What I Read in March

Man, I need to get cracking on some of these monthly reading installments, so I can hurry up and tell you about how much fun I've been having with the REAL attention-getter: Summer Book Bingo! 

But we've still got two months to cover. I'll combine April and May into one post for concision - and frankly, because I didn't actually get a whole lot of reading done in those months -  but that's for next time I see you. For now, we've got March to take care of! 

It was a pretty busy month, with the Spring season and everything that entails well underway, and lots of family commitments to take care of - including a wedding! - which is why out of the three titles I tackled, two of them were both audiobooks. 

How to Solve Your Own Murder (Castle Knoll Files #1), Kristen Perrin

three and a half stars

In a split timeline narrative between the '60s and today, Annie Adams and her great aunt, Frances, navigate love, murder, and intrigue, on an English country estate. With snapshots of the past foretelling betrayal and present action leading to her death, can Frances' own diaries hold the key to Annie solving her murder? And in a village where everyone has an angle on this reclusive eccentric, who can she trust, herself? 

I was stuck - several times, in the midst of really very lovely otherwise audiobook - that I would probably have enjoyed this more if I was reading a physical copy.

As someone who is still tiptoeing back into what was originally, for me, a tremendously loved genre, having the experience of listening to a somewhat strangely-paced, large-ensemble cast mystery, was incredibly frustrating. I didn't like that I couldn't flip back and forth between pages to reacquaint myself with clues, or remind myself of the relationships between characters. 

I was struck several times of other points of reference towards favorites from the genre at large: of course a notable ensemble cast gathered at a house for a murder reminded me of both Agatha Christie and Clue, both of which are name checked in the novel itself, but the mechanics of plot development really reminded me of one hallmark of the point-and-click Nancy Drew video games I used to love, and I could almost imagine how various character actions would play out on screen. I also think modern mysteries involving mystery-obsessed individuals also just kind of fall pretty naturally into Knives Out comparison these days, so it feels like that's a salient reference point, too. 

I was pretty frustrated with the main characters' fragile nature and unflappable self-involvement, but the other characters were similarly two-dimensional -- and yet, how could they not be? There's so many of them! There was also a LOT to say about what everyone was wearing, at all times, in both time settings, though, to be fair, it was eventually revealed to be a bit of a plot point, so maybe that was valid. 

Overall, a pleasant, relatively-low-stakes, cozy country mystery, and an easy read for fans of the genre. And, based on a recent trip to Barnes and Noble, it looks like the sequel in the series has made an appearance... maybe it will be worth picking up a (physical) copy from the library this Fall? 

Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come, Jessica Pan

three stars 

A young woman navigates a lonely life in London by undertaking a series of personal challenges: over the course of the year, she's going to talk to strangers, perform standup, travel solo, and more... as long as she doesn't convince herself to just stay at home, instead. 

This read more like a person's blog than a memoir, even for all that it came equipped and edified with a frankly impressive number of links, statistics, and interviews with professionals in the field. It sported the information of a legitimate scientific experiment with the attitude of a MySpace profile, like wearing a blazer over your favorite crop top. 

Parts of it read as incredibly juvenile - but maybe that is simply the obvious outcome of someone earnestly expressing feelings of loneliness, fear, or inexperience. There was a significant current of insecurity underlying the whole thing that occasionally made the voice of the author feel overly self-effacing, judgmental of others, and even, at times, insincere, angry, or rude. 

I think it was a nice experiment, and it clearly worked for the author, but unfortunately, all it did was reinforce quite a few standard pieces of advice commonly given to introverts and lonely people already: "Be the first to smile," "take a class," "try a new hobby," "be authentic," "travel more," etc. I don't necessarily think that's a criticism, as hearing the wild effects of Pan's adventuring is the whole point of reading the memoir (she is very funny, and bold, for someone so concerned with being alone). It's just up there with "drink more water," "go to sleep earlier," and "eat vegetables" levels on grand revelations for self-improvement. 

It did kind of make me want to take an improv class, though. 

Crying in H Mart, Michelle Zauner 

four stars 

A music-loving young woman desperate to strike out on her own is called back home after her mother's surprising cancer diagnosis. In a memoir that will make you both teary and hungry, Zauner explores her complex relationship with her mixed race heritage, Korean food, breaking into the business, and her mom.

The entire time I was reading this memoir, my own Mom was in the back of my mind. This isn't too surprising, as the book itself is very much about a woman's relationship with her mother, but it's actually because she managed to read this one before me.

Several summers ago, while we were on vacation, Mom had needed a recommendation of a good read, as she hadn't brought any of her own. Being that I was planning on reading this one myself, I lent her the hardcover copy in the giant stack of books that I'd brought. Therefore, she had already formed her opinions on the book years ago, when she had originally read it, while I finally only caught up just this year... and unfortunately I wasn't able to solely evaluate based on my own thoughts and experiences, but with her judgments clouding ever-present on the horizon of my brain. 

(To be entirely fair, maybe battling against the constant mental presence of your mother is the appropriate frame of mind to be in while reading this book.)

She enjoyed it, and loved the descriptions of food and travel best. She had lost her own father while she herself was very, very young, and then my grandma in 2015, almost ten years ago, so maybe this was a slightly insane thing for me to recommend as a vacation read... but she felt it was very moving and emotional. She also, however, hated how the book ended: she couldn't understand why a book that was ostensibly about the authors' mother's death, kept going for so long after the event occurred. 

I significantly disagree, not just on her issue with its length, but actually, about its focus: the book is not about death. Grief outlasts death, and is carried far into the future; just like recipes are passed down by the generations, so are grief and hurt. It makes tremendous sense why the book carries on as Zauner continues to explore Korean cooking, her relationship with her other family members, and processing her pain into her music, because that is what you do in the wake of personal tragedy: her mother comes along for the journey, in memory, and in grief, as Michelle herself experiences personal success, the kind she wishes she could have shared with one of the most important people in her life. 

I will also say, about a month after finishing this one, Japanese Breakfast played Coachella. As I was showing YouTube videos of their performance to my mom, she was surprised to see that she really was a popular and respected indie pop musician, as - and I quote directly on this one - she thought "that was just something she exaggerated for the book."

As it turns out, like my own mom has said before me, Zauner is a very talented memoir writer, just like she is a very talented songwriter.  

Read anything good lately? Let me know, in the comments below!