My year in reading
I used to relish end of year lists, but now I just skim the NYT 100 book list and do my best to keep up with all of the excellent ‘A Year in Reading’ posts at The Millions. I decided to check out my goodreads page and take a look at the books I’ve read this year - a shameful few. And now, because I can’t help myself, I’ve been thinking of that typical December question: what has been the best book I’ve read all year?
I didn’t read many books this year. I started 13 and finished 10 (although, to be fair I’ve got two books I’ll probably finish before the year’s end*). Despite so few books, I read some really great books. A Handmaid’s Tale vs. Invisible Man? Blue Has No South vs. Someday This Will Be Funny vs. The Boat? Then where does that leave Fair Play? And if I finish Where I’m Calling From, I’ll be forced to choose between classics and new classics and then I realize that there are too many to choose.
So will I choose?
No. I can’t. My year in reading this year has been a restoration in my faith, yes, faith in books. I’ve enjoyed my reading. I read for pleasure. Shouldn’t I always? Yes. But I easily get caught in the trap of the Internet, the reviews, the twitter, the whatever. This year, I (mostly) kept to my reading resolution and rediscovered books on my bookshelf that have been waiting patiently to be read - there are quite a few left. I’ve relished this discovery. I enjoy choosing the next one and not thinking about it, letting the leftover emotions guide my choice. Invisible Man was beautiful and intense and I was grateful to follow it with Someday This Will Be Funny but even more grateful to find Fair Play at the library after that. I needed some calmness. And I enjoyed every minute of this ebb and flow.
Now, I’m back with some intensity in Carver’s Where I’m Calling From** and I’ve got some books lined up after that but maybe I’ll read those or maybe I’ll read something else. I’ll see where Carver takes me. And there, in that movement, is my joy.
*That leaves a lonely book I did not finish this year (sorry, Big Machine). I’ve decided that I will not waste my time reading books that I don’t like. That may limit my reading landscape but it makes for a much happier reader.
**Holy shit, this book is awesome. I’ve read a few Carver stories here and there but never a full collection. This book is rekindling the writer in me. I do not want this book to end. It will. I know it will. And then I know I will have to write again.
