July, 2022: Reading. Seriously.

 Another Val story before we begin. This was one of her favorites. Every time it popped up in her Facebook memories, she'd repost it.

Val was moving yet again during her time in Korea. I was not particularly pleased because she would be moving out of my apartment building and over to a university way the hell out in the country and about 30 minutes away by train. Although I was dreading the day, I got caught up in the hustle and bustle of her packing.

About 9:30 pm, she decided that she would load some boxes into the boot of her little red Matiz automobile. Of course the boxes were terribly heavy, so she decided that we must get a trolley.

A what? I said.

A trolley.

I decided that she meant a dolly, but didn't say so. 

We looked around in the dark stairwell on the first floor for a trolley/dolly, but didn't see anything. Finally, we ran into a security guard. He didn't want to speak to us because of the language barrier, but Val neatly cornered him at the door of his guardhouse. She pulled out her phone and started typing into the translator.

She showed the guard the word on her phone and then said in Korean, "Please give me."

He looked at her like she was crazy. She nodded. I nodded, too. Finally, he sighed and got his flashlight and looked around in the hallways of our building. We followed. Then after a decent interval, he shook his head and started back to the guardhouse.

"Wait!" Val showed him her phone again. "I KNOW they have trolleys in Korea. I've seen them."

Dolly was trembling on the tip of my tongue, but I confess: Even though English is my native language, I've always had an inferiority complex about speaking American English around English English speakers. I usually throw in the linguistic towel and give Brits the win right away.

The guard sighed, mumbled something and repeated the walk, shining his flashlight up and down the corridors. Then he headed back to the guardhouse and settled in with his K-Drama. He offered up a final word in English: "Impossible."

We retreated to Val's apartment. "Maybe there's another word," she said, looking at her phone. "Oh, hold on. Uh-oh. Look." She showed me the phone. Turned out that her finger had landed on the wrong word, and we'd had the guard looking around in the gloomy stairwells for a troll.

I was really really glad then that I'd restrained myself from saying dolly.

"I'll try again tomorrow," Val decided. "If he'll even speak to me. The poor man."

***

1. What Are Castles and Knights? - Sarah Fabiny. Nonfiction.

2. The Witches - Stacy Schiff. Nonfiction. Schiff takes the reader into the world of Salem Village, 1692 to make us understand the time and place that created a toxic atmosphere where nearly everyone lost their damn minds and sent 19 innocent people to their deaths for witchcraft based on the word of a few shrieking teenagers. By the end, I felt claustrophobic and a little crazy, but mightily enjoyed counting up the many references to The Wizard of Oz that Schiff cleverly inserted.

3. The Poisonwood Bible - Barbara Kingsolver. Novel. I shied away from this book for decades, and now I'm a little mad at myself, but not too much because I think maybe I just wasn't ready for this story of religion, culture clashes, and revolution (of all kinds) in the Congo (now Zaire) in 1959. It's a searing and illuminating book and Kingsolver's masterpiece. I am adding it to my favorite reads of 2022.

4. Who Was E.B. White? - Gail Herman. Nonfiction.

5. What Is the AIDS Crisis? - Nico Medina. Nonfiction. A careful, comprehensive look at the AIDS crisis from its very beginnings. The government's indifference was chilling, and Nico Medina pulls no punches. No bullshit. Well-executed.

6. Long Walk to Freedom - Nelson Mandela. Nonfiction. I audiobooked this one. Danny Glover's narration was interspersed with African national songs, crowd reactions in real time to events unfolding in apartheid South Africa, and speeches read in Mandela's own voice, which made for a moving listening experience. Since this was significantly abridged, I don't feel as if I got all the nuances or even the whole story, but the crux is there and it left me in a thoughtful mood, eager to learn more about Mandela and the ANC and the struggle for a more democratic South Africa.

7. Who Was Ponce de Leon? - Pam Pollack and Meg Belviso. Nonfiction. MAD RESPECT for how this book was written! It starts out like a conventional biography of Ponce de Leon, conquistador in the making, then it makes a wicked left turn that nearly had me scrambling for the Dramamine, and it essentially says: You know what?! This guy, none of these guys were heroes. None of them were admirable. They ruthlessly rode roughshod over native lands and territories and ruined millions of lives. They disrupted cultures. They enslaved and murdered people with weapons and disease! Then the authors take a tiny step back and allow that maybe Ponce de Leon couldn't help it; he was conditioned at an early age to believe that as an agent of Catholic Spain, he was on the side of right. Then they gather themselves again and they're like, nah, he's still awful. And that cute Fountain of Youth story? What a bunch of hooey cooked up to make him look deluded at worst and whimsical at best. 

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dI read 7 books in July. When I wasn't Who-Was-ing, I felt as if my reading had unexpected depth. Am I being and becoming? Is it just a stage I'm going through? Actually, two of the Who Was...? books I read went way beyond my expectations (What is the AIDS Crisis and Who Was Ponce de Leon) and handled the material in a manner that would create new levels of understanding in mature readers while introducing it to newer, younger reader1. What Are Castles and Knights? - Sarah Fabiny. Nonf

Mid-September, 2021: Way Late To The Office Party

 A few days ago, I became acquainted with the concept of "batch blogging". It's like "batch cooking", but with blogs. Apparently, it's a thing. Apparently, closer to home, The Spawn does it with his comic book blog. Now I feel as if there is a lack in me because I can't squeeze out multiple posts at one sitting to be scheduled at tidy intervals. Just getting one blog entry out is like warring with the last smears of toothpaste at the end of the tube. Is it because I have nothing to say? No, of course not. I am intrigued, and think I might try out the concept with a mini-post. Okay, enough with all this throat-clearing!

What I Read:

Who Was Frida Kahlo? - Sarah Fabiny. Biography. Kahlo figures prominently in my current audiobook, The Lacuna, so I wanted to read more about her. Fabiny paints a portrait of Kahlo that is as rich and emotional as Frida's art. She does a great job of discussing the symbolism in Kahlo's paintings, and is candid about Frida's health and relationship struggles. The illustrations by Jerry Hoare give this volume in the series an added richness and cohesiveness. So glad I bought this!

What I DNFed:

What She Ate - Laura Shapiro. Nonfiction. This was such a clever idea, combining women's lives with the food they ate, but it just didn't come together for me. I read three out of the six profiles: Dorothy Wordsworth, Helen Gurley Brown, and Barbara Pym. I struggled to the finish with Pym, and decided to take What She Ate off the table. I like the concept and can't stop thinking about it. I wonder if there is some way someone else could give this idea a try.

What I'm reading:

American Cheese - Joe Berkowitz. Nonfiction. I'm not very far along yet, but enjoying every cheese-filled reference. Joe B. has just had his Eureka! moment at the fancy cheese-tasting, and now he's branched out into making his own cheese at home with mixed results: So-so, needs improvement and distinctly horrible. He's also sampling the best and building his "cheese memory palace" cube by savory cube. I'm relating to this book remarkably well, considering that my own cheese tastes are beyond unsophisticated and I've only been in one cheese shop in my entire life. This was in The Netherlands in the 1970s, and my parents sampled several cheeses before coming out of there with a small wheel of I know not what, but remember that it was unpleasantly pungent and we ate it for months. Anyway, can't wait to take another bite out of American Cheese.

The Lacuna - Barbara Kingsolver. Novel. This book may turn out to be my favorite read for 2021. I love the panorama of disparate settings in the United States and Mexico and I'm in awe of how Kingsolver wove together a story that encompasses world events stretching from the 1920s revolution in Mexico to hideous McCarthyism in the 40s and 50s. Like Zelig, Kingsolver's main character, Harrison Shepherd is a witness to all of it. I'm also fascinated by her creation-within-a-creation -- Shepherd's historical fiction novels, set in long-ago Mexico. Her "book reviews" of his work are so convincing, I found myself wanting to put them on my wishlist. As I mentioned above, Frida Kahlo features prominently in The Lacuna, and she does something so memorable and heroic for Shepherd and his art while he appears to be doing the same for her and her art, that when it was revealed, I nearly burst into happy tears while driving down the road. I'm not finished with The Lacuna yet, and I'm not sure I want to be.

Warhol - Blake Gopnik. Biography. Not going to lie; this one is hard going. Gopnik did an incredible amount of research -- so much so that his end notes couldn't be published in the print volume because it would tack on hundreds of more pages to this already hefty tome. He seems determined not to let any of the research go to waste, jam-packing tangents, incidentals, and minute details into the story of Warhol's life. There is also a fair amount of speculation about Andy Warhol's inner psyche followed with sensible realizations that there is always going to be a barrier that even the most thorough biographer can never cross. For even the most devoted to biography fans, all of this is daunting.  I'm not giving up, though!

What I Want To Read (And Watch!):

Billy Summers - Stephen King. Novel. I'm hoping to audiobook this one.

I am so so late to the party, but after reading Mindy Kaling's book Why Not Me? last month, I finally became interested in watching The Office. One night after work, I found it on Comedy Central. The network typically runs shows all evening until ten o'clock. The first couple of episodes I watched didn't thrill me. Then, in the middle of a season 3 episode, Jim pranks Andy by hiding his phone (with its annoying ringtone of Andy's a cappella rendition of Rockin' Robin) in the ceiling, and it hit me. Now I love the show, and have been sporadically working my way through the series. At some point, I'll go back and start at the beginning. The Spawn found a library book about The Office in our local library system and it's on the way, so I'm eager to read it. My thoughts so far: The Jim and Pam romance doesn't really interest me, although I like both characters individually, especially Jim's never-ending arsenal of workplace pranks. I'm drawn to Dwight, Andy, Michael, Kelly, Meredith, Stanley, Phyllis, Oscar, Kevin, and the HR guy, Toby. Oh, and Angela, the crazy cat person. As for Ryan, played by B.J. Novak -- not sure about him yet.

 I could go on, but I really need to click this post into existence, warts and all.

Read 'Em And Weep: Mid-August, 2021

 There was reading, but no weeping. I promise. It's just allergy season.

What I read:

Who Was Juliette Gordon Low? - Dana Meachen Rau. Another standout in the Who Was..? series. Juliette Gordon Low a.k.a. Daisy (and sometimes Crazy Daisy for her impetuous nature) to her friends and family jumps off the pages. Being a one-time Girl Scout, I thoroughly appreciated this book. Using the cookies as a ratings marker, I give it 10 boxes of Thin Mints. As for Dana Meachen Rau, she should have the Writer badge sewn on her sash straightaway.

Best Food Writing 2003 -Holly Hughes, editor. Unlike some years with this series, I found 2003 to be an uneven mix of good and  ho-hum. I did enjoy Nigel Slater's "Kit", an assessment of kitchen essentials; "Travels with Captain Bacon", which involved a road trip through Kentucky and Tennessee in search of the most perfect part of the pig, in my opinion; "Sustaining Vision" by Michael Pollan, which already grabbed my attention when I read it in The Omnivore's Dilemma; "With Pancakes, Every Day is Sunday" Hell YES!; "Grilling, Short and Sweet" by John Kessler, who Asian-grills rather than Texas-barbecues again HELL YES; Kathleen Brennan's "Cajun Pig Party" which follows the Louisiana back country action all the way from Sue the pig's last snorts and squeals to the after-dinner dancing; Robb Walsh's "Say Cheez", in which he explores the debate about what cheese or Cheez truly completes a perfect Philly Cheesesteak; Andrea Strong's fond look back in "Ode to Sloppy Joe, a Delicious Mess". The origin stories are as messy as the dish itself; "Bread Winner" by Susan Choi who serendipitously meets up with a true sandwich artist on her daily trip to her neighborhood deli; and "The Culinary Underground" by John T. Edge about a couple in Mississippi who serve lunch out of their modest home every weekday.

Behind the Beautiful Forevers - Katherine Boo. Care asked me in a recent postcard if I'd read this book. When I replied, I forgot to tell her I had not, then I found the audiobook, and now I have and it was beautiful, brilliant, devastating first-rate reporting. The author spent several years following the up and down (mostly down) fortunes of a handful of people in Annawadi, a slum in Mumbai, located near the airport. It reads (or in this case, listens) like a novel, but the onionlike levels of corruption that Boo peels back again and again are frustratingly and wrenchingly real.

What I'm reading:

The Andy Warhol Diaries - Andy Warhol, edited by Pat Hackett. Since Warhol dictated his entries over the phone to Pat Hackett, they have a sort of unreflective flatness. Then it hit me that Warhol was yet again well ahead of his time. Except for the character count, they're tweets! My favorite diary entry so far: I had so many dates for tonight, but I decided to stay home and dye my eyebrows. It was a refreshing change from all that name-dropping.

The Spawn brought home a series of books called "Food Dudes" which are juvenile nonfiction offerings that tell the story behind iconic American foods and beverages: M&Ms, Oreos, Gatorade, Pepsi-Cola, Coca-Cola, Heinz Ketchup, Kentucky Fried Chicken, and Hershey's chocolate, to name a few. I don't know why, but I'm just not feeling this series. Overall, the writing seems a little dull.

In a similar vein, The Spawn also brought home a huge stack of books --Toy Trailblazers-- that chronicle iconic American toys: American Girl Dolls, Barbie, Lincoln Logs, My Little Pony, Rubik's Cube, Hot Wheels, and Monopoly are examples. I've just started reading the one about the young woman who became a sensation on YouTube for getting creative with slime. This series' writing seems a little more lively.

Who Is Dolly Parton? - True Kelley. I'm still reading, and I already love this book. Bonus points to True Kelley for mentioning "Joshua", the song that made me a Dolly fan so many, many years ago.

Strange reading coincidence: Dolly Parton and Andy Warhol crossed paths! He's name-dropped her three times already in the diaries, and I'm only on page 186.

What I want to read:

I went to the bookstore today and cast a longing eye upon Billie Jean King's autobiography.

Vernon Gravely, who wrote Promise Unfulfilled, a biography of actor Robert Morris, has written a historical book about boxing. It will be out in the early fall.

Twelve in July

 Twelve books in one month! That's a lot for me. True, many of them were Who Was...? books, but I read a nice variety of fiction and nonfiction. And my ears, my lucky, lucky ears. Here's to the audiobooks!

So here's my tasty list for July:

1. Who Is Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson? -James Buckley, Jr. Nonfiction.

2. The Mayor of MacDougal Street - Dave Van Ronk. Memoir.

3. Cheeky: A Head-to-Toe Memoir -Ariella Elovic. Graphic Novel.

4. The Night Watchman - Louise Erdrich. Novel.

5. Who Is RuPaul? -Nico Medina. Nonfiction.

6. Who Is Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez? - Kirsten Anderson. Nonfiction.

7. Who Is Aretha Franklin? - Nico Medina. Nonfiction.

8. Little Bird of Heaven - Joyce Carol Oates. Novel. Audiobook.

9. Who Is Elton John? - Kirsten Anderson. Nonfiction.

10. Who Was Andy Warhol? -Kirsten Anderson. Nonfiction.

11. Who Is Judy Blume? -Kirsten Anderson. Nonfiction.

12. Shuggie Bain -Douglas Stuart. Novel.

Notes:

I've got to hand it to Louise Erdrich. I didn't particularly enjoy the first part of The Night Watchman, but I stayed with it, and ended up enjoying it tremendously. Erdrich is an author that kind of sneaks up on you. I'm going to try more of her novels.

I knew who RuPaul is, but only superficially, so I was glad to read Who Is RuPaul? and learn more about him. It's a frank book that dives deeply into Queer culture. In fact, there is a defensive little note from the publisher on the inside cover. Nico Medina wrote Who Is RuPaul? and Who Is Aretha Franklin? (published before Franklin's death in 2018) . Although he, like the other authors in the Who Was..? series are working within a rigid framework, Medina's honest, thoughtful, and delicately emotional writing seems to transcend the constraints. After reading these two books, I am pumped to binge-watch seasons of RuPaul's Drag Race and head out to the movies on August 13 to see the Aretha Franklin biopic Respect.

Joyce Carol Oates and Louise Erdrich seem to be opposites in how they draw readers into their fictional worlds. Erdrich moves slowly and deliberately. Oates picks the reader up and flings them into her (usually) bleak landscape with a boot on the backside for good measure. Her characters and plots seem fueled on some sort of fever or drug, then they wind down significantly --almost peter out-- in the last act. In contrast, halfway is the point at which Erdrich, while not necessarily picking up speed, gains momentum. Her various, seemingly unrelated strands of story start to come together and make sense and not just sense -- a beautiful pattern, a satisfying ending.

I've never been a big fan of Andy Warhol's art, but I've always been intrigued by his philosophy and approach to art, so when The Spawn told me there was a Who Was...? book about him, I asked him to reserve it at once. I was not disappointed. Who Was Andy Warhol? joins my list of favorites in this series. I was inspired to go and check out The Andy Warhol Diaries (BIG heavy book, coffee table caliber, a real chunky monkey) which is so much fun to read: Gossip, name-dropping, minute details. It's like dipping into a box of candy. I want to drape my walls in tinfoil! I want to dye my hair glittery-silvery silver!

Since we're on the subject of Andy Warhol, right now seems like a good time to insert this story of Things I Kick Myself For. Once upon a time, back in the early 1980s, a neighbor of my parents gave me an Amy Vanderbilt cookbook from the late 1950s. As a cookbook, it was rather user-unfriendly. Short and chunky, it was not easy to prop up and open on a kitchen counter while cooking. The type was also small, and there were no photographs of how the dishes should look after preparation. It was also heavy on etiquette and  multiple forks. Waaay too much for a young and nervous cook, BUT the simple drawings interspersed throughout the volume were illustrated by *Andrew* Warhol! For years, I guarded it closely, but somehow in all the moves, both domestic and international, I lost this book. Kick. Kick. Kick.

Anyway.

Who Is Judy Blume? was a sentimental read. I was never a fan of Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret. Eleven-year-old me thought she was absolutely nuts to want a bra and her period. However, Blume's story of teenaged first love, Forever was of extreme interest to sixteen-year-old me. I studied that book. Around the same time, I read Blume's adult novel Wifey. I remember feeling proud of myself for getting the joke about the pervert who keeps appearing in the title character's front yard to masturbate and leave. Sandy calls the police. As they leave, she says she remembers one more thing: the guy was right-handed. Or was it left-handed? I'm not sure anymore, but I thought it was uproariously funny. Who Is Judy Blume? compounded my sentimental feelings by doing a sidebar about a book series Judy loved as a young girl: The Betsy-Tacy books! I was very squeee! Laura Ingalls always held the top place in my heart followed by Jo March, but Betsy and Tacy were a solid third.

And what can I say about my last and most favorite read of July, Shuggie Bain? It broke my heart, as Tracey Ullman would say, in 17 places. Poverty and alcoholism and bad love choices and closed-mindedness set in Thatcher-era Glasgow reminded me of Roddy Doyle's Dublin. I loved the cadences of the Glaswegian (?) dialect, but I was forced to stop reading more than once to look up Scottish slang. I loved and felt sorry for Shuggie's family. I thought his father, Shug, was the villain of the piece until his mother, Agnes, took up with Eugene. At that point, Agnes had my full sympathy. Also, there's a long-past vignette with Agnes's father and mother that I had to read over and over in shock because I JUST KNEW I was not really reading what I had just read. Which, of course, is a long way of saying a very WTF moment. When the novel ended, I did not want to leave the remaining characters. I had a sincere sense of loss. I'm late to the party, but I'm so happy that Douglas Stuart won the Booker for Shuggie Bain. I can't wait to read his next novel.

Hey April Part 2

 So, where were we? That's right. I was going to talk about Eleanor by David Michaelis. I dearly loved this book with a couple of reservations. It was both sensitive to and admiring of Eleanor Roosevelt. The research was thorough. Themes were well-established with good follow-through. What I'm about to write may seem picky, may make me seem like Karen or June Cleaver clutching their pearls, but I'm not, I'm really, really not. No pearls on this girl; that's not me at all. And yet: I cringed in the chapter where Eleanor is a young mother and Michaelis refers to her giving birth not once but twice as "push[ing] out her [first/second/third/etc.] baby". Excuse me??? This seems a little crude for an otherwise respectful biography. Yes, I KNOW that that's what women do during a birthing process that isn't a Caesarian, and Eleanor Roosevelt certainly did, but it seems like a lapse in judgement. Is it possible that Michaelis had an editor who didn't like him and went back and inserted "pushed out her # baby", removing the more genteel "gave birth to a daughter/son"? Or is this way of describing childbirth a new and accepted thing and I've totally lost touch? After all, I haven't given birth or pushed anyone out since 1984. Anyway. Ahem. The other thing that bothered me was a mistake in a caption in one of the photos that refers to a necklace Eleanor is wearing as made out of tiger claws. In the book's text, it clearly states that the necklace is made of tiger teeth, and inspection of the actual photo bears this out. Other than those two things, Eleanor is a wonderful biography, warm and perceptive and intelligent as Eleanor herself.

Who Was Levi Strauss? was not one of my favorites in the Who Was..? series. Although Strauss was an immigrant who came to America and made his fortune making pants for miners during the 1849 Gold Rush which turned out to be the most popular form of clothing EVER, the man surprisingly, didn't have a very colorful life. There were a lot of awkward filler articles in the book to make up for that lack of color. This book would have worked better as What Are Levis? Or What Are Blue Jeans?

A Who Was...? book that I really enjoyed was Who Was Julia Child? This was co-authored by Geoff Edgers, writer of  Who Were The Beatles? one of my new favorites. I loved the way Child's zest for life and her quirky personality were conveyed. Her time in the OSS during WWII was especially well-done. I had to stop reading periodically and go watch YouTube videos from The French Chef. The book gave me a warm glow. When her kitchen at the Smithsonian was mentioned, I smiled, remembering how I got to see it for myself several years ago. And Julia's junk drawer! This really is a charming addition to the Who Was...? series.

Who Was Milton Bradley? was lively and interesting. It's well-written, and the sidebar articles feel organic to the text. Even better, the illustrations by Tim Foley make Bradley's story come to life. Another new favorite.

The Pull of the Stars by Emma Donoghue was my only fiction book for the month, and I don't feel as if I read it; I feel as if I absorbed it through my skin. The novel takes place over three days in a makeshift maternity ward in Dublin during WWI and also during the 1918 pandemic. The main character, Nurse Julia is left to run the ward alone until a young volunteer named Bridie appears to assist her. This isn't a long book. It's brief and packs a wallop. Brutal and tender. I feel as if I need to read it again.

Yikes, Two Months!

 No, I haven't lost that blogging feeling! I woke up this morning, casting about for reasons and excuses why it's been two frigging months. But nevermind. Blog, just blog!

So waaaaaaaaaaay back in March: That was a good month for reading:

1. Little Town on the Prairie - Laura Ingalls Wilder

2. Essentialism: The Disciplined Pursuit of Less - Greg McKeown

3. Always Young and Restless - Melody Thomas Scott

4. Solutions and Other Problems - Allie Brosh.

5. Who Was Catherine the Great? - Pam Pollack and Meg Belviso

6. Who Is Kamala Harris? - Kirsten Anderson

7. Who Was Walt Whitman? - Kirsten Anderson

Notes:

I always love me some Laura, but the minstrel show is pretty ugh. Also ugh but also kind of horrifying and funny was Pa's dream about going to the barber only to wake and find that a mouse has been chewing off his hair to make a nest.

My takeaway from Essentialism is that if you say no, people will be pissed off in the short term. If you say yes, they won't really respect you for it. This book was too closely related to a very narrow sliver of the workplace and not enough to other avenues of life.

Always Young and Restless was fun as I expected, but there was also more depth than I expected.

Solutions and Other Problems: I'm just not a fan of Allie Brosh's style of art, but I very much enjoy her writing.

Who Was Catherine the Great?  Who indeed! Wow, the authors tackled some extremely grown up subjects here to present a portrait of a complex woman which is satisfying to readers of all ages.

The Kamala Harris biography felt rushed out and was disappointingly short.

Who Was Walt Whitman? wasn't one of my favorites of this series. It seemed a little hazy.

The Reads of December

 For some reason-- holiday spirit? -- I was in an amiable reading mood during December. I met my goal of 59 books, then tacked on another one. 60 isn't a big number, but its roundness pleases me.

Also: I finished Ducks, Newburyport! Still can't thank Care enough for bringing this book to my immediate attention, and then...and then...she brought it to my mailbox!

So here's what I read in December. I'll do the numbering to reflect how many books I'd read so far:

56. Ducks, Newburyport - Lucy Ellmann. Novel. This is my favorite read of 2020. It just fit the zeitgeist so well.

57. Who Was Jules Verne? - James Buckley, Jr. Nonfiction. More and more, I'm fascinated with this series, especially the editing. What gets mentioned. What doesn't get mentioned. What kinda-sorta gets mentioned. Kinda-sorta showed up in Jules Verne's story and distracted me to no end. I ran to Google without stopping. Later in his life, Verne was enjoying the fruits of his successful writing career buying homes and building boats and hosting Nellie Bly as she was recreating a trip around the world in 80 days. Suddenly, Verne's nephew shows up in the book and shoots Uncle Jules in the leg. The pain and the recovery are addressed in full, but the nephew disappears, just as abruptly as he appeared. WHY? WHY DID HE SHOOT HIS UNCLE? Google revealed more: the nephew was apparently nuts, and put in a mental asylum. Also: he shot at Uncle Jules TWICE. He missed the first time, then the second shot got Verne in the leg. I don't see why this information couldn't have been shoehorned in. In addition, there was some read-between-the-lines stuff about Jules Verne's son being a disappointment to his father.

58. Who Was Bruce Lee? - Jim Gigliotti. Nonfiction. I liked this biography of Bruce Lee so much! I hardly knew anything about the martial arts master and actor who shattered Asian stereotypes on film.

59. Sometimes You Have to Lie: The Life and Times of Louise Fitzhugh, The Renegade Author of Harriet the Spy - Leslie Brody. Nonfiction. As soon as I found out this book was out, I was one big long red scream of WANT! Luckily, the planets aligned; my birthday was also in December, and my friend was casting about for ideas for a present. So many interesting revelations in this biography! Like Gloria Vanderbilt (at roughly the same time) Louise Fitzhugh was at the center of an acrimonious child custody battle in Memphis. She found out all the details as a teenager, when she worked a summer job at a newspaper. She fled the south as soon as she could, and went to New York City. She lived openly as a lesbian, and was remarkably well-connected in artistic and literary circles. My eyes nearly popped out when I read that one of her partners was Constance Ford, who played Ada on Another World for decades. In spite of the richness of detail and the thoroughness of Leslie Brody's research, Fitzhugh comes off as elusive -- there were no diaries, so the reader doesn't quite get intimacy, immediacy with this fascinating woman. Kudos to Leslie Brody for first-rate spy work.

60. The Autobiography of Malcolm X - Malcolm X/Alex Haley. Nonfiction. Based on interviews Alex Haley conducted with Malcolm X for about five years, Haley organized and edited his material into a cohesive autobiography, which he explains in an extended epilogue.  Both are fascinating: Haley's collaboration with Malcolm X, as well as the actual the story of Malcolm X, who rose from poverty in the south to being a hustler in the larger northern cities like Detroit and New York, then after he was arrested and sent to prison for ten years, turned from an embittered convict to an educated, eloquent follower of Elijah Muhammad, and upon his release from prison, a leader in the Black Muslim movement, then after being cast out, finding larger truths after a pilgrimage to Mecca, then returning to America and living as a marked man. He was constantly questioning and growing and evolving and Haley captures it all in the interviews. This book has motion. It fairly pulsates. 

A Nod Back at November

 Way back in November, I plugged away at Ducks, Newburyport and completed four other books. I'm not going to finish Ducks by my birthday, but I'm on page 820, so I'm cruising into that last marathon mile. This novel will be part of my personal landscape forever.

Here's what else I read:

1. Who Was Nellie Bly? -Margaret Gurevich. Nonfiction. Nellie Bly died a little over a century ago, but judging by this biography, she'd be perfectly at home in 2020 and on social media and probably TikTok, too. She was brash, audacious and full of confidence, taking on assignments like getting herself admitted to a mental asylum, and traveling around the world in less than 80 days. But Bly wasn't just some feathery influencer. She got things done, like shining a merciless spotlight on the conditions in the mental asylum. I'm glad that she hasn't fallen into obscurity. On the contrary, author Margaret Gurevich writes so vividly that Nellie Bly fairly leaps out of the book at the reader.

2. Waterland - Graham Swift. Novel. I can't imagine what possessed me to read this book. Actually, I can. Paging Nancy Pearl! Everyone's favorite librarian has been tweeting out favorites from her backlist, and I've been avidly taking notes. It pains me to say so, but even Nancy sometimes comes up with a clunker. How to describe this book? It's like Hardy and Lawrence and Melville all got together and got drunk and decided to slop out a novel together, each taking a turn ham-fisting the quill pen. Then, that guy who wrote Goodbye, Mr. Chips dropped by and they invited him in for a pint. Oh God No. Just no.

3. The Queen's Gambit - Walter Tevis. Novel. My favorite read for the month. I was intrigued, seeing reviews of the Netflix series, and when I saw that the book was only 2 bucks on Kindle Amazon, I had to give it a go, and it did not disappoint. Just the opposite. It was a lovely mashup of Jane Eyre and The Lost Weekend and every great sports novel. Did I mention a bracing shot of feminism? The chess matches are described in detail, and I know almost nothing of the game, but Tevis makes readers feel as if they're quite knowledgeable. A quick, fluent read that delivers. I've been nagging people to read The Queen's Gambit. Consider yourself nagged. In return, you can nag me to binge watch the Netflix series.

4. Who was Theodore Roosevelt? - Michael Burgan. Nonfiction. Theodore Roosevelt was a larger-than-life character, and my admiration and sympathy goes out to author Michael Burgan who had to contain his life in the conventional 106 pages of this series. The reader can almost see the seams bursting. It's a lively read, but I was disappointed that because of the constraints, Roosevelt's near-fatal 1913 trip down the Amazon barely got two sentences. Oh well, it only makes me more determined to read River of Doubt by Candace Millard, which deals solely with the perilous journey. It's been on my wishlist for a couple of years now, ever since I audiobooked her fascinating book about James A. Garfield's assassination.