Last I wrote here, I shared my goal to read fifty books in 2018. I’m happy to report that I succeeded, while also admitting that it was kind of a sprint to the finish. I’ve been reflecting on what my reading meant to me, how it felt to read more consistently than I possibly ever have. What did I glean from those fifty books? Am I a more engaged reader and/or thinker because of them...
Despite my silence here, 2018, so far, has been one of my busiest reading years to date. The decision to read more was intentional, but other than setting a goal number of books to read for the year I put no other limits or expectations on myself. I also removed the pressure to write about what I was reading. I wanted to read for the sake of reading for pleasure and out of curiosity. Perhaps the...
Subtitle: An Introduction to Talking Cats and Moody Plants Earlier this week I started reading Yan Lianke’s The Explosion Chronicles, and I have been captivated with it from the get-go. At first I was a little nervous, as the book promised to be a sweeping history of Explosion, the book’s fictional town (or city, or metropolis, depending on where you are in the story), and it took a...
In my experiences with physical endeavors (running and yoga), the most important lesson I’ve learned over the years is that being able to plow through anything is not the ultimate sign of development or maturity, it’s knowing when to pull back. I’m not sure why I’ve been so hesitant to apply this truth to my reading life as well. There’s always a certain guilt, or...
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