2023: My Worst Year in Books, Ever (No, Really)

The whole thing feels a bit like you've spent the afternoon wandering down a long, sandy, rainy beach. (I feel like a bit of an expert in these; the PNW happens to have a lot of them.) 

You've been flipping over any big stones, hoping to find some little crabs or something, looking for a tide pool or maybe scanning for movement amongst the gravel, only to look back once you've reached the end and see you simply left a lot of holes, but haven't unearthed a darn thing. Sure, you made the distance, got some steps in, and maybe found a little bit of cool bits of broken shell or thwacked your sibling in the leg with some dried seaweed, but for the most part? A lot of sand... and it's a longer way still to get back to the car. 

What I'm saying is, personally speaking, 2023 felt like a bit of a bust.

So, can we just say "Happy New Year"? I'm trying to stay away from broad, hyperbolic statements like "Surely, it couldn't get any worse," because if there's anything I've learned from countless hours of children's media, it's that the sky would suddenly break out into rainfall, the dam would collapse behind us, and a cloud of locusts might appear on the horizon. 

How about instead, we just recognize that the last couple of "new" years have, in fact, been a little bleak, and leave it at that. 

(The most frustrating thing about this this, is that we don't all seem to be on the same page: for instance, some people I truly adore in this world have spent the past year getting engaged, getting married, starting new jobs, starting new lives in new cities, having babies, getting published, going viral, what have you... but this post isn't about them. This post is about me... and maybe you too?) 

Let's start with the obvious: I missed my Goodreads Challenge goal. In fact, thanks to Goodreads and the power of dedicatedly logging all of your reading habits into a portal that the whole world can check on whenever they please, is that you know, straight up, all the "when"s and "how"s of a bad reading year... like, for instance, when you've been on decline for multiple years in a row, and even how you've had reading years where you've read almost double what you managed in this past one. 

I think it's time to trot out some excuses for myself. So, what gives? 

• I did a lot of travel last year. You would think this would help me read more, right? After all, I have put up plenty of vacation-style reading recaps in the past... but if anything, it made my regular daily schedules feel out of whack, and hard to settle back into, every time we went out of town. Either I was reading in unfamiliar locales, which was both hard to acclimate towards and made me feel incredibly guilty for not making the most of my new surroundings, or I was at home, scrambling to do all the things I couldn't get done while I was gone.
• My family is going through some major upheaval at the moment. But it's actually a good thing: one of my siblings got engaged in 2023, and will be getting married in 2024, with yours truly serving as a Maid of Honor (or Disrepute, Chaos, or Distraction, considering which sources you believe). With another sibling graduating college this year as well, it's been pretty busy around here.
• My volunteering hours have absolutely skyrocketed. Without giving too much away: whereas I used to serve a few key functions for the organization I dedicate the most time to, in the past year, that has increased exponentially. The good news is, I have gained several new key skill sets; the bad news is it feels like my free hours are still dwindling rapidly. Then again, I wouldn't be dedicating a minimum of four-to-six hours a week to this organization if I didn't care. 
• I started a new writing venture! As you might know, I now am also the author of not only this platform, but a monthly cooking Substack. Not only am I doing a very different kind of close reading these days, but I'm also dedicating several hours a month to both jam-packing the fridge with all of my necessary ingredients, and dishing up about exactly what I've been cooking on my newsletter. 
• I experienced a serious Reading Slump, from September through December. I'm not interested in getting into it, at least right now - you might have noticed that this platform has been pretty desolate for this last third of the year - but trying to get my brain to commit to consuming anything that wasn't a scrolling Tetris game or something easy on Food Network was a hard go of it, for sure. 

And things aren't slowing down. We've got a sister to get hitched - plus the accompanying Bachelorette Trip, Bridal Showers, Wedding Weekend, and more - coming up in 2024, as well as a college graduation and a sibling's subsequent move home, and that's just all the stuff that isn't even my fault. I'm still writing my Substack, volunteering even more than I used to, and to top it all off... I just started a new job! 

So, you know. Things are fine. 

Oh, right, except the fact that in 2023, I read eight books less than the year previous. 

(Kind of funny, once you consider that my total page count was down only 469 from the year before, too. So I guess I could have just read eight more books, around 60 pages in length, to meet 2022's numbers?) 

The shortest book I read was 114 pages - Time is a Mother, a poetry collection by Ocean Vuong - and the longest book was 592 pages, as Leigh Bardugo needed every last one of them to round out her King of Scars duology with Rule of Wolves. All told, my average book length was 320 pages, which is way up from 274 in 2022. 

The only thing I can say for consistency's sake is that my average score is still rocking at 3.6 stars! This has become something of a norm for me - occasionally vacillating upwards to 3.7 every once in a while - which is kind of nice. It means that I'm not especially loving or hating books out of the norm, at least on an annual aggregate basis. 

Outside of what stats Goodreads can hit me with - like bb pellets on the shin - there were some cool, non-quantitative things that happened this year, though. 

For instance, my best months for reading were in June and August, no doubt thanks to my annual propensity for getting real weird about the Seattle Public Libraries Summer Reading Challenge.  And I did, in fact, get three bingoes on my Summer Reading Book Bingo card, just like I shoot for every year.

I successfully completed a Book Buying Ban, and the only three titles I broke my promise for were during my Bloggoversary! (But more on this later.) 

In terms of favorite bookish projects that warranted a mention on the blog, I not only reread Jane Eyre by myself to start off the year last January, but I also collected every single word I had to google during that dedicated effort, and even published all of them for you on the blog, as well as some words of argument as to why we should all be learning new words, all the time. 

Off the blog, I launched my first ever attempt at a non-scholastic buddy reading experience with my younger brother, of the Sibling Shakespeare Book Club. We read the entirety of The Tempest together through the month of July, with weekly check-in Zoom meetings, complete with PowerPoint slide decks oriented around cultural significance, literary references, and deep-dives into popular quotations (me), as well as a lot of great memes and undeniable enthusiasm (him). It was honestly really cool to not only feel like more of an English major again, but also get to experience something like one of my favorite plays for the first time through someone else's eyes. 

It was pretty quiet here, on this platform, though: only 24 posts total from the year, averaging two a month... which is still the most posts I've had on the blog since 2019. Hooray? 

books of the year 

Despite the fact that I did end up reading significantly less than I have in recent years, I still managed to read a few books that really defined my bookish experiences in 2023... showing that even if you read less than you'd like, there's still a great chance that at least one or two of the titles you pick up are going to stick with you! Out of the 38 books I read, here are five that really made me feel like I got some good reading done.

Time is a Mother, Ocean Vuong

I'm not much of a poetry collection kind of gal, but in the past few years, that's been starting to change... and I've got the carefully-printed-and-taped entries onto the wall leading into my room to prove it. The actual action of reading poetry regularly, though, is still something I'm easing into. 

The last two summers have seen me spending time with poetry collections, thanks to various Book Bingo requirements, and Summer 2023 was definitely a highlight for that. Ocean Vuong is one of those social-media-famous poets not because of any kind of aesthetic pandering or pseudo-intellectualism in their messaging, but because their words are so incredibly intentional and deliberate, their messages are universally accessible, and their voice feels so specific and unique. I'm a big fan, and I can see why everyone else is, too.  

The Twisted Ones, T. Kingfisher

Just like Poetry, I'm not exactly too much of a Horror fan... though a youthful fascination with Stephen King short stories and a collegiate-born love of Mark Danielewski's House of Leaves might surprise you. (It all dovetails pretty neatly with how I stopped watching scary movies in college when I realized they made my anxiety so much worse.) But look at me now! I read two Horror books this past Summer, and they were both incredible. This one beats out Stephen Graham-Jones' The Only Good Indians for two specific reasons: this was just a little more straightforward in its intentions, and it was one of the most fun (and funny!) reads I experienced this year. 

I actually even read part of it while I was camping, if you can believe it. 

On top of that, it was one of two Kingfishers I read in 2023, and it's the one that made me a cemented fan. I actually just received two of their other novels as a Christmas gift from my brother - Thornhedge, a Fantasy novella, and A House with Good Bones, another Southern Gothic-style Horror, both published last year - and I'm so, so excited to read them. 

How Far the Light Reaches: a Life in Ten Sea Creatures, Sabrina Imbler

Again, yet another hit from the mysterious inner workings of SPL's Book Bingo. The square was for "Sea Creatures," and the mega-hyped title everyone was trying to grab was Shelby Van Pelt's Remarkably Bright Creatures. To be honest, I am still planning on reading that title eventually, but by the time I got to it back in June, the library holds list already stretched to hell and back, so I decided to veer towards Imbler instead, and I am so ecstatic I did.

It's both informative and engrossing, matching a very genuine enthusiasm for marine life with a careful and considerate perspective of their own life, too. Imbler is thoughtful and made interesting connections, treated everyone in their social circle with intention and focus while still holding their own perspective in the foreground, and overall, I just got the very intense feeling that they're someone I'd really love to sit down to coffee with. 

(Maybe that's just one of those joyful things about memoirs; it's all of our opportunity to get coffee together.) 

Now that I'm released from the self-manufactured cage of a Book Buying Ban, this is a title I'm actively interested in securing for my own shelves, so I can reread it again later, or lend it to as many people as I'd like. 

There's No Such Thing as an Easy Job, Kikuko Tsumura

Okay, so apparently, all of the biggest and most important books I read this year came from Summer Book Bingo?? Good grief. This one was used to fill a block that called for "Worker's Rights," which is a pretty generous stretch of relevance there, on my part, but a choice that I still stand by. 

Truly a testament to the awe-invoking power of a book's ability to change the way you experience your own life, this not only set me on a more hopeful and positive job search path this past year, but is something that I genuinely believe helped make the difference in me finding the one that I did. 

A Japanese translation that was absolutely gorgeous to read, it was also a bit of a trip, matching a sense of magical realism and surreality with the mundane aspects of holding or maintaining unconventional jobs. I think I've brought this book up in conversations this year more than anything else I've read... it really is something you need to experience yourself, though, so I'm pretty unwilling to give a lot of spoilers for it. 

It's also definitely the reason I'm going to be look to read more translations from Japanese novels in the future. Like with Imbler's HFtLR, I'm trying to add a physical copy of this title to my personal bookshelves as well. 

Shubeik Lubeik, Deena Mohamed

I was looking for a bit of hope while suffering under my slump, and inspired by Goodreads' incredibly bone-headed decision to eliminate the Graphic Novel from this year's iteration of the Goodreads Awards, I placed a few on hold at my library, and picked this one up in December. 

I mean, come on. When's the last time a Graphic Novel made you cry? I still have pictures of dialogue sections from its pages saved into the Camera Roll on my phone, because I like to go back and look at them when I need another dose of perspective. 

It's a pretty unique combination of sociocultural landscape and Fantasy influence, wherein a modern-day Cairo lays the stage for interactions between regular, everyday people and genie wishes available for purchase. Where contemporary politics meets historic pain; economic status interchanges with differences in identity and opportunity; where the overarching magic seems to stem from, once again, human connection and the people we share our lives with. 

Absolutely incredible, and well worth how thick it is. I read it in two afternoons - bisecting only thanks to various family gatherings - but it would also be a great way to spend a free evening. I promise you will be grateful for the bit of peace you might feel in reading this. 

That's it for 2023. I give the year no warning about whether or not the door should hit it on the way out; I'm too wrapped up in trying to scramble as hard and as fast as I can towards 2024 to care. I'm hoping it will be kinder, or - at the very least - it will be slightly easier to manage, and that unlike in the past few years, I will somehow manage to find both more time and inclination to read again. 

But of course, there's still a little bit we have to talk about before we wrap up the past year completely. There are two major Challenges that are still under discussion... one distinctly more effective and complete than the other. 

More on that later. Until then! 

How did your reading year go in 2023? What were some of your top titles of the year? Let me know, in the comments below!

2022: My Year in Books (Reading Stats, and the Best Books I Read this Year)

The more things change, the more things stay the same... we're another year older and wiser, and most likely still carrying a little more extra hand sanitizer and a couple of KN95s in our tote bags. We've made it another rotation around the sun with all our brains, bones, and limbs still intact, and we've got a few more good reads to show for it. Which means, of course, it's time for my 2022 Reading Stats! 

Well, you lose the Goodreads Reading Challenge once (like I did in 2020), you might as well miss the mark twice! For the second time ever, I have once again biffed it on my numerical reading goals... this time missing out on my stretch of 55, by way of a 46 total. That's a nine book difference, but it feels like so much more than that, when I know that the number of books I've been shooting for has only gone downhill over the last couple of years, as well. 

I mean, back in 2015 and 2016 - my last two years of college - I easily handled my 75 and 77 book totals. I tried giving myself a bit of a break in the last few years hence, with goals of 55 and 60, but barring the aberrational year of 2020, I had no problems with handily dispatching those kinds of numbers. In 2021, I barely squeaked by with a shot at 52, ending the challenge on the last day of the year, but this year? I didn't even make it up to the 49 I still managed to make in 2020, the First Year of Failure. What gives? 

To be honest, I think there are a couple of things that ended up shifting around the way I prioritized books in my life this year:

• I'm in the middle of a job search, and my reading record reflects that. I read a lot of job-hunting books, which - while not entirely inaccessible in diction or large in size - required a lot of self-reflection and play-along activity sheets while reading. It's not every book you read that makes you completely rewrite your resume or create a Pinterest board whilst in the middle of a chapter. (And yes, I'm still searching around for a new métier.)
• I went through some health drama that really changed my perspective on the regular Care and Keeping of Me. After living for over six months with severe brain fog, daily migraines, occasional vertigo, and sinuses that felt like they could explode inside my head at any moment, I finally got to the doctor in May. An allergist had some explanations for me at the end of July that not only rocked my world, but set me on several routine kinds of daily medication. (Without getting into it, let me just overarchingly say that I am allergic to "The Outside"... aka, severely allergic to the grass, moderately allergic to most of the weeds, and slightly allergic to a lot of the flowering trees, all in Washington state. Because this is hashtag so my life, naturally these revelations didn't come to pass until AFTER I had already suffered through two camping trips last year. One of the first things my mother said in response to the news was call me "bubble girl.") 
• As you might be able to surmise as a relational aspect to both of the above, I spent a lot of this year in pretty severe mental health flux. I hold up as proof, the fact that I spent all of yesterday rereading my journal from 2022 before I cracked open the front page of 2023... and lemme tell ya, I certainly made sure my first read of the year was a major downer. 

Hopefully, I'll be able to get a better handle on each of these aspects of my daily life in 2023, so they won't spend another whole year mucking up my ability to focus on the words on a page. 

But while my Total Pages Read was THOUSANDS of pages lower than in recent years, it seems that my propensity for average scores is still pretty on target: I'm holding at around a 3.5 to 3.6 ratings for cumulative scoring, which feels pretty right to me, as I'm a little more discerning in my reading habits nowadays. I might not be racking up the point totals like I used to in my peak performance years, but I still have a pretty good idea of when I'm looking at something that just isn't quite up to standard.

I also ended up reading a whole lot of Romance and Memoir - of the 46 books I read, a total of nine came from each of those two categories alone - as well as a significant amount of Fantasy and SciFi (ten total). These kinds of escapist categories go far in representing a year where I clearly spent a lot of time trying to get out of my own head... routine reaches for unrealistically witty banter, celebrity insider scoops, and worlds where magical creatures and high-functioning technology exist are the Savannah equivalents of having an extra glass of wine at dinner (or in some extreme cases, a Long Island Iced Tea at lunch). 

And of course, I would be remiss if I didn't mention the amount of writing I also did this past year... not in the "consistent and dedicated focus" kind of way, but more in the "I wrote 100K words for Camp NaNoWriMo in April and kind of blacked out for a little while there" kind of way. I squirreled away a few different drafts into my Word docs and drew up a couple of other outlines here and there, but while I don't have a lot of content to show for it, I promise, there was a lot of writing going on.

(Just not on this blogging space. Sorry.) 

books of the year

But I did manage to read something! In fact, a few somethings. Not consistently enough to merit a "Fave Book of the Month" out of the twelve in the year - being that some months, I read only a few two- or three- star reads, and some months, I didn't manage to actually read anything at all - but enough to merit a Top Ten, at the very least.

Sounds Like Titanic, Jessica Chiccehitto Hindman 

As it turns out, your second read of the whole year, can also be one of your favorites! 

A young woman's account of her unexpected post-collegiate journey, in a traveling orchestra that didn't really play music, conducted by a man whose compositions sounded a little bit like... well, you can guess from the title. Her writing is remarkably free of moral judgement of the people she traveled and played with, and instead offers a unique perspective on coming of age in the early '00s, in a tense political and cultural sphere, and in the inherent questions of value - or devaluing - of commodified art. 

Working on a Song: the Lyrics of Hadestown, Anais Mitchell

As a theater fan, I'm a huge Hadestown girlie, but particularly, in a "I've Been Following This Since 2016 New York Workshops and the Concept Album Was My Most-Listened On Spotify Before It Ever Hit Broadway" kind of way. 

This detailed, behind-the-scenes perspective not only allows for the deep dive into the lyrics that this evocative storytelling deserves, but also, shows exactly how much effort - from all quarters - goes into getting something ready for the stage. Mitchell shares lyric drafts and and cast-and-crew developments alike, in a way that fans of the show will greatly enjoy. Highly recommend just taking an afternoon to get cozy with the Broadway album, and read along, whilst getting lost in the music. 

The Spiderwick Chronicles series, Holly Black and Tony Diterlizzi

One of the best parts of my Summer, was getting back into some of my childhood favorites: after a Summer Book Bingo slot back in August called for a reread of a past page-turner from the elementary years, I picked up some heavily-loved hardcovers from the children's section of the library, and got to it. It instantly transported me not just into the fantasy realm I remembered... but also, those amber-colored afternoons, coming home on a Thursday (aka, "Library Day," in the fourth grade) with something new checked out, and trying to squeeze in a few chapters before Mom called you down for dinner. 

My brother ended up getting me a minty-fresh softcover boxed set for my Birthday, and they made for some of my final reads of the year. 

Trail of Lightning, Rebecca Roanhorse

Roanhorse had been on one of my most-anticipated stacks of books last Summer, but unfortunately, this book's brutal opening two chapters sent me skittish, and I didn't end up picking it up again until THIS Summer, when I was in a less squeamish place. What followed was in no way less brutal, but also rich, vibrant, gritty, and fantastic, and called forwards mythology not typically seen in Fantasy novels, in a way that felt inherently true and real. 

As soon as I put the book down, while on vacation with my brother, I told him that, despite my aversion to so much bloodshed, I was still thinking of picking up the sequel. 

This is Going to Hurt, Adam Kay

Speaking of squeamish, nothing like the memoirs of an OB-GYN doctor within the British NHS structure to make you rethink the idea of owning a uterus. His unflinching, heartfelt, and humorous diaries from his time dedicated to the healthcare system is infinitely moving, be that your belly shaking with laughter, or your eyes wincing in empathy. It is a proof that doctors care for every kind of patient, while also demonstrating the foibles of a tendency-towards-broken system that has a tendency to break down doctors, too. 

It was one of my most surprising favorites of the year, for sure, and one prompted by a Book Bingo square, too. After the past few years we've experienced, I feel like it should be semi-standard reading... even if some of the pages therein are dedicated to the myriad of things people are willing to shove up their rectum. 

I'm Glad My Mom Died, Jennette McCurdy

Talk about a pop culture moment. I feel like I've seen this book on almost every "Must Read" list of published works from 2022, and I absolutely add myself to that number: it is a smart, well-written, vivid and evocative reflection on what pains come from not only growing up in the spotlight, but loving someone whose love to you brings its own kinds of grief. 

McCurdy - best known for playing Sam in Nickelodeon's late-'00s iCarly series - is a damn good writer, and if the past year has brought her anything, I hope it is the knowledge that she is incredibly talented, and very clearly loved by a whole lot of people. For fans of Hollywood tell-alls, or anyone who's ever watched a "Where are They Now" special on child stars, it's an incredible peek behind the curtain at a very easily corrupted system; for those who enjoy earnest and authentic memoirs, written by those willing to speak with candor about difficult situations, it is a heartbreakingly honest work. 

McCurdy describes her past without judgement or censure towards those involved in her pain, but allows the observer the room to engage emotionally without direction. It might not seem like it from the frank title, but to be clear: she loved her mom. It's just that sometimes, the love people show us ends up cutting deeper than hate ever could. 

The Best Cook in the World, Rick Bragg

Speaking of loving your mom, this book is a thick brick of a love letter to the women in Bragg's mother's side of the family. Chock full of mouth-watering descriptions and enough butter and lard to put a warehouse full of Crisco to shame, this book invoked in me a deep appreciation for modern grocery convenience... as well as an understanding that sometimes, you've just got to steal the pigs feet hanging up in your rich uncle's smokehouse. 

Drawing from an oral history that spans a century, Bragg spins his grandmother's endless yarns about food and family, into a thick, comfy blanket of Southern culinary history. Biscuits, bacon, and beans abound, with garden tomatoes and chitlins and corn worked in there, too, and the whole thing makes you hungry enough to chase down a rural, wild pig, even when reading a chapter about how that's an abominably stupid idea. 

A Psalm for the Wild-Built, Becky Chambers

I told my brother sometime in middle of the year, that I was on the hunt for some more slice-of-life speculative fiction. Fantasy quests and magical swords are cool and all - and who doesn't love a remote space station or difficult-to-understand made-up mechanics? - but honestly... I was looking for something that felt a little more comfy. After all, if you suddenly got the chance to be transported to a fantasy world, are you looking for a monster to slay, or are you heading straight to the nearest tavern? 

I've also been super burnt out on apocalyptic Science Fiction for a few years now - an eternal screw you to Bacigalupi's Water Knife, I hate you forever - and only recently discovered the concept of Solarpunk, so I figured when I saw the Monk and Robot series on several friends' recommended lists, that I would give it a go. 

And that's as much as I'll say about it; I want you to go in with zero-to-nil expectations or assumptions. I just want you to take a quiet afternoon, to read, sip some tea, and reflect. You'll enjoy it, I promise, and hopefully leave feeling a little lighter than when you came. 

The Blacktongue Thief, Christopher Beuhlman

There are certain things in this world I enjoy as some of Life's small pleasures, and within its ranks, "Dungeons and Dragons" and "Swearing" among the tops. I can guarantee that if you, like me, have these as some of your personal favorite extracurriculars, you will also enjoy this hilarious, violent, deeply weird Fantasy. 

Taking place in a richly-detailed and engrossing High Fantasy world, the standout aspects of this work are truly the level of care put into the universe's construction, as well as the voice of Kinch na Shannack, the main character, both of which are - bar none - some of the best I've read in Fantasy in recent years. As a result, you will have to take your time reading, truly... it's like having Deadpool narrate a comprehensive history of Western Europe. And I mean that with the highest amount of praise, and no small amount of fictional obscenities. 

The Talented Mr. Ripley, Patricia Highsmith 

There was a bit of a movement, a couple of years back, where the aesthetic-obsessed netizens of Tumblr, Pinterest, and Instagram got really into sharing screenshots of the '90s Matt Damon / Jude Law / Gwenyth Paltrow movie as a part of their "Summer Inspo" collections. I think they were angling more towards the "sun-soaked Italian vacation" part, and a little less towards the "homoromantic murder" part, but who am I to judge? 

In truth, this book is so much more than what is possible to portray through a screen, and quickly became a favorite read of the Summer, one that I've only been reflecting on more fondly the more months I travel away from August. Ripley is one hell of a character, and while I'm not surprised that Highsmith managed to carry on his exploits in many more printed adventures, I'm shocked that more of them are not popularly read. 

While I strongly advocate for you adding all of these Top Ten to your own personal TBR, here are the ones in particular I think you should pick up first, as a Top Four: 

Sounds Like Titanic, Jessica Chiccetto Hindman

This is Going to Hurt, Adam McKay

I'm Glad My Mom Died, Jeanette McCurdy

A Psalm for the Wild-Built, Becky Chambers 

Well, that's a wrap on 2022. At least, for now... after all, there's a lot more bookish thoughts to wrap up than just what I actually managed to read. Just wait until you hear what I DIDN'T manage to read... but more on that later. 

Let's just say, there are two pretty distinct ways that 2023 is going to look a lot like 2015, 2017, and 2021. Tune in next time! 

What were some of your fave reads of the past year? If you could add one book to everyone's 2023 TBRs, what would you choose, and why? 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!

2020 By the Numbers, and 2021 In My Sights : Stats and Faves

This is going to be a very cut, dry, boring post, for those who are not as completely enraptured by the sound of my hopes and dreams hitting the pavement as I am. 

For the first time in my reading life, I have missed my Goodreads Challenge total goal. 

By ELEVEN BOOKS. 

While I have the utmost regard for anyone who's been able to call 2020 their "best reading year ever" - including my baby brother, who upped his annual goal twice over, from 20 to 60, after it became clear that the only things shaping his senior year of high school were to be a global pandemic and his ability to distract himself with High Fantasy content - it was definitely not the case for me. If I set a record in anything this year, it was number of hours logged into mindlessly doomscrolling various corners of social media, or the total volume of Nerds Ropes eaten in numb disbelief as I did so. 

Still, it's the end of the year, and as the clock has run out, so have my chances of making up that last-ditch deficit. So, here's the numbers for what I actually did manage to read:

the stats 

Pages Read: 15,012

Total Books Read: 49... sort of. 

(I also read 12 romance novels of various stripes that were not included in my Goodreads Challenge, as well as 12 cookbooks, approximately 6 of which probably took more time and attention than many of the books that did make it onto my Goodreads Challenge, as well.) 

Shortest Read: The Silent Gondoliers, William Goldman, at 128 pages

Longest Read: Lair of Dreams (The Diviners #2), Libba Bray, at 613 pages

My total average book length was only a little over 300 pages. 

My most popular read of the year - shared by the highest number of other Goodreads users - was Normal People, by Sally Rooney, I book I really didn't like at all. 

My average star rating across the year was a 4.2, which feels kind of disheartening in retrospect. I know I read some I really loved, but I don't think the overall year of experience warrants something that high. 

Best Reading Months: April and May, with approximately 8 and 9 books each!

Best Romances I Didn't Include in Goodreads Challenge: Sarah MacLean's The Bareknuckled Bastards trilogy... well, at least the first two books. (Look out for the review of the full series later on this Winter.) 

Opinion that has changed the most since I read it: The First Time: Finding Myself and Looking for Love on Reality TV, by Bachelor alum Colton Underwood. Being publicly outed as a stalking, harassing, tracking-locator-planting creep of an ex-boyfriend can definitely lead to reshaped feelings about your memoirs on finding love. 

Best Reread: How to Cook a Wolf, MFK Fisher. A master of her craft and beloved culinary literature fixture for a reason. No wolves were harmed in the making of this book, either, in case you were worried. 

Unexpected Favorite Series: Best American Food Writing. As a kid, I couldn't stomach essay collections, and as an adult, it's one of my favorite formats. This annual collection of various culinary publications - from traditional magazine publishing, to blog posts, to book forwards, and more - is something I've read multiple installments of throughout the year. 

my top ten books of the year

January: The Phantom Tollbooth, Norton Juster

February: Maybe You Should Talk to Someone, Lori Gottlieb

March: How to Cook a Wolf, MFK Fisher

April: My Life with the Saints, Fr. James Martin, SJ

May: Crooked Kingdom (Six of Crows #2), Leigh Bardugo

June: Redshirts, John Scalzi

July: Beka Cooper: Terrier, Tamora Peirce

August: Liar's Club, Mary Karr

September: Paperback Crush, Gabrielle Moss

October: In an Absent Dream (Wayward Children #4), Seanan McGuire

November: Omnivore's Dilemma, Michael Pollan

December: Miss Cecily's Recipes for Exceptional Ladies, Vicky Zimmerman

And my top three of the bunch have got to be: 

So, that's all of the books I did manage to read in 2020, but what about the books I'm planning on reading in the new year? While my TBR stack continues to grow - and my shelves are populated by nearly 200 books I have never read - I've got plenty of ideas, but I'm going nowhere fast if my reading habits stay the same as they were this past year. Here are some changes I'm going to be taking into account for my Goodreads Challenge and bookish hobbies in 2021. 

1. I'm massively lowering my Goodreads Challenge. 

Well, not massively. But it feels massive to me. I've steadily built up my Goodreads Challenge on a yearly basis, never backtracking, simply moving forward or staying at the same level. So it feels a little strange to be giving myself so much room... I'm trying to be positive, and say that this will give me more opportunities to pick up heftier titles I'd otherwise ignore, or that I can always raise the goal higher later, but I'd be lying if I said that this choice wasn't at least partially motivated by the fact that I'm afraid of missing my goal again. (Turning a positive habit into a toxic personal standard? Maybe. But if you saw the pressure I put myself through to make homemade dinners five days a week, you'd know it's not the only arena in which I do that sort of thing.)  

2. I'm making the choice to review and record both my Cookbook and Romance reads on Goodreads, no matter how embarrassed I am about having people I know in real life aware of the dual facts that I enjoy both food and love. 

Mainly, this is a result of two factors: 1. had I included the romance novels I read in my Goodreads Challenge total, I would have finished a full title ahead of my 2020 goal, and 2. my younger brother - one of my primary motivations in life - thinks I'm an absolute weenie for not choosing to do so already. I'm fully aware that stripping out these large populations of my reading life only gives credence to the ideas that they're worth less as reading material, and those are beliefs that I wholeheartedly reject in my personal life, as well. It's time to start putting my reviews where my mouth is. 

3. I'm trying - trying! - to spend less time on social media. 

This is motivated by a truly superfluous amount of factors, but in a large way, has a lot to do with both my personal attention span, and the fact that I just genuinely do not enjoy a lot of the content I engage with regularly online. I'll get trapped in a four-hour time-suck spiral of looking at screenshots of Reddit "AITA" forums on Instagram, and emerge not only wholly dissatisfied, but feeling all the dumber for it. It's time to unhook the talons of my predatory iPhone from my frontal lobe, and reclaim my ability to get through an extra chapter before bed again. 

(And in case you're wondering about my Cookbook challenge from this year - which I only semi-documented on the blog - look for a major recap coming up sometime in the next couple of weeks!)

How did your reading goals shake out in 2020? What were some of your favorite reads of the year? Let me know, in the comments below!

Look Back At It: My 2019 Year In Review!

Whew, boy! 2020 sure came in with a bang, didn't it?

Now, we've found ourselves already two weeks in, I've read one and a half books so far, and I haven't even managed to string together enough letters, sentences, and paragraphs to publish a blogpost in over a month.

Let's change that, and take a look at my Year in Books for 2019! Trust me... there's a lot of ground to cover.

All in all, it's not my best work: My total is a little over 1,250 pages behind what I read last year. I also have an average number of pages-per-book that falls about seven pages lower than the same average last year, as well, so that would also affect those numbers.

I read substantially more Nonfiction this year, which can be explained by the number of Memoirs I picked up for NaNoWriMo (but more on that in a minute). As a result, I read less Fiction, and that includes both Graphic Novels and Romance Novels, which I've seen a lot more of in the past two years of my reading.

My shortest novel wasn't as short as it was last year, and my longest read is almost a hundred pages shorter than last year's longest, too. But neither of those stats mean much to me... what actually ended up drawing my attention was my ratings preferences: On average, last year, I ranked books at a 3.9 out of 5 stars, and in recording that information, I thought that it seemed pretty high. This year, the number came out as 4.2. Are my ratings slipping, or am I just getting too easily amused?

But those are just the numbers. Let's talk about some of my greatest reading trends in the past year:

First book haul of 2019... on January 10th.

I Still Can't Stop Buying Books 

I made one of my mini-reading resolutions for 2019 to stop buying so many books, due to the 147 books left unread on my TBR shelves as of December 2018. Contrary to that decision, the number has only ballooned higher... especially when I kicked off January and February 2019 by purchasing 13 more new reads from Book Outlet and Goodwill, using the excuse that three were for gifts. Of those ten left, I've only read four across the entire year. Math has never been my strong suit, but even I know that's ridiculous. And again, that was just the first two months of the year.


Style and Content Updates... and Other Excuses 

You might have noticed - but probably not, we're all busy - my prolonged absences from this writing space in the past year. This led to, no doubt, my worst blogging year on record, with most months seeing only between 1 and 3 posts published, especially in the second half of the year. This was from a number of decisions on my part: you see, I was desperately trying to find a "reason" for my blog.

My style guide, which I actually love.

My decision to start an Instagram handle for this blog in mid-2018, had gotten me thinking more proactively about marketable elements like theming, design, and audience. By February of 2019, I was determined to give this space a bit of a fresh start, by creating my own take on such hits as an "ideal audience member" and a "style guide," leading to a total website refresh. I thought if things looked more deliberate and put together, it would attract more people to read it... or at least, that's what all those Internet PR classes on Skill Share had convinced me.

To be fair, they were right, as having a specific audience in mind, and a compelling website design, can absolutely help build a comprehensive brand; however, that's not what builds an audience: links, clicks, authentic voice, and, you know, regular post publishing do. That's not what I was focusing on. At that point, I think I was just looking for a reason to stay on this platform, and I thought making it pretty would help.

The truth came to light in July, as I confessed - on Playing in the Pages' Ninth Birthday, no less - that I had been considering eliminating this blog entirely. That post was the first time I'd written since May. The ironic thing is, I spend a good deal of it lamenting how my attention had been so skewed towards creating something "shareable" or resume-worthy, that I had stopped feeling genuine or reading books I found worth posting about, and vowing to turn this space back into something personal and fun... when in actuality, I spent the rest of the year doing the opposite of that!

The only posts that made the cut for the rest of the year, were either general reviews - delivered piecemeal in wide batches, so that none of their individual titles felt all that worthy - or large, in-depth coverage of specific authors I enjoyed (for a favorite: read my deconstruction of Happy Ending tropes, by way of my latest "Reading Romance" series installment here). While they are, in my humble opinion, pretty good, they were daunting to write, and all the less enjoyable for which to plan and read. My profiles on Jasmine Guillory's accessible takes on Intersectional Feminism, or Taylor Jenkins Reid's ability to translate the personal and impersonal through what I called Mediated Intimacy, are definitely among some of my more comprehensive and formal writing on this platform, they also helped turn off those parts of my brain that were just reading for a good time, and turned my writing into... a product.

Which honestly didn't make me want to read at all, let alone write.

Some of the slump advice I compiled.

Readchella Weekend... aka, a Read-a-thon for One 

I found a brief respite in my slump-after-slump hit parade this year around the middle of April. I was already lagging behind on my Goodreads Challenge, and felt like I needed a boost... besides, it was a rare free weekend for me, and if I didn't use it to my best advantage, chances were someone else would fill my schedule for me. It was only after a chance scrolling through my Instagram, that I recognized it was the first weekend of Coachella, and decided to go with a theme; hence, my own personal read-a-thon - or "Readchella," as I dubbed it - was born!

The four books I read that weekend ended up serving as not only the success I needed to get back into the groove of reading regularly (and among the first books I'd finished since February), but also became some of the only regular blog posts I uploaded this past Spring. With day-by-day updates detailing tips I'd found for beating a reading slump, or tracking through the progress I was making, or explaining the logic behind the reading recommendations that had actually helped, it made for a self-motivated activity that kept me accountable and focused on a specific goal, which ended up helping me regain my confidence in my favorite hobby... at least for a little while, before the next slump hit.


NaNoWriMo 2019 Raised the Stakes

By the time November rolled around, I was well and truly behind on my GR Challenge - into a double digit kind of level - but wasn't letting that dull my focus, which had resolutely shifted over to a different kind of annual effort: National Novel Writing Month. I was determined to try it again this year, and my focus was clearly set on writing at least a little bit of a Food Memoir, spurred on by the inspiration of dual Kathleen Flinn reads earlier in the year. I checked out a full stack of the genre from the library - at one point, picking up five holds on a Tuesday, and four more on a Wednesday - and decided that at the same time I was knuckling myself down to write, I'd be reading as much of the genre as possible.

But NaNo this year, ended up being a lot less than ideal. I was unprepared for how emotionally taxing and second-guess-inspiring writing personal-oriented Nonfiction would be, and it felt like none of the books I was reading were really helping me all that much. By the time I reached the end - limping across the finish line three days early, after writing nearly 9,000 words on my second-to-last-day just because I wanted to be done - I was even more burnt out than before, and seriously questioning my own motivations for both reading and writing.


I Really, Truly, Nearly Failed my Goodreads Challenge

As of December 1st, 2019, I was forced to confront an ugly truth: I was 13 - thirteen!! - books behind on my Goodreads Challenge for this past year. I had chosen the number 60, because it was actually much lower than goals I'd reached in the past, and I thought that by giving myself an easier target, it would free me up to make more daring and difficult reading choices.

While I did pick up a couple of hefty pieces of Nonfiction this year, this decision decidedly did not result in me challenging my genre choices; it challenged my ability to not annoy the dickens out of my family for the entire month of December. I mean, I read a total of three books in the last three days of 2019 alone, finishing the last one on New Year's Eve! Sure, I've come close before, but not that close.

And yes, you might be tempted to say that the Challenge is just a number, and it's more about personal motivation... but I've always been motivated by extrinsic values. Setting my goal is a choice I make with intention every year, an external factor that motivates me to take time for my favorite hobby every once in a while. I wasn't upset about lagging on my goal because not being a "winner" makes me sad, I was sad because I know that not regularly engaging in reading is a symptom of a greater part of my life that's been upset.

Needless to say, 2019 left me with a lot of thoughts about how things are going to proceed in the new year, in terms of not only my own personal reading goals, and writing focus, but also how I organize my life to my best advantage, a schedule that makes plenty of room and priority for reading and writing without judgement or hindrance.

---

Whew. Full disclosure: by the time anyone actually reads this post, it will have endured a few rigorous rounds of self-editing, because I'm being very candid about all of this: 2019 brought a lot of good into my life, but it was not my year in a very definitive sense, and that absolutely extends to the kinds of life priorities you see detailed here.

That being said, I am fully prepared to make my happiness - and my reading - a more substantial personal focus in 2020. Here are some of the ways I plan on doing so, as pertain to this blog:

Stop Taking My Own Online Spaces So Seriously 
I spent so much of the last year trying to make something of Playing in the Pages - be it a job-hunting asset, or a potential source of marketable writing material, or a social media boon - I really didn't acknowledge this space has been serving as a very special "something" to me already: my sandbox. I decide what goes here, how it's all built together, and whether it has to mean anything at all. In fact, it totally doesn't! When it comes down to it, some of my favorite blog material - like "Top Ten Tuesdays," personal challenges like "Readchella" or "book blind dates," and all of those damn planner posts - really aren't that marketable or portfolio-worthy, but they're the most fun to write!

And same thing with the Instagram: every second I spend trying to "grow my profile" has been one of abject misery. Once I stopped trying to optimize and filter every day of my presence there, and only really started using it to share things I thought were cool or show what I was spending my time reading, that I had a good experience. Similarly, once I stopped following accounts that made me feel negatively about my own reading abilities, living space, disposable income, etc., I was able to enjoy myself on that platform more.

Enjoy More Bookish Media 
I finally owned up to myself in the past year or so that I don't really love watching movies, and that is still a true statement. I don't like going to movie theaters, and if I binge more than three episodes of television at a time, my eyes will roll up into my head and give my brain a long, hard stare about what the hell it thinks it's doing.

But you know what was one of my favorite movies I watched in the past year? Brooklyn. Not only was it lovely, and emotional, and a testament to the book, but it was something I set out to do with deliberate intention, of watching a great adaptation after I had finished the book. You know what else was great? The Netflix series of A Series of Unfortunate Events. Both were something so out of my normal daily living, that they made a real impression... and I want to keep going.

I've been putting off watching the Good Omens television series, because of how much I dislike watching TV by myself, even though I heard it's great. I've been meaning to re-watch the '90s Secret Garden movie since I planted my garden last Spring, but haven't made the time. My little brother will be reading Pride and Prejudice for the first time this coming year, and I really want to watch the 2005 Keira Knightley version with him before he leaves for college. Adaptations are just as worthy as the stories they're based on, and I want to spend more time enjoying them, too.

Find the Fun in Reading Again 
I think the reason I took to Romance Novels so strongly last year, is because, on the whole, there is no reason for their existence simply beyond making sure their reader devotes a couple of hours out of their regular life and livelihood, to just sit down and enjoy themselves. There is no reason for Romance Novels - as a fluffy, lacy, frilly, guilty pleasure genre on the whole - to exist, beyond their uncanny, innate ability to make people really happy.

I always have fun reading them, but will put them off in favor of "less embarrassing" reading material. They rarely appear, if ever, on my Goodreads lists... but that's absolutely ridiculous. Maybe one of the reasons I've been struggling to hit my bookish stride, is because I'm doing things like this, that undercut my own ability to enjoy what I'm doing.

So, I'm searching for Fun, with a capital "F," in my reading this year. That doesn't mean I'm staying away for deep, meaningful, emotional material... it just means I'm leaving plenty of room for the happiness where I can. That means, reading new subjects in different places, enjoying them with tea, finding even more ways to share them with others, and feeling way less guilty about being pleased. 

Write More, Especially for NaNo 
NaNo 2019 was, as I mentioned, horrible. But it hasn't always been. There have been times when it has been freeing, to be selfish and take an hour to myself to write. It's been inspiring, leading me into new and grander daydreams with flights of fancy to grab hold to when walking around my daily life. NaNo has led to library research, Pinterest mood boards, recipe compilation, and a fair amount of too-long showers that run cold from how much I've been trying to puzzle a plot development out in my head.

The best thing I can do, I think, is write more. Find more time to carve out that place of exploration in my own head, and take charge of it for myself. And, of course, tackle NaNo again in the Fall, with a renewed confidence and a great plot line. 

Keep Free of Self-Judgement, and Look for Happiness Instead 
As someone who regularly has to contend with a lot of guilt, anxiety, fear, second-guessing, and self-destruction in her daily life - I'm Catholic, and the eldest of four siblings, and I am 26 and live at home with my parents and I spend a lot of time with my mom if that explains anything - it's really horrible that any of those negative emotions should end up leaking into the things I love, too. (You'd think that my ability to compartmentalize would come with more waterproof lining.)

So, I'll do my best to keep it out. Chances are, if I'm having trouble reading, then there's something else in my life out of whack; on the flip side, when my life balance starts leaning akimbo, there's nothing that balances me better than taking time to depressurize with a good book. I'll do my best to lean towards the happy. I'll open a blank doc and write something different; I'll walk to the library instead of driving; I'll take a break for a cup of tea, then come back and see if the world looks different, and try again. But I'll always be walking towards happy, if I can help it.


Again, I wasn't really intending for this post to get so personal, but what can I say? It's my first blog post in a while, and the first where I'm really trying to exercise that ability to be less guarded, and more honest with myself. Besides, if you've made it this far, chances are you're my Dad, my brother, or one of the few other trusted folks who've continued to read my blog through much worse than some moody self reflection.

Regardless of the reason as to why you're here, I'm happy you are. Thank you for listening, and I hope that you read some really great books this year.

What did your Year in Books look like in 2019? Have you set any reading intentions for 2020? Let me know, in the comments below!