I don’t want to jinx anything, but, when it comes to books, I’m on a roll.
It started early this year with Lucky You by Erika Carter—which was so beautifully written. There’s something about young women trying to find themselves and make sense of their messy lives that always gets me. And then I jumped right into History of Wolves by Emily Fridlund. The writing was exquisite and the characters so well-formed that I didn’t even mind being left with unanswered questions in the end. Shortly after that, I read All The Ugly and Wonderful Things by Bryn Greenwood, which was so uncomfortable and beautiful and attitude-altering that I will probably always get chills when I think about it. From there, there was Dark Matter (devoured) and The Animators (truly a touching story of the vulnerability of women and friendship) and I’ve put the smallest dent into The Possessions in the past twenty-four hours.
These would be the books that sit out on my bedside table (if I had one—but seriously, I’m in the market for one, I’m just so damn picky and cheap) because I never want to be too far away from them. And beside them would be the perfect reading lamp (that is evading me) and a collection of my favorite pens (that, in another word, my toddler wouldn’t run off with). A glass of water. Lip balm. Hand lotion. Now I’ve gone off topic…
All of this is just to say: there are truly some incredible books out there. And I’ve read five of them already this year.