55. Girl Logic

You never forget your first.

I remember so well the first time I watched Iliza Shlesinger do standup. I was at the gym and I needed to be distracted. I need to watch or listen to something so that I won't hear myself wheezing on the treadmill. I scanned Netflix and saw one of her standup specials. I ended up having to stop several times on the treadmill because I was laughing so hard (and not because I was out of shape, you have no proof of that.)

Anyway, I fell in love with her that day. Her comedy isn't just funny, it's smart. It's sexy without being sexual for no reason. And, her observations about the insanity of women are so spot on, you find yourself thinking she must have been eavesdropping last time you were out with your friends.

I've come to love her even more through her social media accounts, where she's not only funny and smart and strong, but unapologetic about her feminism.

I had to have this book.

That's girl logic, in a nutshell. It's that voice in all of our heads that send us spiraling into confusion as we overthink every decision. It's what separates men and women - that constant second-guessing. Some of it, we can't help. Women aren't "allowed" to be sweet AND strong. We can't be both funny AND sensitive. So, we find ourselves shrinking to be what others expect of us. And, we make a lot of really stupid decisions.

Shlesinger's book, like her comedy, is observational about women, without falling into the stereotypes of "crazy bitches" and "stupid girls." It explains why we often act this way - and, better yet, gives us plenty of reasons to stop.

What I love is the way she talks about herself. Her self-awareness is empowering, as she can describe her thick legs without apologizing for doing squats. That sounds like a weird example, but I can't tell you how much better I felt about my life when I acknowledged once and for all that I have legs like a speedskater and, if they're big, I might as well make them strong (that's plagiarism - Iliza literally says this in the book.) But, it's accepting those little things that take us from shrinking violets to badass... other flowers that signify strength. Whatever those might be.

"I have to stop myself once and hour and remind myself that the universe isn't against me."

Does that sound like you? It's totally me. My girl logic tells me that the actions of others are very often the result of something I did. I know I'm not alone in this. Guy doesn't text you back? Must have been that shirt you wore. Didn't get that job? You must have blown the interview. Women have a tendency to believe we've done something wrong most of the time. This book eloquently reminded me: it's not about you. It almost never is.

I found myself laughing, which I expected. I didn't expect this book to make me emotional. I didn't expect it to make me say "right on" out loud like I'm in a Beat Generation poetry reading. And, I didn't expect to come out of it on the other side less apologetic for the strengths that have gotten me where I am.

"Always do things your way first. If you have an idea for a project, lay it out there. If you love someone, say it..."

Ain't that the truth? But, how often do we not pay attention to the voice in head that tells us to look out for ourselves? It's okay to put yourself first. It's fine to look out for your own best interests. You can do that without stomping on everyone around you. And, you can stand up for yourself without worrying that other people are going to call you "hysterical." Let 'em talk. 

So, yeah, I loved this book. It's not all "badass bitches, unite!" There are really funny things in here about how to text certain types of dudes, the types of fashion you should never wear, etc. But, more than that, it's an absolute confidence builder for women who know they're strong and smart and have a voice, but maybe aren't quite comfortable with how to use it.

And, dudes? You should read it, too. At least if you want to understand where our heads are at once in awhile... 

54. Sing, Unburied, Sing

Read any list of Best Books for 2017, you'll see Jesmyn Ward's third novel. But, just because a book is critically acclaimed doesn't mean a reader will think it's any good. It's like Oscars. They often pick the sweeping epic as Best Picture even though no one would actually want to sit through The English Patient and say they enjoyed it.

This book, though? This book is both good for the critic and good for the reader. It's rich and dark and hopeful and desperate. Above all, it's beautifully written.

Set in rural, poor Mississippi and inside a family torn by racism and poverty, Ward brings the story to life through the points of view of several characters. Most notably, 13-year old JoJo. The product of a meth-addicted black mother and an imprisoned, abusive white father, he's old enough to know the pain that surrounds him. He's also the lifeline for his young sister Kayla, who reaches for him before all others. Raised largely by their strong, silent grandfather and their grandmother who now battles cancer, the children manage to find love in their grandparents and each other, even as an abusive world swirls around them.

JoJo and his grandfather have an exceptionally close relationship. It's clearly Pop that's guiding him to become a man. But, Pop can't go along as the family goes to pick up JoJo's father from prison. And, what happens along the way on that road trip is heart wrenching. 

We hear the story from JoJo's perspective at first and it's easy to see his mother Leonie as a villain of the highest order. Just when you're ready to write her off, the narrative switches to her point of view. You don't exactly sympathize, but maybe you begin to understand the desperation that lives inside her, too. Where does she direct her love? To the man she's picking up from prison? To her children who won't call her Mom? To her dying mother? Or to the ghost of her murdered brother who appears to her every time she gets high? 

Ward's characters are rich and multi-dimensional and her storytelling is beautifully evocative, yet somehow simple, too. It's about love and family and racism and poverty - and, about the things that chase us until we acknowledge them and can finally close the door. All along, it's subtly building to a climax that's so powerful, it had me holding my breath for 10 or more pages. It reminds me of the first time I read Toni Morrison's Beloved, which remains one of my favorite books of all time. Both are books that are entirely real, with a touch of supernatural. Both have characters you'll never forget.

Is it one of the year's best? It certainly was for me. I imagine it will be taught in high school and college lit classes for years to come. But, you don't have to write a paper on it or take a test. You can just read it and let it swallow you whole.

53. Daredevils

Of course it happens at the end of this magical year of books. I'm totally late writing last week's review! I actually finished this book on a flight to Washington, DC last Friday, but life has been a whirlwind of crazy ever since. 

What's also a whirlwind of crazy? This book. In a good way, of course.

It feels a little like reading something your neighbor wrote. Now, I don't know specifically where Shawn Vestal lives, but he lives in my city and I've been reading his work for years. Vestal writes for our local newspaper and I've long been a fan of his. I don't always agree on the topic or take, but I have a deep appreciation for the way he writes. I don't know why it took me so long to read his first novel.

Daredevils tells the story of a young woman caught in a polygamist marriage. Strange fact about me: I've spent a fair amount of my journalism career reporting on religious fundamentalists and have spent some time just north of the border in a polygamist community in British Columbia. I've interviewed women who have left the community, women who stay and claim to love their lives, and the guy with dozens of wives known simply as the "Bishop of Bountiful." Through my reporting and researching, I've come to know quite a bit about the topic. I instantly recognized the girl in the book as one of those young women I've met.

Loretta is desperate for another life. Circumstances bring her to the front door of freedom and, while it takes her awhile, she bangs down that door and barrels through. She ends up on a journey with two young men, all of them looking for freedom. But freedom, they often forget to tell you, comes with consequence.

Loretta is on a collision course with disaster and she's ready to bring everyone else along for the ride. The idea of freedom is enough. Freedom from the man who calls her his wife, freedom from the parents willing to let her go, freedom from the men determined to save her. Freedom, finally, from everyone else's expectations.

Like much of what he writes in the newspaper, Vestal's work here is crisp, thoughtful and subtly profound. It's easy to move through this book, following along on this fated journey. It's worth your time to see where Loretta ultimately ends up.

52. You Don't Have To Say You Love Me

I didn't expect to be writing this today. I wrote a review yesterday of last week's book and was about to get started on this one. I chose this book of the three in my current "to read" pile because it was the longest of the three. I have a flight to DC and back next weekend and thought that would give me plenty of time to finish it.

Less than 24 hours, it's done.

I don't know if I devoured this book as much as it devoured me. There's no way this review will do it justice.

Sherman Alexie is something of a local boy to us here in Spokane. Technically, he grew up on the Spokane Indian Reservation about an hour away, but he was born here and is a fixture of the local literary community. He's a big freaking deal - and, we once had a Twitter messaging exchange before he quit the platform, so we're basically close friends. Okay, maybe not. But, I'm a fan. 

I heard about his memoir earlier this year, but didn't have a terribly strong desire to read it. I'm not much of a memoir gal. Then, I read this open letter to his readers about how talking about this book was haunting him so much, he ended his book tour early. I felt the subject matter might be too heavy for someone trying to crank through a book every week. Still, it kept coming up. In list after list of the "best books of 2017" there was Sherman Alexie. I borrowed it from a co-worker and prepared myself for an emotional struggle.

The book is a remembrance of Alexie's mom, who passed away in 2015. It's not a glowing look back at a life, well-lived. It's the heart-wrenching reality of life on the reservation; it's a tale of a young man lucky to have escaped a father who drank too much and a mother who lied. A lot. Alexie made peace somehow with the father who abandon his family many times - who never did much to provide a good life. But, you see in story after poem after prose-laden chapter that Alexie has not come to terms with the relationship between mother and son. He was relieved when she died. And, tormented by guilt and grief.

And, it's so much more than that.

The book explores all the ghosts of Alexie's past. The bullies that tormented him through childhood, the brain injury that defined his birth and young life, the decisions he made to leave the reservation he left behind in order to find the man he was supposed to become. The scars are literal and figurative and you find yourself wanting to look away from a man laying himself so bare.

But, you don't. You dig and dive and devour until you realize you've been holding your breath for 449 pages. And, on page 450, you break. And, you still have five pages left.

It's not a "cry your eyes out" kind of book. It's powerful and moving and incredibly sad, but it's Alexie's story to tell. Because some of the most painful revelations come in the form of poetry, it's as if the reader is somehow one additional step removed. 

His writing his breathtakingly beautiful. His experiences are hauntingly sad. His life on the reservation is frustratingly common. He got out - but, never escaped. He describes his theology as a verb: return. Like that spawning salmon that defined his tribe for centuries, he is constantly returning to his childhood home. To his memories. To his grief.

I loved this book because it cracked open my chest and settled in my heart. I love it because he talks about places I've been and people I know and stories I've covered in the news. I love it because the writing his damn near perfect. I love it because, ultimately, it is hopeful.

I could go on. And, on. And, on. It's much easier to let the work speak for itself. One of the last I'll read this year and, undoubtedly, one of the best.

51. Good Omens

When you dedicate a year of your life to reading, you learn a little bit about yourself along the way. Here I am, book 51, and I learned a powerful and surprising lesson: I don't really like to read funny books.

What? 

I know. It's weird. Especially if you know me. I can laugh at just about anything. Humor is both my security blanket and my ace-in-the-hole. I think God made me funny so I wouldn't complain about not being a 5'10" supermodel. But, it took this very well-written, very funny book for me to realize I'd rather keep humor and reading separate.

Let me explain.

This book was recommended to me by a very smart, very well-read co-worker. We tend to agree almost universally about books and swap back and forth all the time. She gave me this book to read after I read Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book (which was really unique, but not at all funny. I loved it.) She described as something like Monty Python and she's dead-on with that. But, for some reason, it sat on my shelf while I picked up other books instead. This week, it was time. 

As the novel opens, the authors are setting the state for the end of the world. Not in an R.E.M. kind of way, but in a "antichrist and the four horsemen" kind of way. But, there are problems from the get-go. For one, an absent minded nun has misplaced the Antichrist. And, two angels (one truly angelic, one fallen) are trying to stop the inevitable Armageddon from taking place. Why? Turns out, they've become quite fond of the human race and would like to see it continue. By the time the four horsemen ride in - on motorcycles, no less - things are in chaos and it's hard to say exactly to what we are careening towards.

It's satire, it's whip-smart and it's fascinating. But, for whatever reason, I just couldn't get into it. Maybe the names were too confusing and complicated. Maybe the subject matter was too far-fetched. Maybe I had too much Nyquil this week (no maybe there, actually. That's true.) But, while I found myself fully appreciating what it takes to pull off writing a novel like this, I couldn't wait to close the book and be done with it.

So, maybe I don't like funny in my books after all. 

I'll definitely read more Gaiman. I'll definitely take more book suggestions from Tracy, who is insanely smart and witty herself. But, I'll be going back to more serious tomes to round out my year of books. And, the next one is going to plunge me deep into darkness... Stay tuned...

50. Those Who Wish Me Dead

I didn't expect it to go so quickly.

Book 50 was a page turner in the truest sense. It begins with a bang and carries you from chapter to chapter with mini-cliffhangers (that hyphenated word initially auto-corrected to mini cheeseburgers, which are freaking awesome, by the way. And, that is not the point.) 

Back to the book.

It begins in Indiana with an 11-year old boy stumbling, quite literally, upon a body. The man is underwater, handcuffed with his throat slit. Moments later, the boy witnesses a murder and the fight for his life is on.

For his protection, Jace is moved to a wilderness camp in Montana. They believe it's the only way to keep him safe from two brothers who are hunting him. He finds safety, at least briefly, with a woman working in a fire lookout who is being chased by her own personal demons. Next thing you know, bodies are stacking up, the forest is on fire and Jace and everyone committed to protect him is running for their lives.

The book sounds like the kind of mystery/thriller my mom likes to read and she consumes these things like I would like to be consuming mini-cheeseburgers (Note to self: don't write reviews when you forgot to eat lunch.) For the most part, I think of thrillers like this as fast food - it's good when you want it and it will fill you up, but it won't really sustain you in any sort of meaningful way. The difference here is that the writing is actually really good. The characters are strong and well-developed and the story itself is compelling enough that you want to stay engaged. And, there's a twist I didn't see coming.

The drama is vivid enough that I was actually scared at times. In the two nights it took to finish it, I ended up reading more than I would have because I was too scared to turn off my light and go to sleep! So, if that's your kind of thing, you'll love it. 

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a date with tiny cheeseburgers.