Reading is my oldest and favorite hobby.  I literally can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t love to curl up with a good book.  Here are my reads for May, 2016…

The Regional Office is Under Attack!, by Manuel Gonzales – I picked up this comedic thriller about butt-kicking, possibly sort of superpowered, female assassins on the recommendation of Rebecca from the All the Books! podcast.  The premise was a lot of fun and it was certainly action-packed, but ultimately, The Regional Office is Under Attack! left me cold.  I struggled with the perspective-shifting and found some of the characters incredibly grating.  And the violence wasn’t my cup of tea, either.

Parenting with Love and Logic, by Foster Cline and Jim Kay – I’ve been trying to avoid parenting books since I OD’ed on them last spring, but my pediatrician recommended this one, so I gave it a try.  It did make some sense, and I’ve been trying out the recommended techniques with some mild success (but toddlers will be toddlers, you know).  The main premise is that giving little kids choices helps them hone their decision-making abilities and empowers them, which I believe in – the trick, which makes perfect sense but which I didn’t really consider, is to make sure that you offer choices that you can live with no matter what the kid decides to do.  Some of the suggestions for behavior correction won’t work for us because Peanut’s room currently doesn’t have a door, but when that eventually changes, I’ll revisit the tips for dealing with tantrums.  All in all, a decent parenting book.  I’m still cool on the genre, though.

 The Summer Before the War, by Helen Simonson – I haven’t read Simonson’s other book, Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand, although I own a copy and hope to get to it soon.  Major Pettigrew has been popular for awhile, and I know that Simonson’s new novel was hotly anticipated by many Anglophile readers.  I devoured it (and it’s a chunkster!) and really loved it.  The story of two cousins, Daniel and Hugh, and their friendship with the new female Latin mistress at their aunt’s country school, was charming and moving.  Daniel and Aunt Agatha irritated me a bit at first, but they quickly grew on me and I adored them both by the end.  As for Hugh, Beatrice, and Celeste, they charmed me instantly.  I can’t recommend The Summer Before the War highly enough, and I look forward to reading more from Simonson.

 Elizabeth and Her German Garden, by Elizabeth von Arnim – After reading and loving The Enchanted April, I downloaded another von Arnim (hurray for free classics on iBooks!) – the popular Elizabeth and Her German Garden.  An autobiographical novel, Elizabeth follows the title character through all four seasons in the garden she loves more than anything.  I adored the beautiful descriptive writing – von Arnim evokes every season with beauty and glory – but didn’t love the book itself.  Elizabeth’s marriage to “the Man of Wrath” made me sad, and her life seemed so empty and bleak – despite having piles of money, a beautiful estate, and three sweet babies.  What more could you want for?  And yet, I felt she was deeply unhappy throughout the entire book, and it left me sad and confused.  (And distracted, trying to figure out which parts were true to von Arnim’s life and which were poetic license.)  I plan to read more von Arnim – including the two Elizabeth sequels – but I can’t say that Elizabeth and Her German Garden is going to become a favorite.

 Everyone Brave is Forgiven, by Chris Cleave – Another hot new historical fiction release, Everyone Brave is Forgiven was said to be based on letters exchanged between the author’s grandparents during World War II.  I’d heard quite a lot of hype and was excited to pick it up.  It was well-written and engaging, and I think fans of historical fiction and World War II would find a lot to like in here – I certainly did.  But I was bothered by some of the language.  Mary, the female protagonist, works as a teacher in London during the war, and she takes under her wing a handful of children of color after one young evacuee returns to London due to bullying in his village.  Mary’s devotion to her young students is touching, but I was bothered by the racist language that the characters – even Mary – use from time to time, and by the descriptions of the minstrel show in which the children live.  I suppose the language was true to life, but Cleave invented that part of the story – it wasn’t based on his grandmother’s life – and I didn’t think it was necessary to use such demeaning language.  I’m afraid it rather destroyed my enjoyment of the book.

 Heat and Light, by Jennifer Haigh – Haigh is always a winner for me, and especially her Bakerton books.  I’ve read and loved Baker Towers and News from Heaven, so when I learned that Haigh had a new Bakerton book coming out, I was delighted and I immediately requested it from the library.  Heat and Light returns to Bakerton, which is a ghost town after the last of the big mines has closed – until natural gas is discovered underneath the surrounding fields.  Soon Bakerton is on the energy industry’s map again, and oil and gas giants are vying for their share of the riches in the rock.  In Heat and Light we see some old friends and meet some newcomers, and I found myself drawn back into the town as I have been with Haigh’s previous novels.  Heat and Light wasn’t my favorite of the Bakerton books, but any Bakerton book is a good Bakerton book.  Recommended.

 Good Behaviour, by Molly Keane – This was one of those “what to read if you’re still grieving the end of Downton Abbey” recommendations.  Good Beahviour, which is probably Molly Keane’s most well-known book, follows the tribulations (no triumphs) of an aristocratic Irish family in decline.  Money is trickling out of every edifice of the St. Charles family’s stately home, it’s impossible to find good help, and soon the family will be left with nothing but their icily impeccable manners.  Much like Henry Green’s Loving, which I read a few years ago, something about this book just didn’t ring right for me.  It was well-written, but I couldn’t love it despite my best efforts.  Still looking for that perfect book to scratch the post-Downton itch.

There we have it – a bit of a slow month in May, and June isn’t looking any snappier.  But I did read some good books – Heat and Light was a highlight, as was The Summer Before the War, and if I had a few flops the rest of the month, well, that’s to be expected.  June promises more library reading as I continue to try to work my way through the stack and fight against urges to play outside instead of reading in my limited free time.  I do have some fun picks on deck for June, so stay tuned for more recommendations.

What did you read last month?

While I think that it’s incredibly important to expose my kids to stories that describe, and images that illustrate, the particular experiences of people who are different from them, there’s also a place – an important place – for incidental diversity.  A story that simply presents diverse characters in a matter-of-fact way, without making their differences a focal point, can go a long way toward introducing young readers to the concept that, while differences are to be celebrated, there’s also plenty that unites us.  So while I make a point of buying books for my kids that are more open in their portrayals of diversity, I also look out for books with incidental diversity – where diversity is present in the illustrations, perhaps, but is not the focal point.  Through these books I hope that my children learn that while a person’s racial or gender identity is an important part of their personhood and life experience, those things are not all there is to an individual.  We are all so beautifully complex.

Whose Tools? and Whose Truck?, by Toni Buzzeo and Jim Dotz, are perfect examples of books that do incidental diversity well.  In fact, that’s why I bought them – I read a review of Whose Tools? in the “Shelf Awareness for Readers” newsletter, which mentioned, delightfully, that the book featured male and female characters of different races, wearing appropriate safety gear.  That was all I needed to know; I was adding Whose Tools? to my Amazon cart less than thirty seconds later.  And when Whose Truck? followed in time for the holidays, I put in a special call to Santa to make sure it was among Nugget’s presents.

Both Whose Tools? and Whose Truck? pose riddles that ask children to guess who a particular set of tools – or vehicle, as the case may be – belong to.  After each question, a flap opens and the answer is revealed, along with a simple explanation of the job in question.

In Whose Tools?, the neighborhood craftsmen and women combine their skills to build a house for a family.  The mason lays bricks, the carpenter readies the window frames, the roofer nails shingles, and more.

The “Shelf Awareness for Readers” newsletter was spot on – the characters in the illustrations are wonderfully diverse.  There are female roofers and carpenters – because girls can do anything!, which is an important lesson for both my daughter and my son to internalize – and there are faces of all different colors and ages.  The races of the characters are never mentioned outright, because what’s important – for this story, that is – is the pride they all take in their jobs.

Whose Truck? is similar, and just as delightful.  Again, the illustrations show characters of all ages and races, and there are both male and female characters (most of which are performing traditional male jobs – fist pumps for girls who drive a crane truck just as well as the boys!) and, once again, all wearing proper safety gear!  The book follows the same riddle and answer format, and the lilting rhymes are a joy to read aloud.

Whose Tools? and Whose Truck? are relatively recent additions to our family library – only within the last year or so – but they’re already favorites.  Peanut loves the books just as much as Nugget does, which makes my heart sing.  Girl power!  Mom loves the simple, fresh way that things like race, age and sex/gender are presented as only one part of a complete human being.  As for Nugget…

Nugget loves trucks.  And if you have a truck-loving kid in your life, both Whose Tools? and Whose Truck? are sure to please.

What diverse stories are you reading aloud this month?

Greenbanks, by Dorothy Whipple, opens on Christmas.  The Ashton family has gathered at Greenbanks, the family seat, for the holiday.  There are the grown Ashton children – abrasive Jim; lovable black sheep Charles; trembling Letty and her imperious husband Ambrose; and spoiled baby of the family Laura.  There are the Ashton grandchildren – including four-year-old Rachel, most beloved of the group.  And they’re all gathered around Robert and Louisa, the matriarch and patriarch of the family.  On the surface, they appear to be a close-knit family, but the fractures and cracks in the veneer are almost visible.

Robert is a philanderer.  Everyone knows – Louisa included – and everyone turns a blind eye – Louisa especially.  Jim is constantly at war with Charles, whom he considers to be a no-good layabout.  (Louisa adores her boy and doesn’t see it at all – and personally, I found Charles lovable and Jim irritating, so I’m on Louisa’s side here.)  Letty, who wanted nothing more than to marry a man who was “solid” – everything her father, with his roving eye , is not – is now trapped in a loveless marriage and growing more spineless by the day, as Ambrose seeks to control everything his wife and daughter do in the name of propriety.  And Laura is on the verge of great happiness but is destined to throw it away in a fit of spite.

As picturesque as their Christmas appears, change is coming to the Ashton family.  It starts when Robert is thrown from his carriage while out with a young lady.  Louisa is widowed (and probably secretly a little relieved) but she remains the heart of the family.  But more change is coming – the Great War shakes the family to its foundations.  Louisa convinces an old friend of Letty and Laura’s – Kate Barlow – to join her as a companion, because she blames herself for Kate’s spectacular fall from society after being seduced by an older, married man.  Jim and Ambrose contrive to ship Charles off for distant lands twice, until he finally puts an end to their machinations by volunteering to serve his King in the armed forces.  Rachel grows into an intelligent, joyful young woman, but her father’s antiquated notions of what is proper for a woman threaten to stamp out her future before it even begins.

There are births, deaths, money lost and gained, loves parted and reunited, and at the heart of it all is an old woman struggling to remain relevant to her fracturing family, and the granddaughter who is her most beloved and the face of the family’s future.  Some characters get happy endings; others don’t – it’s like life that way, you see?

I can’t tell you how much I adored Greenbanks.  It’s one of those quiet novels in which nothing happens except people living their lives, being born and dying, and yet it is completely, utterly, all-encompassingly gripping.  I could not put the book down until I knew what was going to happen to each and every one of the Ashtons.  I raged when Ambrose tried to deny Rachel an education.  I sobbed when Louisa had to say goodbye to Charles (picturing my own Nugget, all grown up and leaving for another country, and no idea when I would see him again) and I sobbed again when he unexpectedly returned home, only to be driven away again.  I wanted to slap Jim and Ambrose and to shake the spite out of Laura.  I hoped extra hard for a happy ending for Kate.  But the true genius of the story is in Whipple’s characterization of Louisa and Rachel.  How often do you find a novel focused on the relationship between a grandmother and granddaughter in which both characters are so completely vivid and real and alive?  Watching Rachel grow up on the page, and watching Louisa love her, was one of the best reading experiences I’ve ever had.

Why don’t more people read Dorothy Whipple?  Why isn’t she better known?  (Greenbanks is the only Whipple stocked by my library system – which I suppose means I’ll have to place a Persephone order for some more.)  There were funny moments, certainly, but Greenbanks was not a funny book – or at least, it was no funnier than life itself.  (And life really isn’t all that funny.)  Whipple drew me so completely into the world of Greenbanks and its surrounding village that I felt like I was an Ashton – the characterization, and the set writing, were so spot on that I knew from the first chapter I was reading the work of a master.  Highly recommended to everyone and their mom.  Read it again and again and again.

Have you read any Dorothy Whipple?  Which of her other novels should I read next?

Reading is my oldest and favorite hobby.  I literally can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t love to curl up with a good book.  Here are my reads for April, 2016…

 What Is Not Yours Is Not Yours, by Helen Oyeyemi – This was my first Oyeyemi, and it was certainly creative.  As is par for the course with me and short stories, I liked some of the stories more than others.  The quality was evenly good; I just take a little while to connect to a narrative sometimes, and short stories don’t always work for me for that reason.  But as short stories go, this was an engaging, creative volume.

Men Explain Things To Me, by Rebecca Solnit – This was one of those reads that I think should be required for everyone.  It’s a slim volume containing a selection of Solnit’s essays on feminism and other topics, including the title piece, “Men Explain Things To Me,” which starts out humorous but soon becomes much more serious as Solnit explores the ways in which women’s voices are silenced.  “Men Explain Things To Me” is widely credited with first articulating the phenomenon of “mansplaining,” although Solnit doesn’t use the word itself – but she certainly describes it accurately.  I’ve been “mansplained” to, and it is one of the most irritating, demeaning experiences – but I had never considered that I was being silenced as well as annoyed.  Lots of thought-provoking stuff here.

 Very British Problems: Making Life Awkward for Ourselves, One Rainy Day at a Time, by Rob Temple – I’m a huge fan of Temple’s Very British Problems twitter account, and can often be heard reading his tweets aloud to Steve.  This book is basically the Twitter account in print form, so a quick read.  It’s a bit redundant and repeats a lot of the same jokes that can be found on Twitter, but it’s good fun – and especially after just finishing a Very Serious Read.

 Diary of a Provincial Lady, by E.M. Delafield – I loved, loved, LOVED everything about this side-splitting romp through the life of a provincial wife and mother in 1930s England.  Behind the staid title is an absolutely hilarious, completely brilliant comedy of the trials and errors of an interwar housewife.  She is constantly beleaguered by her husband, neighbors, houseguests and servants, not to mention by children who – adorable that they may be – have a tendency to play pop records on repeat, appear in the nude before company, and ask for a banana at the most inopportune moments.  She may be broke and terrible at gardening, but the Provincial Lady is my favorite diarist.  (This is a series, and I can’t wait to read more.)

The Story of Hong Gildong, by Unknown – Hong Gildong is the son of a high government minister, but having been born to a maid in the minister’s house, he will never be able to hold high office himself, or even be acknowledged as a member of the family.  After his father’s concubine tries to have him assassinated, Hong Gildong runs away and uses his superpowers (because why not?) to become the Robin Hood-esque leader of a band of outlaws, then moves on to taking over small countries (because again, why not?).  Hong Gildong is a famous figure who has inspired many a movie and cartoon in Korea, but I’d never heard of him before Penguin Classics published a new translation of this classic.  Since I’m trying to broaden my reading horizons this year, I picked it up, and it was enjoyable.

 Kindred, by Octavia Butler – A blog reader recommended Kindred to me when I first switched from food blogging to book blogging, and I filed away the recommendation accordingly but just recently got to it.  Dana is a modern (well, 1970s) black woman who is suddenly, and unnervingly, jerked out of her time and deposited in antebellum Maryland, where she promptly saves the life of the plantation owner’s young son.  Dana and the boy, Rufus, have an inexplicable connection that causes Dana to travel unwillingly back and forth in time each time Rufus needs to be rescued, but as Dana’s visits to the past become longer and more dangerous, it becomes less clear that she will be able to complete her mission in the past and get home to a relatively more civilized era.  This was a harrowing, brilliant, upsetting and engrossing read – highly recommended, but not for the faint of heart.

Honey for a Child’s Heart: The Imaginative Use of Books in Family Life, by Gladys Hunt – I was underwhelmed by this volume, which came highly recommended by the hosts of a reading aloud podcast that I enjoy.  I don’t love parenting books that pound me over the head with a Jesus-shaped hammer, and this one did.  Plus – now, it’s possible I had an outdated version; the library copy was pretty old – I bristled at the author’s describing “a wife’s job” as an unnecessary or extraneous “activity” that may need to make way for a reading aloud habit to form.  Sorry, G, but not all of us are able to quit our jobs to make more time for reading aloud.  Verdict: skip this one and make use of the great free resources you can find online, if you’re looking for tips and recommendations for reading aloud to kids.

An Irish Country Doctor (Irish Country #1), by Patrick Taylor – This was a fun, gentle, amusing visit with Dr. Barry Laverty, apprentice doctor in the Northern Ireland village of Ballybucklebo.  Barry arrives in town and takes up a job (with the offer of full partnership in a year – wish law firms worked that way!) as assistant doctor, and quickly learns that his newfangled medical notions and all his studying will only get him so far with this crowd.  I found Barry a little insufferable (okay, a lot insufferable) but I think he’ll improve with time.  As I mentioned in one of my Monday reading posts, doctor stories aren’t my cup of tea (I’m not a fan of medical shows, either) but this one wasn’t too bad.  I still would have preferred if the main characters were a vicar and curate, though!

Greenbanks, by Dorothy Whipple – How had I never read any Dorothy Whipple before?  Well, I know how – she’s not exactly well-known.  But I don’t think I’ve read a better English interwar family drama than Greenbanks, Whipple’s chronicle of the life and times of the Ashtons of Greenbanks.  There is Louisa, matriarch of the family, staring down the fact that she is becoming increasingly obsolete; Rachel, Louisa’s favorite granddaughter; Charles, youngest son, black sheep of the family and his mother’s darling; Kate, Louisa’s companion, around whom a deep sadness hangs; Letty, Rachel’s mother, who is regretting her marriage; Ambrose, Letty’s imperious husband; and so many more characters.  Louisa and Rachel are the stars of the story, but every single character – from the main duo down to the most minor of side characters – is so fully realized and alive, it’s just astonishingly good.  More people need to read Dorothy Whipple.  Greenbanks was a perfect place to start, and I’m already plotting a Persephone order so I can get my hands on a few more of her novels.

Journey to Munich (Maisie Dobbs #12) – I’ve read every one of the Maisie books, and this was one of the best.  Still mourning her husband and child, Maisie has returned to England and is contemplating reopening her investigations business when she is swept back into the British Secret Service and tasked with a vitally important mission that will take her into the heart of Nazi Germany.  Maisie swears that she will not undertake any more missions after this one is complete, but I hope she’s wrong.  Maisie may not enjoy it, but I love seeing her get mixed up in espionage, and goodness knows there will be more opportunities for spying coming her way…

Spark Joy: An Illustrated Master Class on the Art of Organizing and Tidying Up, by Marie Kondo – Kondo’s companion to The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, through which I snickered last summer, was more useful than the original.  She shares tips and tricks and provides an illustrated guide to folding, and answers many of the questions that readers posed after reading the first volume (like “if I throw out my Neosporin because it doesn’t spark joy, what will happen if I skin my knee?”… no? just me?).  It’s still silly and a little insane from time to time, but I actually found Spark Joy… dare I say… helpful?  But I will continue to struggle with KonMari’s insistence that by balling up my socks, I am crushing their spirits.

A Darker Shade of Magic (Shades of Magic #1), by V.E. Schwab – Kell is one of two remaining Travelers, powerful magicians with the ability to move between parallel worlds.  Kell lives in Red London, a thriving and healthy kingdom in which magic is ripe for use by anyone.  His job, as adopted son to the king and queen, is to carry messages to Grey London, a dreary realm with no magic and a mad king (George III), and to White London, where magic has become too powerful and is gradually destroying the population.  Kell also is a smuggler, carrying trinkets back and forth between worlds – and that is (predictably) what gets him into trouble.  I’ve been reading a lot more fantasy lately, and this was a good addition.  I’m looking forward to the next volume (which is out now – I’m just waiting for my library hold to come in, no surprise there).

Whoa… TWELVE books this month?!  TWELVE?!?!  I don’t think I’ve ever had a month in which I’ve read this many books, since I started book blogging.  It was a bit of an up and down month – a couple of underwhelming choices, many that were fine but not revelatory, and a few really outstanding picks.  The highlights of the month have to be discovering the Provincial Lady and Dorothy Whipple, and I am looking forward to spending a great deal more time with them over the coming months.  Kindred was a wonderful (although difficult) read as well, and of course I always enjoy a visit with Maisie.  I can’t complain about April’s reads, that’s for sure!

What did you read last month?

Recently I’ve started introducing my children to poetry.  Poetry is generally not my cup of tea – I’m very picky about it, and if I don’t like something, it really sets my teeth on edge.  But I want Peanut and Nugget to grow up appreciating good poetry, and I want them to have the skills to understand and enjoy it – skills that I am still developing, myself.  Since I started keeping eyes out for good poetry for them, I’ve discovered that there is a lot of wonderful poetry, in some really beautiful books.  Some of the poetry I’ve found is specifically geared toward children, but not all of it – some books, like the gorgeous Sail Away, by Langston Hughes, reprint classic poems that may have originally been intended for adults, but that children can enjoy too.  And really, what better Diverse KidLit pic for National Poetry Month than an introduction to Hughes, one of the foremost poets of the Harlem Renaissance?

Sail Away includes some of Hughes’ most famous pieces – like The Negro Speaks of Rivers, a poem I’ve loved since I first read it in school.

I’ve known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

Then there are poems like April Rain Song, which I’d never read before, but how better to capture the sheer joy of a child stomping in puddles, and how perfect for spring, is this:

Let the rain kiss you
Let the rain beat upon your
     head with silver liquid drops
Let the rain sing you a lullaby
The rain makes still pools on the
     sidewalk
The rain makes running pools in the gutter
The rain plays a little sleep song
     on our roof at night

And I love the rain.

The illustrations are beautiful – colorful, eye-catching, and sure to please both kids and the adults who read these poems to them.  There are children of all different races and ages on the pages, and their sweet faces seem almost alive.  The illustrations perfectly match the lovely poetry – they really make the book.

Day
Became a bright ball of light
For us to play with.
Sunset
A yellow curtain
Night
A velvet screen.

I originally saw Sail Away on one of the tables during my kids’ preschool book sale, but I didn’t buy it because I was in a hurry to get to work.  When I came back for the book, it was gone – bummer for me, but what a delight for someone else!  I filed away the title and made a point of ordering it later, and I’m so glad that I did.  The selected poems are wonderful for children, as they capture joy and bliss in experiencing the natural world – but children are not the only ones who will enjoy this gorgeous book.  This is one for the parents as well.

If you’d like to read more Langston Hughes poems, many of his works are available on poemhunter.

Are you reading any diverse poets for National Poetry Month?

Reading is my oldest and favorite hobby.  I literally can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t love to curl up with a good book.  Here are my reads for March, 2016…

Jam on the Vine, by LaShonda Katrice Barnett – The fictionalized story of an actual historical figure, Jam on the Vine introduces Ivoe Williams, who along with her lover, Ona, founded and ran the first African-American female-run newspaper.  We meet Ivoe as a young girl and see her struggle through hardships and injustices with the help of her love of words, and cheer as she falls in love with Ona and grows into a determined and, ultimately, a successful woman.  I thought this book was wonderful – but fair warning, there are some scenes of violence that are very distressing (up to my threshold, which is admittedly not that high, but any more violent and I probably wouldn’t have been able to finish the book – so if you’re sensitive, be forewarned).

My Man Jeeves, by P.G. Wodehouse – I needed something a little lighter after reading about horrible violence in the Jim Crow South, and Jeeves always does the trick.  This wasn’t my favorite – it’s the first appearance of the brilliant valet, and you can tell that Wodehouse is still developing the characters.  And there are a few stories featuring neither Bertie nor Jeeves, which felt like filler material (although I’m sure they weren’t at the time the book was first published, before Bertie and Jeeves were so well-known and beloved).  Still, Jeeves and Wooster are always good for a laugh, and My Man Jeeves is no exception to that rule.

The Road to Little Dribbling, by Bill Bryson – Oh, how I love Bill Bryson.  Let me count the ways.  The man is the patron saint of American Anglophiles, he’s achieved what most of us only dream of (living in England!) and he’s absolutely hilarious.  In this latest offering, Bryson commemorates the twentieth anniversary of his classic Notes from a Small Island with more travels around Great Britain.  He’s cantankerous and grumpy and wonderful.  (Although I have to agree with Rebecca of Book Riot – why is it necessary to describe hills as “bosomy”?  Dear editor, this is where you come in.)

Saga: Volume 5, by Brian K. Vaughan – The fifth trade paperback installment of Saga delivered on the drama and excitement just as its predecessors had.  Marko and IV are searching for their families, but will they find them in time?  Sophie and The Brand are looking for a cure to The Will’s injuries, and Dengo involves some really frightening characters in his quest to bring attention to the disadvantaged of the Robot Planet.  Saga is weird and disturbing and excellent – but why is the next trade not being released until JULY?

The Queen of the Night, by Alexander Chee – Lilliet Berne is an opera sensation in 1870s Paris, with every honor except one – a role written just for her.  So she is intrigued when a novelist approaches her with a proposal to write an opera for her.  There’s just one problem – the opera is based on her life and reveals secrets she thought long buried.  Now Lilliet must discover who from her past may have betrayed her.  This was really well written, and there were a couple of twists I didn’t see coming (although I did predict the biggest one).  I really enjoyed it, but I think I would have liked it better had it not been so hyped.

The Enchanted April, by Elizabeth von Arnim – This is the most famous and beloved of von Arnim’s works, so I’m glad to have started here.  The Enchanted April tells the story of four English ladies, none of whom know one another particularly well, who escape a rainy Hampstead spring in favor of a villa in Italy.  Among the wisteria and sunshine, their hearts and souls are cured of various and sundry hurts.  I found this story charming, atmospheric, and just what the doctor ordered to get me through grey March.

The Readers of Broken Wheel Recommend, by Katarina Bivald – Another one that was everywhere, and that I might have enjoyed more had it not been so hyped, but I have to confess I was kind of underwhelmed by The Readers of Broken Wheel Recommend.  I found the legal issues really distracting (although they did lead to a good laugh with one of the partners at my firm, so that’s something!) and I just couldn’t bring myself to care about any of the characters or buy into the central romance.  The best characters, Claire and George, were only half-developed, and the rest seemed wooden.  I know that many, many people just loved Broken Wheel, but I couldn’t get into it.

So, not a bad month of reading, although only one book by a person of color this month, which isn’t great.  But as for enjoying myself, for the most part I did.  I loved The Road to Little Dribbling and The Enchanted April and really enjoyed several other of my reads this month.  Looking ahead to April, I have a teetering library stack (again) but there’s some good stuff on it, so I’m excited for page turns to come.

What was the best thing you read in March?

Reading is my oldest and favorite hobby.  I literally can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t love to curl up with a good book.  Here are my reads for February, 2016…

 The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, by Rebecca Skloot – I had been meaning to read this one for years, and once I finally got to it, I was blown away.  Henrietta Lacks was a cancer patient in Baltimore in the 1950s.  Shortly before she died – from a particularly vicious strain of cervical cancer – and unbeknownst to Henrietta, doctors harvested a few of her cancerous cells.  Up until Henrietta, no cells had ever managed to survive more than a few days after being harvested.  Henrietta’s were special – they lived forever, dividing and dividing and dividing.  HeLa, as the cells were named, went on to be instrumental in some of the most important scientific discoveries of the twentieth century.  They were used in testing some of our most prevalent drugs.  They were blown up in atomic bombs and shot into space.  And all the while, Henrietta’s family had no idea that her cells lived on.  They only discovered HeLa’s existence in the 1970s – more than twenty years after Henrietta’s death.  To this day, they have not been paid for the cells, which were extracted without Henrietta’s knowledge or consent.  And many of Henrietta’s descendants cannot afford health insurance.  Henrietta Lacks is all the more amazing – and disturbing – of a story for being true.  In Skloot’s capable hands, the reader comes to care deeply about Henrietta, her family, and the unfair system that has allowed some to profit handsomely from her cells while her family goes without insurance.  My only complaint was Skloot’s occasional penchant for describing people by their weight – I don’t need to know that a particular individual was “a substantial woman, about 200 pounds,” or that another individual was 400 pounds.  It wasn’t germane to the book and seemed a bit disrespectful.  But that is my only (minor) quibble with the book – overall, I thought it was spellbinding and fascinating.  Henrietta Lacks should be required reading for all human beings.

 Welcome to Braggsville, by T. Geronimo Johnson – Daron Davenport is a son of the South, away from home for the first time as a student at UC Berkeley.  When he mentions in a class that his hometown, Braggsville, stages an annual Civil War reenactment, Daron’s friends seize on the idea of a performance protest.  They traipse to Braggsville for spring break and proceed to stick out like sore thumbs everywhere they go – but their antics take a quick turn from comedic to tragic.  So… I liked Braggsville, but didn’t love it.  The plot was intriguing, but something about the writing style just didn’t resonate with me.  You ever read one of those books where you can appreciate that the writing is excellent, but it’s just not grabbing you?  That was my experience with Braggsville.  I found it hard to get invested in the story as a result.  Still a worthwhile read and particularly interesting during Black History Month.

 March: Book One, by John Lewis – March is going to be a trilogy of graphic memoirs recounting the life of Congressman John Lewis and his role in the Civil Rights Movement.  This first volume described Congressman Lewis’ rural Southern boyhood, his college years in Nashville, and the beginnings of his involvement with nonviolent protest.  I found it riveting and powerful – the graphic novel format was a really unique way to tell the story, and Lewis’ voice comes through beautifully.  I immediately checked the second volume out from the library.

 The Fifth Season (The Broken Earth #1), by N.K. Jemisin – I don’t know how to describe this book without going on for paragraphs and paragraphs, giving away the story, or both… but I’ll try.  The Stillness is a vast continent that is plagued by seismic events – earthquakes, tsunamis, disasters of all stripes.  Resident on the Stillness, amongst the ordinary “stills,” is a race of people called “orogenes,” who can sense and control the geologic environment.  The orogenes are feared and hated for their powers, but the stills also need their skill, and so the entire group has been suborned to the point of slavery – until a few orogenes decide that they’ve had enough.  I don’t want to say any more, because I don’t want to risk spoiling the many surprises.  The Fifth Season was my first N.K. Jemisin experience, and I was incredibly impressed with her world-building and her beautiful writing.  I’ll be reading her entire backlist now, kthanksbye.

 March: Book Two, by John Lewis – I couldn’t leave March this month, so I returned to Congressman Lewis’ memoirs for the second volume.  The Congressman finds himself in more and more volatile of a situation as he assumes a leadership role, first in the Freedom Rides, and then in SNCC, the nonviolent student organization he helped to found.  The volume concludes with the March on Washington and Dr. Martin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” speech, and it is incredibly moving and powerful.  What a wonderful way to tell such an important story – everyone should read March.  I’m now impatiently waiting for the third and final volume.

 The Turner House, by Angela Flournoy – The Turner house stands on Yarrow Street in a crumbling Detroit neighborhood.  For years, the house has sheltered Francis and Viola Turner and their thirteen children, from Cha-Cha, the responsible eldest son, to Lelah, the baby of the family.  Now Francis has passed away and Viola is dying.  The house – all but abandoned – is only worth about $4,000, but Viola still owes $40,000 on it.  Against this bitter backdrop, the Turner children gather to debate what should be done with their family home.  As the discussion unfolds, the children deal with their own private dramas.  Cha-Cha believes that he is being haunted, and the “haint” is causing both Cha-Cha and his marriage to unravel.  Twelfth child, Troy, is determined to buck his elder brother and take the house’s fate into his own hands.  And Lelah, the youngest, is coming undone – evicted, recently backslid into a gambling addiction she had worked hard to break, and at odds with her only daughter.  I loved this book.  Each of the Turners felt so real – the characterization was absolutely masterful.  Cha-Cha, in particular, was such a wonderful character, and I rooted for him to confront both his haint and the pressures of being the new family patriarch.  I simply can’t believe that The Turner House is a debut novel – if this is Angela Flournoy’s first effort, I can’t wait to see what she does next.

February, as most of my friends are no doubt aware, is Black History Month in the U.S.  Early in the month, I decided that I really wanted to celebrate by reading as many books by African-American authors as possible, and I certainly met that goal.  Of the six books I read this month, five were by African-American authors, and the sixth – Henrietta Lacks – was a sensitive and well-handled discussion of race and ethics in medical research, an issue that should be important to all of us, but that has particular implications for people of color, who have been disproportionately ill-treated by ethical and legal “rules” that do not require patient consent for taking and using human tissue.  (As a lawyer, I was stunned by this.)  I felt great about my Black History Month reading – some good fiction, some good non-fiction, and the discovery of two voices in fiction – N.K. Jemisin and Angela Flournoy – that I will enjoy following for years to come.  A successful month, indeed!

What were your reading highlights in February?

It’s February, the month to celebrate LOVE!  There are so many different kinds of love – romantic love, the love that families have for one another, love for our friends, love for our neighbors, love for our pets… Although I don’t think we need a particular day to remind us to share our love, I can’t argue with extra love and cheer during one of the coldest months of the year.  So, for February’s diverse kid lit title, I’ve chosen a book that celebrates love…

And Tango Makes Three, by Justin Richardson and Peter Parnell

The penguins at the Central Park Zoo are pairing off and building their nests, getting ready to welcome a new flock of chicks!  All over the Penguin House, girl penguins and boy penguins are getting together and falling in love.  And then there are Roy and Silo…

Roy and Silo are inseparable, so it shouldn’t come as much of a surprise that they pair off and build a nest together.  But neither one of them is able to lay an egg, because they are both boys.  In one of the most heartbreaking vignettes I’ve encountered in a children’s book, Roy and Silo find a rock and take turns sitting on it, hoping to hatch a chick of their very own.  A zookeeper notices the penguins trying to hatch a chick, and finds them an egg that needs a home…

Roy and Silo take turns sitting on the egg, just like all the other penguin couples… until the day when their egg hatches and Tango arrives!

A sweet, fuzzy chick, Tango settles right into her new family – “the very first penguin in the zoo to have two daddies.”

And Tango Makes Three is a true story of two male chinstrap penguins at the Central Park Zoo, who built a nest and raised a chick together.  Tango’s egg was laid by a female penguin who had only been able to care for one egg at a time; when she laid two eggs, the zookeepers made the decision to transfer one egg to Roy and Silo, knowing they would be able to care for the chick and her birth parents would not.  I teared up as I read about Roy and Silo tending to a rock in place of an egg, and cheered when Tango hatched and made their daddy penguin dreams come true.

It’s sad but not surprising that And Tango Makes Three has been the subject of a great deal of controversy ever since its publication.  We love this sweet tale of a precious penguin family who become symbols of the power of love.  And Tango Makes Three is a wonderful way to introduce children to the concept that there are all kinds of families, and that what unites them all is LOVE.  (And Moms and Dads, if you haven’t watched the episode of Parks and Recreation in which Leslie performs a wedding ceremony for two male penguins and creates a storm of controversy in Pawnee – go watch it.  It’s one of the most perfect thirty minutes of television I have ever seen.)

Have you read And Tango Makes Three?

Day-ummmmm, you guys!  I’m sitting down to write a disgustingly overdue post showing you my ten favorite books read in 2015, and I honestly don’t know how I’m going to choose.  As usual, my first instinct was to look at my Goodreads stats and see which books I’d rated the highest – five stars.  Usually that gives me a pretty good indication of my top ten list… but not for 2015.  In 2015, I had so many five-star books, that I honestly don’t know, sitting here and writing this introductory paragraph, how I’m going to narrow it down to just ten favorites.  If you’d asked me last year at this time – in the throes of a reading slump – if I thought I’d be in this position at the end of 2015 (or – cough – beginning of 2016) I’d have said you were nuts.  Yet here we are, 2015 was a ridiculously good reading year, and I’m actually having a hard time deciding which were the best of the best.

In any event, somehow I’ve got the list whittled down to ten (-ish; I’ve cheated a bit, as you’ll see below, but I know my friends will forgive me).  Again, these are books read in 2015.  Some of them were also published in 2015, but not all.  So here, in no specific order, are my top ten, best of the best, ultimate favorites from a really, really great year in books:

 Crossing to Safety, by Wallace Stegner – I’d been meaning to read Stegner since at least 2007 (when a friend with great taste told me she loved his books) and now I just wish it hadn’t taken me so long.  Crossing to Safety was a quiet but deceptively dramatic novel about friendship, and how it ebbs and flows through life’s changing seasons, and the mark that really deep friendship leaves on all of us.  I was astounded.

 Overwhelmed: Work, Play and Love When No One Has the Time, by Brigid Schulte – Seems like an odd pick, but Overwhelmed is the book that I can’t stop thinking about.  Schulte writes about that delicate balance we’re all trying to strike, between work, love, and leisure – how we fall short, how to do it better, and how the odds are stacked against us.  She’s an incredible writer – she brought me to tears describing the causes and consequences of America’s broken child care system – but the real reason that this book resonated with me so powerfully was that every.single.word seemed to speak directly to my life.  Schulte is a working mom, like me – but if that’s not you, it doesn’t matter and you should still read Overwhelmed.  Anyone who is busy, and that’s everybody I know, will find useful information in here.

 Dead Wake, by Erik Larson – Dead Wake was the book that busted me out of my reading slump in early 2015.  Larson’s history of the last crossing of the Lusitania was absolutely masterful.  He sets the stage with foreboding – as I told Steve, the image of the Lusitania chugging out of New York Harbor with smoke pouring out of only three smokestacks was one of the most chilling images of my entire 2015 in books.  And the crescendo toward which he builds is fierce, dramatic, and heart-pounding.  It’s history at its best, and it kept me feverishly turning pages even with a newborn in the house.

 Lumberjanes, Vol. 1 and 2, by Noelle Stevenson – Until I picked up Lumberjanes, I swore I would never read comics, that the medium just wasn’t for me.  Jo, April, Mal, Molly, Ripley, Jen and Rosie changed all that.  I loooooooooved their adventures – mythical monsters! anagrams! math! dinosaurs! three-eyed foxes! weird old ladies! creepy boy scouts!  These comics were fun, hilarious, and so smart.  I can’t wait for the third volume.  Ripley is my favorite – “I was a fastball!”  Lumberjanes is fun TO THE MAX.

 The Elephant Whisperer, by Lawrence Anthony – My mom recommended The Elephant Whisperer after her entire book club loved it, and I can see why – Lawrence Anthony’s memoir of his time gaining the trust of a “rogue” elephant herd was moving and powerful.  Anthony agrees to take the herd onto his game reserve after it becomes clear that he’s their last hope.  He has to throw out the book and learn to relate to the herd on their own terms, and it’s absolutely riveting.

 The Royal We, by Heather Cocks and Jessica Morgan – This is Will and Kate fanfiction, and it is AMAZING.  Another one that kept me turning pages instead of napping when my newborn napped, so you know it was good.  The Royal We is the story of Nick, second in line to the British throne, and Bex, his American fiancee.  The best part?  When the future King of England signs off a conversation with his soon-to-be girlfriend’s dad by solemnly telling him, “Go Cubs.”  It’s fun and fabulous and, as my friend Katie mused, unexpectedly moving.  There are few books I’ve wanted as badly as I want a sequel to The Royal We.

 In the Unlikely Event, by Judy Blume – Blume’s first adult novel in some 17 years, In the Unlikely Event is a fictionalized account of real events that happened when Blume was a teenager and a series of planes crashed in her hometown of Elizabeth, New Jersey, in the span of just a few months.  Because this is Judy Blume, the cast of characters is massive – but you’ll get everyone sorted out quickly, and you’ll come to care about all of them.  I rooted for Miri and her friends, I got a sickening feeling when I could tell they were about to get bad news (Judy Blume does foreshadowing as well as Erik Larson does it) and I cried as the whole town grieved tragedy after tragedy.  It sounds like an insanely depressing book, and parts of it were, but it was uplifting and fascinating too, and I couldn’t stop turning the pages.

 The Complete Persepolis, by Marjane Satrapi – Satrapi’s graphic memoir of her time growing up in Iran was moving, horrifying in parts, and completely illuminating.  I’ve always been intrigued by stories of growing up in foreign countries, and Iran is one of the most closed societies, hard for Americans to picture.  Enter Satrapi.  Her black and white illustrations perfectly conveyed the story, and I was completely riveted by her life story.

 Brown Girl Dreaming, by Jacqueline Woodson – Gorgeous.  Gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous memoir in poetry by an insanely talented young adult writer.  Woodson writes of growing up as a person of color in both the North and the South, feeling like she didn’t belong in either world, and finally finding a home in Harlem.  I read Brown Girl Dreaming on vacation this summer and finished it in a day – but it took up prime real estate in my brain for much longer than that.  I loved every one of Woodson’s poems, but the one about her grandfather’s garden was my very favorite.  I could feel the sun-baked soil and taste the warm products of Daddy’s labor and it was so beautiful.

 Sorcerer to the Crown, by Zen Cho – I first heard of Cho’s debut novel on the All the Books! podcast, when Rebecca Schinsky raved about it.  My taste doesn’t always collide with Rebecca’s, but it did here – I devoured it.  Cho has built an alternate Victorian England that is awash in color and teeming with magic, and her diverse cast moves through the world gracefully.  I recommended the book to my BFF (another Rebecca!) and she’s loving it on audio right now.  Everyone should read Sorcerer to the Crown!

So there you have it – my best of the best in 2015!  I started off a bit slow, but in the end I had a great reading year.  As you can see, I cheated a little – including both trade volumes of Lumberjanes that are currently out, but I think that’s okay because the first story arc covers both volumes, so there.  Really, it was a marvelous year, I read so many wonderful books, and the best part was that I got to turn hundreds of pages right here…

How about you – what were some of the best books you read in 2015?

Reading is my oldest and favorite hobby.  I literally can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t love to curl up with a good book.  Here are my reads for January, 2016…

The Hundred Year House, by Rebecca Makkai – A story told in reverse, The Hundred Year House begins around present day, where Doug and Zee Grant are living in the guest house just a few hundred feet from Laurelfield, Zee’s ancestral residence, which used to be an arts colony.  The house has all sorts of secrets, which are gradually revealed to the characters in subsequent acts that move progressively back through time.  I enjoyed many things about The Hundred Year House – the structure was novel (pun intended) and the writing atmospheric – but felt that it was a bit sluggish in parts.  Still a good read, and a good start to 2016.

When I Was a Child I Read Books, by Marilynne Robinson – More Robinson essays to start the year off on a cerebral note!  Robinson’s mind is a truly awe-inspiring wonder.  These essays – like those in The Givenness of Things, which I read in December – blend theology, culture, and American history and politics into a fascinating meditation on the United States and all its complexities.  I found When I Was a Child to be a bit easier to follow than The Givenness of Things, but it was still a wonderfully challenging read.

Fables, Vol. 4: March of the Wooden Soldiers, by Bill Willingham – In this fourth volume, Fabletown is under attacks both internal and external.  A refugee turns up from the Homelands – for the first time in more than a century – claiming to be Red Riding Hood.  But is she?  Meanwhile, the Adversary has sent an army of soldiers into the Mundy world to attack Fabletown, and they’re… different.  And Prince Charming, devious and scheming as usual, is running for Mayor.  Will he oust King Cole, and with him Snow White and Bigby Wolf?  Lots of drama and excitement in the fourth installment – I loved it.

The Color of Magic (Discworld, #1), by Terry Pratchett – I wanted to pick up the Discworld novels after Andy Weir raved about them on the “Reading Lives” podcast.  The Color of Magic was wildly inventive and absolutely hilarious, and I enjoyed it.  My one complaint was that I found the world-building to be quite convoluted and really difficult to follow.  At times, I would be almost convinced that I understood who was who and what was what, and then the scene would shift, months would have gone by (in the story, that is) and I’d be back at square one.  I think if I continue with the series, it will probably become clearer to me.

Saga, Vol. 1, by Brian K. Vaughan – For as long as anyone can remember, the planet Landfall has been at war with its moon, Wreath.  Because destroying one celestial body will destroy the other, the factions have taken their conflict to other planets and moons around the galaxy, and the war has been long and violent.  Marko, a conscientious objector from Wreath, and Alana, a Landfallian prison guard, have fallen in love and deserted their respective forces.  Now they’re married, and the comic opens as Alana is about to give birth to their daughter, Hazel.  Their joy is short-lived, however, as the authorities on both Landfall and Wreath discover their marriage.  Both sides are determined to seize Hazel and kill her parents.  So, I put off reading this comic for a long time, even though I kept hearing that it was incredible, for a simple reason: the Landfallians have wings.  All kinds of wings – bird wings, bat wings, angel wings… and butterfly and moth wings.  And if you have known me for awhile, you probably know that I hate butterflies and moths.  Like, really loathe them.  Just thinking about them makes me shudder.  So I wasn’t sure I could get past that.  But I hate it when everyone is talking about something and I’m out of the loop, so I tried Saga, with great trepidation.  So far, I can say, the wings haven’t freaked me out too much – Alana’s wings are more akin to dragonfly wings, which don’t bother me – and the one or two pictures involving lepidopter wings have been small enough and unrealistic enough that I’ve been able to ignore them.  And as for the story – it’s incredible.  Some of the art (and I’m not just talking about the wings here) is really disturbing and not for the faint of heart.  But I’m hooked now and I’ve got the second, third and fourth volumes out from the library.  I just hope there aren’t many butterfly wings in those…

Fables, Vol. 5: The Mean Seasons, by Bill Willingham – Well, the votes are in and Prince Charming has ousted King Cole in a landslide.  I’m sure he won’t last, but in the meantime, he’s taken over Fabletown’s government and replaced Snow and Bigby with Beauty and the Beast.  Snow has given birth to her cubs, only one of whom can pass as human, and none of whom can stay in Fabletown – so she and the babies have left the city and moved to the Farm, Fabletown’s upstate annex where all of the Fables who can’t appear human live in varying degrees of peace.  The Farm is the one place where Bigby is not allowed, which means he can’t see his cubs – and he’s not happy about that.  Meanwhile, a mysterious force is attacking Fables, and a new visitor arrives from the Homelands.  There was a lot of transition in this volume, and it’s really fun to see where Willingham is taking these characters.  I do hope that Snow gets those babies under control…

Boxers (Boxers & Saints, #1), by Gene Luen Yang – Yang’s two-part graphic novel tells the story of the Boxer Rebellion from two different perspectives.  Boxers, the first volume, shares the story of Little Bao, who learns kung fu and leads a group of boxers after witnessing the cruelty of the “foreign devils” toward his village and his father.  Little Bao is consumed by hatred for the “foreign devils” and “secondary devils” – Chinese Christians – and although his rebellion starts with a desire to protect the culture of China, it quickly gets out of hand.  Beautifully written and illustrated, but disturbing in parts.

Saints (Boxers & Saints, #2), by Gene Luen Yang – I started this second installment immediately after finishing the first volume, and I read it in one sitting.  Saints focuses on the other side of the Boxer Rebellion – the Chinese Christians who were caught between the foreign missionaries and their fellow countrymen.  This is primarily the story of Vibiana, one of the Chinese Christians, who made a brief cameo in Boxers.  Saints traces Vibiana’s journey from unloved child to Christian convert – her early lessons in the faith, where she sits in the living room of a local acupuncturist who terrifies her, listening to Bible stories merely to get the cookies his wife bakes (and I snorted out loud when Vibiana refers to Jesus as “an acupuncture victim”) to taking refuge with a foreign missionary, holding long conversations with a vision of Joan of Arc, and finally finding herself caught in a Boxer battle.  The ending made me cry – twice.

Saga, Vols. 2, 3 & 4, by Brian K. Vaughan – Lumping these all together for efficiency’s sake.  Toward the end of the month I went on a Saga bender and read three volumes in about 24 hours.  A lot happens as the series continues to unfold – Marko, Alana and their family take refuge on the planet Quietus for a brief time, but they are still being hunted by Prince Robot IV (on behalf of the Landfallians) and Gwendolyn and The Will, along with the slave girl The Will has rescued and named Sophie (on behalf of the Wreaths).  This is a really interesting, strange, disturbing, and often funny space opera.  IV and The Will are clearly the antagonists, but you sympathize with them – IV wants to finish this mission so he can get home to his pregnant wife, and The Will is surprisingly tender – for a feared bounty hunter – at least when it comes to Sophie and his pet, Lying Cat.  (Lying Cat is SO awesome.)  Of course you’re still rooting against IV and The Will, and rooting for Marko and Alana, but it’s complicated. At the end of Volume 4, Marko and Alana have split up – temporarily, I’m sure – and Marko has made an alliance with an enemy to try to get his family back.  I can’t wait to see what happens in Volume 5 (looks like Sophie gets glasses! can she be any cuter?) and I won’t have to wait long, because I’ve got it out from the library now.

January was a really busy month on the work and home fronts.  We spent most of our spare time packing up for our move at the end of the month, and we’re just now coming up for air.  We close on the house in a few days and I am crossing my fingers that it goes off without a hitch (or without any more hitches than we’ve already had, at least).  Steve and I have been like ships in the night – mostly me holding down the fort with the kids while he pulls double shifts between his regular job and getting the house completely cleaned out and ready for closing.  We are living in a sea of boxes in our little townhouse and I’m trying to unpack little by little, while hoping, at the same time, that we won’t be here long, and that something more permanent will come our way soon.  But that might explain why this was such a graphic novel-heavy month of reading.  Four volumes of Saga, two volumes of Fables, and the complete Boxers & Saints – yep, the comics definitely dominated this month.  And only two books – Boxers & Saints – by a person of color.  So not the best percentage to start the year off, but I’m keeping track and focusing on that goal and I’m sure I will get caught up.  

What did you read in January?