I’ve really kicked off my quest to read 50 books this year with a bang. I’m already a good chunk of the way in, so I thought I’d share with you the highs and lows. The links lead to the coherent full reviews I wrote.
Now, I know reading book reviews can be a little dry, so I’m gonna try to bring the sexy back à la Justin Timberlake style (although I am underwhelmed by his new stuff so far, but I digress).
Dark Places by Gillian Flynn » Love. This thriller is stripped down to a full frontal with bad lighting, letting it all hang out, unapologetic and a little scary but you just. can’t. look. away.
Seating Arrangements by Maggie Shipstead » Meh. This character study is all bikinis, fake smiles, lobsters and clumsy groping in the dark. Just stop already.
The Gospel According to Sydney Welles by Susi Rajah » Meh. This rom-com is all, “Oh, I found the perfect pair of underwear! Wait … they’re giving me a wedgie. Oops, I was wrong. They were perfect the whole time!” Sigh.
Beta by Rachel Cohn » Infatuated. This futuristic sci-fi comes to the party, does a pretty enjoyable strip tease, then opens the door and invites in two more strippers. Should you let them in? Sure, why not, let’s see what will happen.
This Little Piggy Went to the Liquor Store by AK Turner » Love. This funny little memoir is the best kind of sloppy drunk kiss: the kind you don’t regret later.
When She Woke by Hillary Jordan » Love. This dystopian novel is demure and puritan at first, then breaks out the spiked heels and the whip. You raise your eyebrows, but you are happy to keep reading.
Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn » Love. See Dark Places, above.
Shades of Earth by Beth Revis » Love. How to best end a dystopian trilogy in space? Like an intergalactic burlesque show, that’s how, with one sexy reveal after another. Sometimes you can’t believe what you’re seeing, but that doesn’t make it any less exciting.
Room by Emma Donoghue » Love. There is nothing sexy (even silly sexy) about this book. But trust me, it’s a really, really good book.
Mick Jagger by Philip Norman » Hate. This bio. It’s like crawling into bed full of anticipation, only to find out your lover is snoozing under the covers. And I’m being generous here.
There you have it. I’ve read 10 out of 50 books so far this year. Nine of them were by written by women, and the one that was written by a man I absolutely loathed. I certainly wasn’t paying attention to that, and didn’t even realize it till I typed this out just now. Weird how these things happen, and now I’m eager to prove that I’m not a warped man-hater. I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it for now.
What have you been reading? I’m always on the lookout for a good read.
