emilyreads

I had high hopes, but
this was too esoteric
for me this summer.

Living With a Wild God: A Nonbeliever's Search for the Truth About Everything by Barbara Ehrenreich. Twelve, 2014, 256 pages.

Love me some McCracken,
but I could NOT get
into this collection.

Thunderstruck and Other Stories by Elizabeth McCracken. Dial, 2014, 240 pages.

Cringeworthy declarations
of endless love -- too much
of a muchness.

Notes to Boys: And Other Things I Shouldn't Share in Public by Pamela Ribon. Rare Bird Books, 2014, 264 pages.

Loved the concept, but
couldn't really connect with
the author. Alas.

Mud Season by Ellen Stimson. Countryman Press, 2013, 288 pages.

Love me some McCorkle,
but this was a case of
wrong reader, wrong time.

Life After Life by Jill McCorkle. Shannon Ravenel Books, 2013, 352 pages.

I tried, I swear -- I
just couldn't finish. Wrong book,
wrong time, wrong reader.

In Darkness by Nick Lake. Bloomsbury, 2012, 368 pages.

I can't even do
this anymore. Trash is fun --
but sometimes, just trash.

Wicked Business by Janet Evanovich. Bantam, 2012, 320 pages.

Normally love her,
but could not get into this
one. Too depressing?

Packaged like chick lit;
dry like academia.
Caveat reader.

Several years ago I got the bright idea to make a list of books I'd always meant to read, books I felt I should read, and books I had loved and wanted to re-read. I combed through my mental files and also got suggestions from commenters on what I should include. Because I am a creative person and work with words for a living, I called this list The LIST. (#genius)

All told, The LIST was 54 books long. A mix of classic and modern, children's and adult, fiction and nonfiction, it introduced me to some wonderful books, some surprising favorites, and a few old friends. Tragically, I will never get back the 37 hours I spent reading Madame Bovary and Anna Karenina.

As of today, I have read 51 1/2 books from The LIST (Sophie's World, you were just not compelling enough to finish). Those last few books have been sitting there for six months now, silently mocking me from the sidebar like some hypertext Nelson Muntz.

So as of today, I am officially abandoning The LIST. Consider it what I'm giving up for Lent. It's been a good run, anyway. Someday I'm sure I'll re-read Where the Red Fern Grows; I'm less confident I'll give Stephen Daedalus or Tocqueville a chance.

I'm currently putting together a (much shorter) list of middle-grade and YA books that I adored on first reading. As is my wont, however (fast reader = superficial reader), I remember little about most of these books now, except that I loved them. Stay tuned for The Great Re-Read, coming to a sidebar near you in the not-too-distant future.