READ ALL ABOUT IT
Since 2012, I’ve been writing about books. And the act of reading. And the importance of story and narrative. But, mostly, the underlying theme of all I write is how taking a moment to stop and digest some longform text — instead of scrolling, instead of watching a video, instead of multitasking — can be one of the most grounding things we can do for ourselves. Here’s the one-stop online home for all this writing.
You can read more about me and my work by moseying over here. Want to peruse periodic “essay drops” — excerpts from my work-in-progress essay collection about Homesickness? Here ya go.
Moon Tiger
Once in a while, I’ll come across a video of an over-the-top church service. The latest is a pastor making his “stage entrance” via makeshift rollercoaster. Okaaay! Welcome to the commodification of something sacred. “Commodifying” something is maybe just another way of saying “treating as a finite good” or perhaps “cheapening something into a more digestible state.”
Playground
I was a pool rat when I was a kid, and each decade since childhood, I’ve faithfully returned to the water — albeit often with yearrrrrs in between. Each reinstallation of the Swimming Routine summons (faux) existential angst about things like buying a new lock, new cap, new goggles; understanding the ins and outs of the location (like the time I was convinced I was “locked out” of the pool but it was just that I was a whole hour early for open swim…cue me banging on the door like a lunatic until I just decided to sit in the sauna 🫠🥵), wondering if muscle memory will take over. (It always does.)
The Women Behind the Door
Sometimes I feel like I grew up as a reader in tandem with Roddy Doyle’s journey as a writer. In college, my parents gave me Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha, Doyle’s 1993 Booker-winning novel. I was mesmerized by the cover and even more mesmerized by the dialogue (some of which was hard for me to decipher).
The Heaven & Earth Grocery Store
Today I found myself perusing a Reddit thread about learning to weave, which…YOLO! (Yes, I have a weird desire to learn to weave. Weave what? Idk. But I loved bringing home a loom from Blue Birds when I was a kid, and for several months I’ve been wanting to learn a hands-on hobby to tap into a different part of the creative brain.)
Clear
The stories we make up about others, about circumstances, about ourselves, even, when we are in need of connection and comfort. That is, in sum, what Clear by Carys Davies is about.
James / So Much Blue
After finishing my third and fourth Percival Everett novels — prior to James and So Much Blue, pictured, I had read The Trees and Erasure — I am convinced that this author of 34 books (!) should be considered one of America’s greatest novelists and also that his work should be taught in high schools. (Not everyone would like that last take, I am absolutely certain…) I’m repeatedly surprised at how successfully he can make a very readable book (so much more “readable” than I think people might suspect) completely erudite and subversive at the same time. Not to mention super funny.
Prophet Song
Have you ever had an intensely negative visceral reaction to a book?
I wouldn’t normally say publicly if I did, but Prophet Song by Paul Lynch (which just won the Booker) is my answer.
Night Watch
With any crisis where one might feel somewhat removed, it takes a lot of self-imposed effort to (attempt to) understand what it’s really “like” to be in the center of it — whether that be due to time (a historical event) or location or any other seeming lack of connection with events. I find that bothersome (and I mean that about myself as well), but I suppose that’s human nature. We covet, crave, and glom on to what we know and what is familiar. I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately.
I Am Homeless If This is Not My Home
When you read something that sounds an awful lot like something you’d actively avoid — man takes his dead ex-girlfriend (who is now a zombie of sorts?) on a long road trip — but it’s coming from someone like Lorrie Moore…
Trust
What makes a book “very readable”?
A Book Prize From Those Behind Bars: Goncourt des détenus
As always, I’m spending too much brain space on this notion of celebrities becoming book pushers. So this NYT article from a couple of weeks ago was a nice change-up. The Prix Goncourt is France’s version of the Booker or the Pulitzer, but in some ways it might be more akin to being bestowed the Oprah stamp of approval: The monetary prize is only €10, but the payoff in book sales is considerable.
Seven Empty Houses
First book of 2023: FIN. (To be fair, I had literally 3 pages left when I put it down yesterday. What is my problem.) Seven Empty Houses, by Samanta Schweblin, translated by Megan McDowell.
Curiosity > Accomplishment
Ahh, New Year’s Eve…the dawn of a New Life ™️. I truly love Jan. 1 — clean slate, fresh start — and do spend time thinking about how I’d like the impending year to unfold. Or rather, how I’d like to respond to how the year unfolds. I love a good quantifiable challenge —which, let’s face it, is what most people’s resolutions are — but I’m more interested in how an outcome might shape my outlook on life instead of just “I lost 5 pounds.” (Or, to tie in to this account: “I read 1,000 books.”)
Demon Copperhead
Ohhhhhh….I really wanted to lovelovelove Demon Copperhead, by the beloved Barbara Kingsolver. I did like her much-anticipated novel (very much so), a retelling of Dickens’ David Copperfield. It’s the ultimate “Bildungsroman,” as readers follow protagonist Damon (nickname Demon) from the first line (“First, I got myself born.”) to young adulthood set (mostly) amidst Lee County, Virginia — just one area in the middle of a pigeonholed-for-all-the-wrong-reasons region.
Foster
Ok. So I should just go ahead and read everything that Claire Keegan has written, correct? (Correct.)
Horse
Coming in strong in the #FictionIsRelevant game: Horse, by Geraldine Brooks.
Homesick
Homesick is a memoir by the writer and translator Jennifer Croft. (She won the Man Booker International Prize in 2018 for her translation of Flights, by Olga Tokarczuk.) If I had to use just two words to review it I’d say, “Mic drop.” (Alternate reasoning: If I were Michael Scott and tasked with reviewing books.) I’m not trying to be glib, but if ever there were a time to use “mic drop” in full sincerity, it would be in reference to this book, a memoir/”real-life novel” with photographic elements. I’m truly amazed by it. (As is the pooch, apparently.)
Tinkers
Tinkers by Paul Harding: A quiet, poetic, and pensive book that reminded (and assured?) me that these qualities can still “win” even in a world that prizes brashness, boastfulness, and rigid opinion. (I mean, it really did win…it won the Pulitzer in 2010.)
MetroWest Readers Fest to spotlight books by Framingham State University professor Jennifer De Leon
MetroWest Daily News
A Book Event with MetroWest Readers Fest founder Amy Wilson Sheldon and author Jennifer De Leon
Apeirogon
In college I took an art history class – for fun, I guess, since I don’t think it fulfilled any requirement. I traipsed over to the Museum of Fine Arts one Saturday with my friend Keith because I had to write a paper on Rothko. I did, and I managed to make it a 10-page paper. Not a BS paper, which I’m sure some would like to think. No, it was actually a magnificent afternoon at the MFA as Keith and I spent about an hour talking about just one solitary painting because nothing in this artist’s work is straightforward, despite surface simplicity. Rothko is tricky like that.
