I’m still totally jazzed about reading and books and stuff, despite the seemingly endless continued continuation of Circumstances. I’m also jazzed about talking about reading and books and stuff. I’m also also jazzed about finding new books to read and stuff. Therefore, I’m posting the recently-or-close-enough-to-recently released books on my As Of Right Now (Meaning 6:58 PM On Sunday, June 30th) Summer Reading List (Subject To Shift, Change, And/Or Especially Probably Expand As Soon As 6:59 PM On Sunday, June 30th). I’m posting this in the hope that you, Gentle Blog Visitor, will also be jazzed about reading one or more of the books on this As Of Right Now List, and that you would also be jazzed and willing to talk about them. I’m also posting this in the hope that you, Gentle Blog Visitor, can help this list expand — I’m always looking for new reads, especially ones that others are totally jazzed about.
My As Of Right Now (Meaning 6:58 PM On Sunday, June 30th) Summer Reading List (Subject To Shift, Change, And/Or Especially Probably Expand As Soon As 6:59 PM On Sunday, June 30th)
Fuse by Julianna Baggott: Okay, I’m kind of cheating with this one, so I figured I’d put it first as a warning: this blog entry, as a whole, is probably going to be a disappointment. Sorry. But I do have my reasons for posting this, which are mostly related to a heartfelt desire to find other fans of the Pure trilogy willing to FREAK OUT EXTREMELY about how amazing these books are. I mean, SERIOUSLY. I can’t even LANGUAGE.
Let’s Explore Diabetes with Owls by David Sedaris: I’m cheating here, too. Sorry. I’m a little more than halfway through this book, though I must admit that I’m making my way through it very, very slowly. It just doesn’t seem as Sedarisish as other Sedaris books, and I love some Sedarisishness. Still, it has been a very educational read. For instance, I just finished one essay (which did seem to have some relatively Sedarisish moments) called “Laugh, Kookaburra,” through which I discovered that a kookaburra looks like this:
Which was a good lesson, since I though a kookaburra looked like this:
Also, my dad says there’s an essay about how good colonoscopy drugs are, which seems both ultimately Sedarishish and very, very accurate.
Bobcat and Other Stories by Rebecca Lee: The cheating, as you may have guessed, is a running theme. I’ve read the main story in this sure-to-be-too-awesome-to-language collection in the single-story-book from Madras Press. Actually, you should follow that link and buy all of their books. I’ll wait. Are you back? Good. Anyway, it’s basically the most beautifully written story ever, and I want everyone to read it so we can talk about the sentence about supping. And because Rebecca Lee is the kind of writer who defines brilliance. Also, Oprah wants you to read it, and are you going to disobey Oprah? I didn’t think so.
Clearly Now, the Rain: A Memoir of Love and Other Trips by Eli Hastings: I actually haven’t cheated when it comes to this item, but that doesn’t make it any less exciting. From what I’ve seen, it’s an eloquent exploration of Hastings’ friendship with a woman named Serala, who’s painted in layered strokes in all of her complexity. If it’s anything like Hastings’ Falling Room, we’re in for a gorgeously constructed trip.
Safe in Your Head by Laura Valeri: I have been lucky enough to hear Valeri read from this collection, so I guess I have cheated here, too. But it’s a good kind of cheating because it means I can say this: if you can hear Valeri read, do it. She brings new life to already-jumping-off-the-page-with-life stories. I can’t wait to crack open this collection, about an Italian family who emigrates to America to escape the Red Brigades’ movement.
We Come Elemental by Tamiko Beyer: I’m stoked-beyond-stoked for this and the next book on the list. Pick up any literary journal, and you’ll find Tamiko Beyer just freaking killing it with her poems. Every single time, she shows language who’s boss, and language is glad to be bossed. A masterful poet whose work is finally gathered in a collection.
Mezzanines by Matthew Olzmann: Take what I said about the stoked and the literary journals and the freaking killing it with poems above, and repeat, with Matthew Olzmann’s name. Olzmann’s poems feel more traditional in form, but they also feel as though Olzmann shows traditional form that he is the boss and traditional form is thanking him. As it should.
Red Doc by Anne Carson: So, I’ve actually had this book for a long time, I just haven’t read it. Or, well, I’ve read bits and pieces of it, and those bits and pieces are crazy. Like, Anne Carson crazy, which means crazy in an oh-no-she-didn’t-holy-crap-she-DID-and-it-was-AWESOME kind of way. Let’s all just be honest and admit that none of us understand Anne Carson, and we probably won’t. And that’s okay. I remember reading an interview in which Carson says that none of us will ever understand God, and that’s okay, because the fact that none of us will understand God is one of the things that makes God God. Think about that for a minute. I mean, RIGHT? And that’s how I feel about Anne Carson.
Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail by Cheryl Strayed: No, I haven’t read Dear Sugar’s book yet. And no, I’m not caught up when it comes to the Dear Sugar column on The Rumpus. I’m not even caught up on The Rumpus. I don’t have one of those Write Like An [Expletive Deleted] mugs like all the cool kids do. I’ve had things to do, okay? Important things. Really important things. Like, educating the youth of America and writing books and learning how to crochet granny squares. Okay, maybe not that last part. I’ll read Dear Sugar’s book, okay? God. Thanks for the peer pressure.
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