*Note: Books are rated on the proprietary Spoon Scale. See rating details at the bottom of the page.
In my time right after undergraduate school, writing came easy. I was a good student and was well-practiced in the art of banging out 20-page tomes from my college-worn keyboard on topics that I, quite frankly, didn’t care much about. So when it came to writing about things I did care about, like my latest meal for a Yelp review, or spinning love letters to my then-fiancé, the words flowed easily.
But after nearly a decade of limiting my writing life to curt emails to teachers about schedule changes, or chatting with Amazon bots about returning broken goods, I found that the Muse didn't visit as frequently.
In times like these, I find no better cure than to open the covers of a book and unleash a fresh flow of good writing into my stale brain. In 2022, my bookish life has been off to a strong start. I regret that I didn’t think to start this blog as soon as the new year's ball dropped, because some of these reads have already waned to mere wisps of characters and plots in my aging memory bank. But I’ll do what I can do share my most recent reads for the month.
Must Love Books, by Shauna Robinson
I picked this one out of sheer love for the title. How could I not, when ‘must love books’ could practically serve as my own personals ad? (That James is not, not, not a reader – pausing for gasps here – has always been evidence to me of Cupid’s way with ironic and impossible romance)
To me, encountering a ‘perfect book’ has always been a confluence of good writing and sweet timing, and this debut novel nearly ticked both boxes. Nora Hughes, the main character and a booklover who languishes in her dead-end job at a publishing company, serendipitously entered my life as I was attempting to make personal peace around a potential career change. The cartoony cover and the simple, straightforward writing will initially appeal to those looking for a quick read. Sure, there is some chuckle-worthy wit and a love interest with an author who provides a perfect plot conflict, but you’ve been officially warned - there are some heavier topics like depression and moral dilemmas that made me expel the kind of sigh I only release after a full journey with a deep character.
Rating: 🥄🥄🥄🥄 4 spoons
A History of Wild Places, by Shea Ernshaw
Imagine if you could just magically intuit everything you wanted to know about something by touching something they owned. Then you’d have a gift similar to Travis Wren’s, who counts his ability as both a blessing and a curse. Hired by desperate and heartbroken families, Travis uses this unique power to locate missing people through their last effects by reliving their last moments before disappearing. At the start of the book, we see him trying to channel his ability to track Maggie St. James - a famous children’s author who disappeared five years earlier - with a tiny book bracelet charm of hers that was found in the deep woods of a quiet rural town.
From here the story seems to come to an abrupt halt as that search story disappears and Travis himself vanishes from the stage. Instead, we’re introduced to a remote cult-like commune called Pastoral, where its inhabitants seek to live off the grid for fear of a mysterious illness they call ‘the rot’.
This was a highly atmospheric read, with heavy suspense and a slow unwind. Moving through its pages required enduring faith that these seemingly disparate plots would eventually fit together. But once it did, wow. Hello, plot twist.
Rating: 🥄🥄🥄🥄 4.5 spoons
The Man Who Ate Everything, by Jeffrey Steingarten
Upon his appointment as Vogue's new food editor, Jeffrey Steingarten set out to correct all of his food-related disinclinations, believing they would cloud a proper sense of objectivity in his new job (or, as he so aptly described it, "I feared I could be no more objective than an art critic who detests the color yellow or suffers from red-green colorblindness"). I loved the premise but became beleaguered by the execution. Each chapter is a deep dive into one particular food type, and I quickly grew tired of some pages that leaned hard into the science of foods. That being said, it's not for nothing that Jeffrey Steingarten was once described to me as a "walking food encyclopedia." He clearly wields an exhaustive knowledge base of all things food-related and it may be some readers' cup of tea. As for me, I think I prefer sweet, milky coffee.
Rating: 🥄🥄 2 spoons
The Lincoln Highway, by Amor Towles
I feel I should preface my comments on this book by self-categorizing my forthcoming opinions as the minute minority. Amor Towles is a powerful writer whose immersive plots and colorful characters become like dear, beloved friends. His books are, in a word, sticky. The people in his books often continue to haunt, whisper, and remind me that they exist long after the last pages have been read. On Goodreads, there are already pages of effusive praise for this latest work.
Mine was not one of them.
Maybe that was why I struggled with this story so much. Set in 1954, eighteen-year-old Emmett Watson was prematurely released from a sentence at a work farm for involuntary manslaughter because his father had just passed away, leaving him and his somewhat savant eight-year-old brother, Billy, alone in the world. To make things worse, their father’s former debt caused the bank to foreclose on their farmhouse, which led the two brothers to launch a plan to head toward California with the only remaining possession he had left – a powder blue Studebaker, whose presence in this plot is so prevalent, it nearly serves as another character.
So does the Lincoln Highway, the eponymous stretch of road from New York to California, by which the two brothers plan to make their way. Their plans are unexpectedly foiled when Duchess and Woolly, two escapees from Emmett’s detention center, show up at their doorstep with a proposal to use Emmett's car to head in the opposite direction toward New York City, spring Woolly’s inheritance from a family safe, and split it four ways. From there, everything that could go wrong does, mainly because of unstable, headstrong Duchess. For me, the stress of watching these two beloved brothers encounter one frustrating roadblock after another was akin to watching two sweet baby penguins meet and narrowly escape a string of predators, despite their innocence, resourcefulness, and best efforts. I grew irate with Mr. Towles the way I would the film producer. Why, oh why, would you make me fall in love with these beings if you’re just going to be complicit in their struggles?
The point is, I cared. And I felt things. In the end, I read all the way to the end out of a desperate need to see things come together for Billy and Emmett. If it helps, they meet wonderful new friends who somewhat redeemed the long journey. But it says something that two weeks after I’ve returned the book to the library, I’ve completely forgotten how it ends; I only remember feeling stressed.
Rating: 🥄🥄🥄 3 spoons
