occasionally likes to make fun of this, but I think someday he holds out hope that I, too, will read the Stormlight Archive series, and other Brandon Sanderson novels that are thick enough to be used as construction materials. But as someone who likes to be lying down when I read, I think it's going to have to be a Kindle or nothing for those bad boys... I don't relish the thought of accidentally dropping one of those on my face.)

Another interesting designation for this year's total tallies, is that my average score for rating a novel has dropped substantially. In 2018, my average score was a 3.9; in 2019, it was a 4.2, and same in 2020 (Which is highly ironic, because I was certainly not in a good mood for either of those last two years). But this year? Talk about a cold snap: I had an average rating of 3.5, which feels about right. I was a lot more ruthless with my ratings this year, and found myself reading a lot of boring and average reading material. 

But that's all in the past now... 2021 is over, and we've got a new year stretched like a pristine white tablecloth, with all-new place settings for each and every one of us. Here's a couple of ideas for what to add to your plate in the coming year:

Best of the Year

Best months for reading: December (11 books read, 10 of which were in the last five days of the year!), and April (6 read, 2 DNF'd, 2 in progress by the month end)

Best series I read: the Murderbot series by Martha Wells (of which I read the first four titles), and The Immortals series (aka, Daine's books, in their completion) by Tamora Pierce 

Best rereads: Howl's Moving Castle, by Diana Wynne Jones, which preserved every ounce of its usual domestically magical charm, and Kitchen Counter Cooking School, by Kathleen Flinn, which solidified itself as one of my favorite nonfiction books - and books about food - ever, by one of my favorite authors ever.

Top New-to-Me Reads of the Year:

1. Like Water for Chocolate, Laura Esquivel

Read in the last few days of the year, this one managed to adhere itself to the walls of my brain so much that I've found myself thinking over its passages long after the final page was turned. About midway through the book, I already started planning out a much more in-depth reread to take place this year, in order to take my time enjoying it more. Utterly lovely and enrapturing, and honestly, one of the few pieces of fiction I read this year that really made me feel something. 

2. A Very Punchable Face, Colin Jost

One of my favorite SNL funnymen turns out to be just as much of a compelling personality as I'd hope him to be. From talking about how his firefighting family reacted to September 11th, to discussing the time he was saved from one of his worst surfing fails by none other than Jimmy Buffet, this read was compelling, hilarious, and has been, in total, the book I've recommended to the most people this year. (You should read it, too.)

3. I Want to Be Where the Normal People Are, Rachel Bloom

Listen, I get it: like the television show she both co-created, co-wrote, and starred in - the CW's Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, which ended its four-season run in 2019 - this book is not going to be for everyone. But it is, in fact, so specifically made for me, that listening to the audiobook while lying on my floor yanked me out of a depressive period that had lasted, by that point, over a month. Her voice and sense of humor might just be for me and me alone, but maybe that's what made it one of the greatest books I read this year. 

Honorable Mentions: 

Here for It: or How to Save Your Soul in America, R. Eric Thomas

A Black, gay man speaks with enormous strength and joy about the journey it took to gain both while growing up in predominantly white, upper-class communities. Hearing about how his relationship with religion has changed over the course of his life - and how his husband is a reverend! - felt refreshing and honest, and his expertly-woven references to pop culture and media had me googling things whose tabs are still open in my phone browser, in case I want to come back to them again later.

Disability Visibility: First Person Stories from the 21st Century, ed. Alice Wong

I haven't read many - if any at all - works of nonfiction by disabled people before, and reading this collection of pieces with almost zero background was kind of like throwing someone who doesn't like swimming into the deep end of an ice cold swimming pool. It's the kind of shock and chill that reaches into your bones and doesn't let go. This book should be required reading in high schools. 

The Answer Is..., Alex Trebek

As a Jeopardy! family - aka, the kind of family who watches episodes together in hours-long binges off of the DVR, has house rules for playing along with the TV, and who has significant opinions on who should be sworn in as the next host - this book was required reading; it just took a little after Alex's death for me to grapple with being able to do it. I still cried, multiple times. What an incredible, humble, intelligent, extraordinary man. 

Cemetery Boys, Aiden Thomas

A truly joyful and engrossing read, that I was absolutely not expecting. It's a key duo of things I don't typically go for - both YA, and Urban Fantasy - and features a trans main character, which I don't think I've read much of in the past, but even right out of the gate, it surprised me by being one of the most compelling, uplifting books I read this year. Totally delightful, sweet, genuine, and comforting. 

So, that's it that: 2021 is over. It's crazy to thing that at this time last year, I had not yet read a Paranormal Romance novel about two psychics taking down a psychic serial killer, or four books about a severely antisocial SecUnit who just can't help putting its freedom on the line in order to save its humans, or two really terrifically awful books about meditation.

Can't wait to see the kind of damage I do in the coming year, too!

What were some of your best reads for 2021? How did your Goodreads Challenge go? Let me know, in the comments below!