162. The Night Circus. I wanted to like this, I really did, but OH MY LORD did it take me forever to read. It just wasn’t one of those books that drew me back to it, and I kept having to make myself read it. I’d say it was just too weird for me, but I have loved way weirder books this year. It might have been too weird in a sort of dippy way that just didn’t hold me. Also, I don’t like circuses.
163. Ghost Lights. I had heard that this was supposed to be very very good. It was fine, I guess, until the ending, which felt…abrupt. I did not approve of the ending at all and it gave me a stinky feeling about the previous 7/8ths of the book.
164. The Boy in the Moon. If you ever want to feel appreciative feelings about your life and your developmentally normally 4 year old, this is the book for you. The whole time I was reading it, I had to fight the urge to go into Eli’s room and just sob over him. However, a lot of people have called this one of the best books of the year, and while I think that the author lives an amazing life, I do not really know if I think this is an amazing book.
165. Live Wire. This is Harlan Coben, I loved it, it made me want to go back and read all the other books he wrote in the Myron Bolitar series. I might like this character even more than Jackson Brodie and that’s saying a lot.
166. The Last Letter From Your Lover. I read this ages ago and then forgot about it. I liked it! Highly entertaining, well written.
167. I’m Not Her. Yeah. Not good.
168. The Aviary. I don’t know. I really shouldn’t read middle grade fiction. I guess this was ok, it was on the dippy side and I felt like I was reading it forever.
169. Stone Arabia. Oh man, no. The guy was such a douchebag and I tried to like him and I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt because I think he obviously had issues, but by the end of the book I just thought he sucked and I no longer cared.
170. The Descendants. This was ok. I liked it. I didn’t love it. It was a tad boring. At no point did I think “Man, they should sure make a movie out of this bad boy.”
171. The Weird Sisters. Oh, man, I loved this book. LOVED IT. Add it to my top books of the year list. Maybe it got a bit old towards the end? But I really really liked it. It reminded me a lot of A Thousand Acres, actually. Recommend.
172. Cocktail Hour Under the Tree of Forgetfullness. I liked it, I didn’t love it. Also, it was insanely depressing. But also funny, which goes along way with me.
173. All About Lulu. I also really really really liked this book. Except the ending, which I thought was sneaky and underhanded and kind of gross. I loved 98% of the book, hated the plot resolution.
174. Junonia. This was extremely unremarkable.
175. White Heat. I also loved this book. I know next to nothing about the arctic or inuit culture and I could not get enough of the descriptions, which were so well done, and I loved the main character and I just really enjoyed this book. Just when you think it’s all been written before, something so interesting and great and different, but in a good way, comes along, and it renews your hope in the world. I could have read about seal soup all day.
176. Paper Covers Rock. I cannot honestly believe that anyone with a pulse put this book on a best of list of any kind. Unless it was “Best Books to Light On Fire to Keep Yourself Warm In the Event of an Apocalyptic Style Ice Age Event Ala Day After Tomorrow.”
177. The Condition. I liked it a lot. More than I thought I would. Although man was that first jump in the time frame depressing.
178. Why We Broke Up. Hmmmm. I need to coalesce my thoughts about this. I am glad I read it. I thought it was interesting. I did not like the ending and I thought it felt forced. And why was it printed on that weird coated paper that made it weigh ten thousand pounds? It made me sad and it was interesting and funny and while it was not perfect, it was a good sort of sad and I enjoyed it, really I did. I just wished for something more, somehow. It was such a good close try to being great, I wanted to see it close the deal, I guess.
179. Emily, Alone. This is one of my favorite things I have read in a long long long long time. It was so simple and spare and interesting and wonderful and really – how do you describe this book? The day to day list of what an eighty year old woman does on her own to fill her days while she thinks about how much longer she’ll be alive? And it was just magnificent and think about what an artist you have to be to make that story, such a simple and plain story, so utterly fascinating and compelling and heartbreaking and wonderful and crazy making and human and to make you think about what you want in your life and what you’ll remember about your life when you are 80. I’m not kidding, I wanted to read endless pages about flower shoes and home repair and getting gas and the new car and the door scratch and the senior buffet. My book of the year? Almost. I think yes.
180. What Alice Forgot. Eh. It felt like sort of dippy chick lit, although I did like Alice, the main character, quite a bit. But still, it was on the dippy side.
Filed under: Book Reviews |