2012 in review: Books

For the seventh year, here are the books I read between last January and December. Number crunching to follow:

1. Blow Fly - Patricia Cornwell
2. The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet - David Mitchell
3. Austenland - Shannon Hale
4. Haunted Kenosha - Candice Shatkins
5. House of Prayer No. 2 - Mark Richard
6. Blood, Bones & Butter - Gabrielle Hamilton
7. The Tiger's Wife - Téa Obreht
8. The Nerdist Way - Chris Hardwick
9. The Leftovers - Tom Perrotta
10. Life Itself - Roger Ebert
11. In Zanesville - Jo Ann Beard
12. Contents May Have Shifted - Pam Houston
13. Poser: My Life in Twenty-Three Yoga Poses - Claire Dederer
14. Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? - Mindy Kaling
15. Midnight in Austenland - Shannon Hale
16. The Actor and the Housewife - Shannon Hale
17. Stories I Only Tell My Friends - Rob Lowe
18. The Mermaid Chair - Sue Monk Kidd
19. Best American Science Writing 2011 - Rebecca Skloot & Floyd Skloot, Eds.
20. The Stand - Stephen King
21. Carry the One - Carol Anshaw
22. SEAL Team Six - Howard E. Wasdin & Stephen Templin
23. The Westing Game - Ellen Raskin
24. Happy Accidents - Jane Lynch
25. Cool, Calm, & Contentious - Merrill Markoe
26. Maphead - Ken Jennings
27. Looking for Alaska - John Green
28. The Fault in Our Stars - John Green
29. On Celestial Music - Rick Moody
30. Drowning Instinct - Ilsa J. Bick
31. 1Q84 - Haruki Murakami
32. Inside Scientology - Janet Reitman
33. Defending Jacob - William Landay
34. Inventory - The Writers of the A.V. Club
35. Paper Towns - John Green
36. This Is How - Augusten Burroughs
37. An Abundance of Katherines - John Green
38. Menu Design in America - Steven Heller, Jim Heimann (ed.), John Mariani
39. Travels in Siberia - Ian Frazier
40. Graceling - Kristin Cashore
41. Nerd Do Well - Simon Pegg
42. Will Grayson, Will Grayson - John Green, David Levithan
43. Fire - Kristin Cashore
44. Looking for Calvin and Hobbes - Nevin Martell
45. The Road - Cormac McCarthy
46. The War for Late Night - Bill Carter
47. The Machine Gunners - Robert Westall
48. The Lightning Thief - Rick Riordan
49. The Curfew - Jesse Ball
50. The Sea of Monsters - Rick Riordan
51. The Age of Miracles - Karen Thompson Walker
52. The Magicians - Lev Grossman
53. Pulphead - John Jeremiah Sullivan
54. This is Not a Test - Courtney Summers
55. A Hologram for the King - Dave Eggers
56. The Red House - Mark Haddon
57. The Perks of Being a Wallflower - Stephen Chbosky
58. River Town - Peter Hessler
59. The Likeness - Tana French
60. Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe - Benjamin Alire Saenz
61. The Garden Intrigue - Lauren Willig
62. Faithful Place - Tana French
63. Unaccustomed Earth - Jhumpa Lahiri
64. Nothing to Envy: Ordinary Lives in North Korea - Barbara Demick
65. Bitterblue - Kristin Cashore
66. A Complicated Kindness - Miriam Toews
67. Trip of the Tongue - Elizabeth Little
68. My Life Next Door - Huntley Fitzpatrick
69. Betsy-Tacy - Maud Hart Lovelace
70. Betsy-Tacy and Tib - Maud Hart Lovelace
71. Broken Harbor - Tana French
72. The Dog Stars - Peter Heller
73. Penelope - Rebecca Harrington
74. Dreamland: Adventures in the Strange Science of Sleep - David K. Randall
75. The Lost Prince - Selden Edwards
76. State of Wonder - Ann Patchett
77. Bel Canto - Ann Patchett
78. Betsy-Tacy Companion: A Biography of Maud Hart Lovelace - Sharla Whalen
79. Out of My Mind - Sharon M. Draper
80. Where'd You Go, Bernadette - Maria Semple
81. If I Stay - Gayle Forman
82. The Guardian of All Things - Michael S. Malone
83. Visiting Tom - Michael Perry
84. Before I Fall - Lauren Oliver
85. The First 20 Minutes - Gretchen Reynolds
86. In the Woods - Tana French
87. The Mansion of Happiness - Jill Lepore
88. Rebuilt - Michael Chorost
89. No Easy Day - Mark Owen
90. A Season for Tending - Cindy Woodsmall
91. The Art of Fielding - Chad Harbach
92. Shadows - Ilsa J. Bick
93. Sweet Tooth - Ian McEwan
94. The Raven Boys - Maggie Stiefvater
95. Flight Behavior - Barbara Kingsolver
96. Elsewhere - Richard Russo
97. Curse of the Thirteenth Fey - Jane Yolen
98. The Scorpio Races - Maggie Stiefvater

Total books read: 98. 14 more more than I read in 2011, and tantalizingly close to triple digits.

Previously read: 1 (1%) Much less than last year's 18%.

Marketed for children/teens: 26 (26%) More than last year's 17%, and I think this is directly related to the "previously read" statistic above. When I read books I've read before, my goal is usually easy entertainment. If I know a book already, I don't need to think about it too hard to enjoy it. In 2012, I realized that books written for juvenile readers can offer the same benefits even if I have not read them before. Which isn't to say they're all mindless fluff - some of those books were really awesome.

Fiction: 63 (64%)
Nonfiction: 35 (36%)
Lighter on fiction than last year's 71% - 29% split.

You should definitely read: Nothing to Envy: Ordinary Lives in North Korea by Barbara Demick, and The Mansion of Happiness by Jill Lepore. Nothing to Envy tells the stories of a handful of North Korean citizens over the past fifteen years; their lives in North Korea and their lives today. The Mansion of Happiness is a collection of pieces that originally appeared in the New Yorker, all touching on some aspect of how Americans have historically viewed life and death. Both of these books taught me a startling number of things I didn't know before (a hallmark of excellent nonfiction), while still being so engaging that I had trouble putting them down (for me, much more common to fiction). And the things I learned from each book weren't just filed away for future reference. They inspired multiple animated conversations with friends, because I simply had to discuss them with people. ("Oh my god, did you know abortion wasn't even a partisan issue until 1971, when the Republican Party decided to make it one in hopes of dividing the Democratic Party!?")

Don't bother reading: The Actor and the Housewife by Shannon Hale. Okay, I know, you're probably thinking, "Well, it is called 'The Actor and the Housewife.' And you still read it." This is true. But I am a non-snobby reader; an unashamed consumer of a good, fluffy novel. That's not what I got with this book. It seemed promising for awhile, but fell completely flat in the end. The events in the story require a truckload of disbelief suspension, which isn't a deal breaker by itself. But when the characters' actions don't even make consistent sense from one chapter to the next, there's nothing to fall back on.

It's in my honey, it's in my milk

I've been thinking a lot about words lately; the power they have in general and the power they hold for me, in particular. It's no secret that I love music. It's true that certain progressions of notes, a certain guitar chord, a certain rhythm, can soothe me or make me feel happy or sad (in a good way), and any number of other emotions. But what really move me are words.

It's not only music, but poetry and prose. When something resonates, I want to simultaneously collect it - take it in, hold it close, carry it with me - and also share it with others. I want others to recognize what I did; to feel the same way. Realizing that words don't do the same thing to everyone doesn't change the impulse. Some people horde material things. I horde words. It's less apparent, and I hope it's more constructive, but I don't know if it would make a difference either way. It is what it is. It is me.

For the past couple of days, this beautiful sad song has been in my head.  It was written about depression, but like any good song or poem, it fits what you need it to fit. Right now, it's doing a good job of summing up pervasive sadness.

Sorrow found me when I was young
Sorrow waited, sorrow won
Sorrow they put me on the pill
It's in my honey, it's in my milk
Don't leave my hyper heart alone 
on the water
Cover me in rag and bone sympathy
Cause I don't want to get over you
I don't want to get over you

Sorrow's my body on the waves
Sorrow's a girl inside my cave
I live in a city sorrow built
It's in my honey, it's in my milk
Don't leave my hyper heart alone
on the water
Cover me in rag and bone sympathy
Cause I don't want to get over you
I don't want to get over you

"Sorrow"
The National

Rivers and roads

 I know my blogging has been sporadic in the past year or so, and I'm not sure there's a great explanation for it. I'm on the computer for a large part of the day every day - it's my job, for one thing - and I have a Facebook account, an Instagram account, a Twitter account, a Flickr account, and email. That's a lot of online stuff to keep up, and the avenues of more immediate communication tend to win out over the blog. I don't see the tide turning anytime soon. I'll write from time to time when the mood strikes, but if you're so inclined, you can find me on Twitter @BeeeKay - yep, three E's - and/or Instagram where I'm beeekay1. Flickr is linked from the blog already.

Since I am writing, what's been going on in the last couple of months? I'm working on a totally new project with different people in a new office at work, so that's been quite interesting. I went to the Hideout Block Party in Chicago a couple weekends ago, and saw and heard some bands - the Waco Brothers, Kelly Hogan, Wye Oak, and Wilco among them. I spent much of the day at the merch tent, where my friends were volunteering, and it was a good vantage from which to enjoy the block party's relaxed vibe. Performers and their families are able to walk around without hassle: mingling with friends, stopping over to get change from their merchandise sales, etc.  I watched Wilco's set from the sound booth, a fun perspective at a festival. It was interesting to see the lighting adjusted in real time and the video screen of the stage projections. Many of them I never would have guessed, especially not from up front.

This past Wednesday, I saw Andrew Bird in Madison with Tamala and Rob. Andrew rarely disappoints, and his set at the Overture was different from the one I saw at a ballpark in Geneva, and also from the last time I saw him play a theater in Milwaukee. The band played new songs from the upcoming Hands of Glory, including one freshly written in August. They did four or five acoustic songs around the old-timey microphone. Included were a Handsome Family cover I hadn't seen from them before ("When That Helicopter Comes"), and a Townes Van Zandt cover in the first encore. There were only a handful of songs from anything earlier than the most recent two albums (and the future album). One of the older songs was "Don't Be Scared," one of my all-time faves. And another Handsome Family song, come to think of it. I would be remiss if I didn't mention that the lighting and projections at the show were superb. So beautiful. Patterns and shadows were manipulated to great effect using the spinning horn sculptures hanging above the stage. I didn't take any photos, but the ones in the linked article are excellent.

Last night I saw The Head and the Heart and Blitzen Trapper at the sold-out Capitol Theater with some friends from work. I'd never seen either band before, and enjoyed the show very much. I was happy (if not surprised) to hear my favorite Blitzen Trapper song, "Furr." The headlining Head and the Heart came out firing on all cylinders. They mentioned they've been touring on their self-titled album for more than two years now, and it showed - it seems they have all the song performances down to a science. Which is not to say that things seemed stale, because they definitely did not. The crowd on the floor fed off the band's energy, dancing and bouncing and clapping during the faster songs. To flesh out the setlist, the band also played a handful of newer songs, including a solo tune during the encore that Josiah Johnson said he'd never played at a show.

 

And today, Saturday, seemed like a perfect day to enjoy the fall foliage in Wisconsin. I took a drive up to Taliesin, home of Frank Lloyd Wright. I'm an admirer of architecture in general and the Prairie style in particular, so I'm not sure why I've lived an hour away from Taliesin for years and never made the trip before. I decided on the house and garden tour, which was great (if expensive). Today's weather was perfect, and I find it hard to imagine how the landscape at any other time of year could compare to a sunny day on the cusp of October. After Taliesin I had lunch in downtown Spring Green and then took "Scenic Byway" 60 east for about thirty miles to enjoy the rolling hills, multicolored trees, and Wisconsin River before cutting back down south for home. Central Wisconsin may not be Maine when it comes to the autumn landscape, but it is jaw-droppingly beautiful in places - especially the Driftless Region where the glaciers never intruded on the hills.

Summer vacation

 

Brooklyn did indeed take me in when I left Maryland, and was my home for three days. This was enough time to enjoy Park Slope’s culinary offerings in the German and bagel departments, and take in two Celebrate Brooklyn concerts in Prospect Park by Wilco and two Lees (Fields and Ranaldo). I was also thrilled to get some quality hangout time with Allison and her family, and of course my gracious hosts Kristina and fam. As an extra special bonus, each family includes one of the most adorable babies of all time.  

The concerts were everything I’d hoped for. A rainstorm on Night One couldn’t dampen (har har) the crowd’s enthusiasm, and my friends and I lucked out in our positioning: we were just under the edge of the stage overhang. Night Two had better weather, though it was still hot. Both shows sounded excellent, and the crowd was in top form – as a sea of fans clapped along for the intro to “Monday,” Jeff claimed this was what he dreamed about. “I’m going to cry.” As si typical for a multi-night run of shows in the same city, the first night’s setlist was more familiar than the second, which contained more surprises. I’ll bet you can guess which I prefer. 

I should also mention that the catering for the Celebrate Brooklyn shows was superb: affordable small dishes from The Farm on Adderley. It’s not every day that you get to stand in front of a big concert stage and scarf up grilled eggplant sliders, truffle fries, a bowl of creamy polenta with slow-cooked beef, or a kale salad. The food prep area was close to the stage, leading to some distractingly tasty aromas during the show. Jeff announced that it was the most like bacon things had ever smelled during one of their shows. 

After the second Brooklyn show, some friends and I headed to the bar at the McKittrick Hotel for a late-night Autumn Defense performance. The full Autumn Defense band was in the house, which is always a plus. In such an intimate venue it’s hard not to run into people and start chatting, but we eventually made it out for a late late meal and back home.

I decided to forego the third Wilco show in NYC – a late addition at Terminal 5. Though missing the last show of any multi-night stand is kind of a cardinal sin (and I did feel a little pain when I saw the setlist), the sacrifice was more than worth it for four days in upstate NY and Vermont. Allison and I began our road trip driving from NYC to Malone – getting mistaken for college students along the way! – with a brief pit stop at Lake George.

 

Why Malone, you ask? Well, that’s easy. Malone is where Farmer Boy grew up! The childhood farm and homestead of Almanzo Wilder (husband of Laura Ingalls Wilder) is in Malone, and it offers tours to visitors. When Allison came across this information earlier in the year, we knew it was only a matter of time before we made a pilgrimage. Who knew the opportunity would arise so soon?

The Wilder Farm tour was great, led by a local high school girl who grew up on a farm nearby. We were shown all of Father’s innovations in the barns, admired Mother’s weaving loom, saw the actual spot on the parlor wall – and photographic evidence from the restoration – where Almanzo threw the blacking brush at Eliza Jane (!!!) and were set free to wander the grounds and eat the Wilder blueberries after the tour was finished. 

 Malone wasn’t just about the Wilders, though – okay, it mostly was, but there were a few other things to do. We went antiquing, toured the town Historical Society, went out to dinner with one of our fellow B&B guests, and explored the B&B itself. The original owners of the home left their entire library – they were mystery fans. Our bedroom upstairs was cozy and quaint, and I’d nearly forgotten what it was like to have windows and shades open at night and not have light flooding in. Ah, Adirondacks.

From Malone, Al and I drove and ferried to Vermont, where our first order of business was Shelburne Museum. Ever since my first Shelburne visit five years ago, I’ve looked forward to returning. We had a gorgeous day to wander the museum, and made the best of our time: we managed to hit almost every building on the grounds before closing. My one disappointment was that the 1950 House – one of my favorite exhibits – is no more. However, we still saw the Circus Building, the train car, the steamboat, the apothecary and general store, and the print shop! The guy manning the print shop gave us free letter press posters, featuring molds he carved himself, so SCORE. The changing exhibits were interesting, and included a selection of super creepy dolls (this wasn’t the actual theme of the exhibit, but they were), a bunch of quilts made by men dating back as far as the Civil War, and a collection of robots and steam punk art. They even provided steam punk dress-up clothes.

We didn’t have lots of time in Burlington, but made it to a fine farm-to-table restaurant on Friday evening and strolled the ped mall by night. I didn’t stick around long enough to find out if the guy juggling fire on the street would bust out a tightrope and unicycle. On Saturday morning we hit the downtown farmer’s market and craft fair. The Madison farmer’s market is about ten times the size of Burlington’s, but for all that, Burlington had a far more eclectic selection of food vendors. We sampled cider, mint and maple lemonade, and could have chosen from all manner of ethnic culinary delights. I made a few craft purchases, and discovered that the woman who made my dress pattern wallet – which I still love dearly – has given up crafting for med school.  

After a leisurely walk and lunch on the shore of Lake Champlain, it was time to head out. By evening I was in my hotel room in Hartford, and flew out Sunday morning. It was an excellent trip, with wonderful friends, and I can’t wait for the next one. The next one isn’t scheduled yet, but it’s only a matter of time. 

Brooklyn, Brooklyn, take me in

I'm on summer vacation! Here is my view while writing, from the lovely home (deep in the ILC) of H&R:

I've so far dined on delicious steamed crabs, laughed so hard my stomach hurt, and seen two concerts. The Lower Dens at the Rock and Roll Hotel in D.C. ("voted the worst-sounding small venue!") played a loud, atmospheric show to the nearly-home-town crowd. Their closing song included a guest who stationed himself front and center on stage and performed yoga, which was something I'd never seen at a show before. He was certainly limber!

Last night I saw part of the Xponential fest in Camden (second-most-dangerous city in the U.S., and they just laid off half the police force!) which was a lot of fun. Philadelphia-based Dr. Dog was the first band on the night's bill, and also playing to a nearly-home-town audience. Second up were the Avett Brothers, whose incredible energy spilled out into the crowd. Seth's voice was sounding a bit ragged, but he still gave it his all. As their set ended I wished they could play another hour or two, but there was still one more band left to play.

I didn't actually mind, because that band was Wilco. As headliners they got a whopping extra fifteen minutes over the other bands. As expected for a short festival set, most of the setlist was culled from the major crowd-pleasers played on a regular basis. They did play "She's A Jar," however, which was a welcome surprise. I could listen to "Laminated Cat" any night of the week, and "Box Full of Letters" also sounded particularly sweet on Saturday. A late-night cheese steak in downtown Philly was the capper on the evening.

In a few hours I'm off to Brooklyn. I'll see more friends, see some more music ... and then we are headed north.

Summer!

C is for Cookie

C is for cookie, and this may not be a book cover, but it still follows the pattern. What are Cookie's other favorite songs? Maybe he had a secret soft spot for love ballads, or calypso. Or hair bands. In college, when we lived in the dorms together, my friend Anya and I listened to "Me Lost Me Cookie At the Disco" all the time. It was a great song to get psyched up for going out. (Which may give you more insight into our personalities than I had intended.) It was also good for a study break. Or any time, really. A quick YouTube search turned up a video featuring Cookie Monster in a glittery bow tie and bracelets, at the disco, with female Muppet backup singers. Check it out!



In 2006, at our second basement show, Mart played "C is for Cookie" for a friend's young son. He added a few lyrics, including "B is for bookie." Gotta give it a little Jersey style. The night also featured covers of Burt and Ernie songs, as well as SpongeBob SquarePants. I have a recording of the set (which did also feature plenty of songs not specially aimed at toddlers) and it remains one of my favorite things to listen to.

I sold Girl Scout cookies as a little girl. Chocolate Chippers (recipe from the Better Homes and Gardens New Cook Book, ca. 1960) were my favorite thing to bake with my mom. It was 107 degrees here yesterday, so baking cookies isn't high on my list of things to do at the moment, but in autumn and winter they're the best. As a child I owned Betty Crocker's Cookbook for Boys & Girls, and read it over and over with something close to obsession. I also loved my mother's series of Southern Living cookbooks, and the desserts volume had some great recipes. (More specifically, great-looking photos, because that's what I really cared about.) I was particularly fixated on the orange-lime cookies, which were absolutely enchanting to my five-year-old self. They were half green and half orange! How much cooler could they be? The recipe involved grating oranges and limes for their zest, and my mom was definitely not into it, but I bugged her enough that she eventually relented. I brought them to kindergarten as a treat (birthday or scheduled snack, I no longer recall), and I remember the other kids being as enamored as I was.

Tomorrow I head to a minor league baseball stadium in Illinois. Hopefully, it will not be hot enough to bake cookies on the ground.

B is for Beer

B is for beer, and for "bad at blogging." This idea clearly hasn't inspired me to update as much as I'd hoped, but at least it's there for backup. (B is for Beer is also, it seems, a novel by Tom Robbins. Authors really like this title conceit.)

So ... beer. I am not much of a fan. Like any good Wisconsinite, I enjoy beer cheese soup (in small doses) and appreciate a good beer-boiled bratwurst. When it comes to cans or bottles of the stuff, however, I'd just as soon pass. I can choke it down if incredibly thirsty - the lighter and fruitier the better - but for me it's like soda: I simply can't understand why people choose to drink it if there are other options. Such as water. (Yes, I said "like soda." Clearly, I am the anomaly here.)

I do have positive associations with beer, for the most part. Beer reminds me of summer, of parties, of baseball games. Does anybody else remember when part of downtown Milwaukee was constantly enveloped in the aroma of beer from the factories? You couldn't drive through on the highway without being overwhelmed by the smell of malted hops and barley.

Basically, any warm-weather outdoor activity doesn't seem complete without coolers of beer. We had some last weekend in Colorado, hanging out at the awesome (in every sense) Red Rocks park. Cold beverages of all kinds were vital, because the temperature hovered around 100 degrees both days. We were outdoors for more than twenty-four of those hours altogether. Our reward was two days in the company of excellent people, great music from Wilco, Dr. Dog, and the Punch Brothers, and jaw-dropping views like this.

Photo by Double_Nickel

I wish I were fonder of beer, because buying beer is so much fun. I'm not talking about six-packs of Schlitz, but the dizzying array of specialty microbrews available at a decent liquor store. The limited editions, the seasonal varieties, the stuff you can only buy regionally. I try to imagine that instead of beer, it's endless varieties of artisanal iced tea. And that insufferable tea nerds brew their own batches of tea and spend hours talking about it. That is something I could definitely get behind.