Last summer, I gave myself some much-needed permission in the form of an imperative: I will read promiscuously.
It was such a success that I decided to do it again this summer.
(To be fair, I’m a pretty rangy, voracious reader all year-round, a left-over from my early adolescent days of picking up whatever cover happened to catch my eye. But summer’s the only season where I allow myself to read as much genre (this summer, mostly horror and romance) as I want, without break. Throughout the rest of the year, I enforce a more respectable balance.)
Here’s most of what I indulged in this summer…
June
—Ninth House, Leigh Bardugo - Recommended by a friend whose suggestions I love, this had been on my list for a while, and wowza, SURPRISE! I loved it. Smart, haunted, misunderstood protagonist up against the big machine of university secret societies? I am ALL in.
—Floaters, Martin Espada - If you like lyric, narrative, socially aware poetry, this is for you. I cried at least twice. But I also laughed, because Espada’s voice and keen vision catch plenty of humor alongside the pathos.
—Like Happiness, Ursula Villareal-Moura - I interviewed Ursula about her life as a writer, and about her debut novel, for The Lives of Writers: LISTEN HERE.
—Hell Bent, Leigh Bardugo - All I can say is: WHEN IS THE THIRD ONE COMING?
—My Year of Meats, Ruth Ozeki - I stumbled upon a copy of Ozeki’s debut novel (from way back in 1998) and once I read the first page, I didn’t want to stop. It’s very 1990s, and I mean that as a compliment. Socially aware in a way that is somehow both outlandish and sly, and funny, alongside a narrator I wished I knew in real life.
—Time is a Mother, Ocean Vuong - “Maybe,/ like you, I was one of those people/ who loves the world most/ when I’m rock-bottom in my fast car/ going nowhere.”
July
—Craft: Stories I Wrote for the Devil, Ananda Lima - Perhaps my favorite read this summer? (I dunno, it’s hard to choose.) I’m a big fan of Lima’s poetry, and her fiction debut is OUT OF THIS WORLD. Devoured it in a couple days, and will definitely be re-reading. The stories link together and reverb off of one another and create something deliciously, delightfully strange.
—Picture This: How Pictures Work, Molly Bang - Highly recommend this fun and sometimes funny exploration of how we perceive shape and color in the world around us. Simple enough for a young audience, but complex enough to capture an adult’s attention.
—Always Matt: A Tribute the Matthew Shepard, Leslea Newman - A moving and thoughtful depiction of Matthew Shepard, focusing on Matt as a person rather than as a victim of a horrific hate crime. The photos and words work seamlessly to tell his life story.
—Learning in Mrs. Towne’s House, Tzivia Gover - Tzivia created the Poetry Program at The Care Center (the program I am currently running) and wrote this absorbing book about it: part history, part memoir, part guide to teaching poetry. Zipped through it while I was bed-ridden with a case of the covid. (My office is haunted!)
—Ninth Street Women: Lee Krasner, Elaine de Kooning, Grace Hartigan, Joan Mitchell, and Helen Frankenthaler: Five Painters and the Movement That Changed Modern Art, Mary Gabriel - This one took me a couple months to get through (it clocks in at 700-ish pages, without the notes and index etc.) and it did have some biography “tics” that I didn’t love, but overall, the book is tremendously rich and informative and I wish it had been around to read when I lived on West 8th Street way back when. So many personalities, so many landmarks, so many paintings. (Suggested movie pairing: Pollack.)
—The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires, Grady Hendrix - After reading My Best Friend’s Exorcism and We Sold Our Souls last summer, I came to Slaying Vampires excited and it did not disappoint. It’s got a great 90s vibe, a pack of kick-ass suburban moms, and a clear-eyed appraisal of race relations in South Carolina; also, it’s CREEPY! (Suggested movie pairing: Interview with a Vampire.)
August
—How to Sell a Haunted House, Grady Hendrix - Though I am not typically bothered by haunted house stories, I found this by far the scariest of Hendrix’s novels. Like, I’d be laughing out loud, and then terrified to turn out the lights. After I finished it, I had a nightmare that all of my kids’ Squishmallows came to life. When I told them about the dream, my youngest said, “Did they have blood on their teeth?” 😳
—The Love Hypothesis, Ali Hazelwood - I didn’t like this as much as I loved Love, Theoretically, but it has many of the things I adore in a Hazelwood book: lots of science, a non-romantic view of academia, a smart, prickly heroine and a dude who prefers her that way.
—Field Theories, Samiya Bashir - Oh, this book! A jazz-infused exploration of Americana and America that showcases Bashir’s singular voice and vision. Take some time with this one, and let it wash over you.
—Slow Dance, Rainbow Rowell - When I bought this I joked to the bookseller that I was so excited that I was going to have to restrain myself from reading in the car. And I did like it, a lot, as I often do Rowell’s books. A fresh take on the second-chance romance trope, this did move… well, slowly, but it’s a satisfying slow build toward something like happiness (and I mean this in an IRL way, not a romance novel way).
—The Final Girl Support Group, Grady Hendrix - First time I’ve ever cried at the end of a horror novel (though if I were being persnickety, I’d shelve this with the thrillers), because it is such a spot-on portrayal of what it is like to live with unprocessed trauma. Call me a Grady Hendrix fangirl—I already preordered his next book, which comes out in January—and I am counting the days.
—When Fox is a Thousand, Larissa Lai - Another 90s title, now out of print, which is a shame. Lai’s deft weaving of three story lines, and her strange origami folding of time is pretty remarkable. And, honestly, let’s be real: 1990s heroines are the best heroines. (Suggested movie pairing: 10 Things I Hate about You.)
If you’ve made it this far, I’ll leave you with a silly personal anecdote: On Steve’s and my third date, while we were hanging out in my apartment, drinking mint juleps (my former favorite summer beverage), I said (out loud, it seems), “Want to help me reaarange my bookshelves by publication date?” Reader, he said YES!
And we lived happily ever after.
LOL!
Here’s what happily ever after looks like over here: Many moons—and organizational systems—have passed, and we’re back to alphabetical, separated into rough genres (fiction, nonfiction, poetry, craft books, art books, kids books). (JK—the kids books aren’t alphabetical, unless they’ve got some anarchist alphabet I know nothing about.)
Thank you, Sara! Loved reading this!