I had the lofty goal of reading all the books on the National Book Awards Long List, (before I realized that I didn’t care for 75% of them), and this was one of them. It was beautifully written but a little boring. It felt like one of those books that critics love but that I had to force myself to finish.
I have no idea where this book came from (I mean, it came from the library, but why I reserved it I have no idea) and I was sure as soon as I saw it that it was going to be awful. I mean, look at the cover. Just look at it. And it was sort of awful, but awful in a “fun goofy YAF superhero twist and turns” kind of way that I sort of enjoyed. I liked it, actually. I’d read another one! I would! Crazypants.
118. Men We Reaped
I was SO excited to read this book because I think Jesmyn Ward is just the greatest thing, but then, in the immortal and timeless words of Randy Jackson, it was only alright for me, dog.
119. The Good Lord Bird
What was this even about? Someone send me some ginkgo biloba. Geez.
Oh yes, that. I was halfway through this book when I realized I just didn’t care. Probably it’s a great book, at least according to whoever judged the National Book Awards, but I was just bored and life is too short for me to read books that don’t make me want to read them. Meh.
120. A House In the Sky
So this is a memoir by a woman who travels all over the world, including to super dangerous places where people tell her not to go, and then she gets kidnapped and held for ransom for some horrible period of time and it’s…not a cool time she has, let’s just say that. And while no one, obviously, deserves to get brutally kidnapped and assaulted, it’s also hard to read this because EVERYONE TOLD HER NOT TO GO TO THIS TERRIBLY DANGEROUS PLACE AND SHE DID IT ANYWAY. So, that was a weird line, for me. P.S. Don’t go to Somalia.
121. The Rosie Project
I bought this to read on the plane because I wanted a SURE thing and it had about nine million positive reviews on Amazon and it was fine. It was a totally acceptable airplane book, but it was nothing life changing. I wouldn’t put it on any lists. Bad or good.
122. The Road From Gap Creek
This was perfectly enjoyable, I liked it. I wouldn’t run out and tell you to buy it, but it was fine.
123. The Goldfinch
I have been waiting to read this book for a freaking year, people. A YEAR. The Little Friend is one of my favorite books of ALL TIME and it’s been TEN YEARS since Donna Tartt wrote a book and I paid CASH MONEY (not really I had a gift card but you know what I mean) for this book and I waited breathlessly by the door for the UPS man who always comes late at night when I really want something and then it turned out to be the MOST DEPRESSING BOOK OF ALL TIME. Seriously. Also it’s 756 pages long (not an exaggeration) and somewhere around page 715 I had the worst depressive episode I’ve had in six months and I called my therapist in tears and I cried four times in the grocery store and I had to wear sunglasses to school pick up and then I stopped reading this book and I instantly felt better. I can’t even use it as a doorstop because it stresses me out just to look at it. Yikes.
124. The Hive
Look, maybe you’re into this scene, but I just really have no interest in reading about moms being bitchy to each other at their children’s schools. Could not be less interested. I’d read like, a VW Bus Repair Manual, gladly, before I’d willingly read that shit.
125. Bridget Jones, Mad About the Boy
The NYT said this was good. It was not. It was just sad. Just re-read the first book and re-watch the first movie and go back to a life where this book never existed and Mark Darcy is standing in a hallway saying “I like you very much Bridget, just as you are.”
126. News From Heaven, The Bakerton Stories
It’s not you, it’s me, I just hate short stories. Always have, apparently always will.
127. Coming Clean
It was fine, if you like to read about hoarders, but after she used the term “rod iron bed” in a PUBLISHED NOVEL AND NOT ON SAY CRAIGSLIST WHERE IT BELONGS something went out of the story for me.
Next up, I have reserved a bunch of Pulitzer Prize winners from the library, so one can only assume I have a snoozefest of epic proportions on the docket. Won’t that be fun?
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