Here’s what I’m reading right now (check out Good Reads for some of my thoughts once I’m done!):
One of my dearest friends has been wooing me to Bonhoeffer for nearly two years, and I’ve finally decided to give him a try. I think I am afraid of his honesty, and knowing how his life turned out fills me with a sense of awe. I’m only about one chapter in – every time I sit down to read it, I have a pen in my hand, ready to mark whatever shouts at me. There’s too much, really, and I get overwhelmed. It’s the sort of book that needs to be read with others, I think. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so flounder-y.
I got another Ruth Reichl book for Christmas, and I’m finally starting it. I really enjoy her stuff because she’s a straight-forward writer. Mostly, though, I like how she loves so many things (obviously, being a food critic, food is a huge priority), and that’s how I feel my writing/life is too. I can’t write without incorporating all the things I love and appreciate about life, and Reichl shows me one way to do that well.
I bought this book for my cousin, but thankfully my mom thinks along the same lines and bought a copy for my sister, too. I snagged it (my sister’s a little busy these days) and I’m really enjoying it. This girl is funny. And relatable. The picture on the back is enough to make you take pity on the poor adolescent. I’m not too far in yet, but I’m interested to see how she deals with things like body image, self-confidence, and growing up, and all in a humorous way.
So after finishing a contemporary novel (Anne Lamott’s Imperfect Birds), I scanned the shelves near my bed and came across this: Charles Dickens’s A Tale of Two Cities. I’m embarrassed to say that I was able to complete a Bachelor’s in English having read only two Dickens in my life (Great Expectations and Our Mutual Friend). I decided it was time to bite the bullet – to read Dickens by choice. [Who are we kidding? This poor book lies by my bed every night, begging me to pick it up. Ugh. Maybe this summer.]
INTRODUCING THE NEW LOVE OF MY POETIC HEART. I’m embarrassed to say that I had never read Rilke until a few weeks ago. His name had circulated around me, in one ear and out the other. I even bought Letters to a Young Poet as a prize for a poetry contest winner when I was Editor of my college’s literary magazine (but I haven’t read it still myself). He’s the kind of poet I’ll feel like quoting a lot.
Still plugging away on this one. (Well, honestly, I haven’t picked it up in awhile. Just not in the mood for court intrigue. I’ll get there.)
And here’s what I’ve already read this year, 2013:
Blink – Malcolm Gladwell
Are Women Human? – Dorothy L. Sayers
Wild – Cheryl Strayed
Does This Church Make Me Look Fat? – Rhoda Janzen
Circling to the Center – Susan M. Tiberghien
Imperfect Birds – Anne Lamott
The Alchemist – Paulo Coelho
Bel Canto – Ann Patchett
Book of Common Prayer – Joan Didion
Slouching Towards Bethlehem – Joan Didion
The Year of Magical Thinking – Joan Didion
Blue Nights – Joan Didion
The Dirty Life – Kristin Kimball
The Four Loves – C. S. Lewis
Surprised by Joy – C. S. Lewis
Stiffed – Susan Faludi
Cinderella Ate My Daughter – Peggy Orenstein
I’m a Stranger Here Myself – Bill Bryson