These are thoughts I have while reading books. Halfway through or in the beginning.
- “Me Before You” by Jojo Moyes: There’s not a single likable character in this whole book, yet somehow I’m still reading.
- “The Tradition” by Jericho Brown: Reading poetry is the only time I’m not afraid to die.
- “Wind/Pinball” by Haruki Murakami: Now THIS is a f*ckin BOOK. Is it necessary to describe every single woman’s boobs though?
I’m not doing a reading goal this year. It never works for me and takes the fun out of reading books because it always feels like I have to. Yuck!
I don’t know who else struggles with this, but with my ADHD, it’s really difficult to finish books. Most books can’t keep my attention for more than a chapter, and I end up starting dozens more than I finish.
That said, I didn’t read many books in 2020, but here were my favorites:
- Undead Girl Gang by Lily Anderson – witchy in all the right ways, although it left me with a very creepy and visceral image of mushrooms. I read this months ago and I’m still creeped out.
- The Hand on the Wall (Truly Devious, #3) by Maureen Johnson – I really loved this series and the final book tied it all together.
- How We Fight For Our Lives by Saeed Jones – I listened to the audiobook, which I highly recommend. You know when people say, “Jesus Christ, read a book!” to signal that you need to broaden your horizons? I recommend this one. It’s gay, coming of age, historical, and immensely visual. I remember this book like it was a movie.
- A Long Fatal Love Chase by Louisa May Alcott – so many red flags, such romance, and terrible drama! I never read Little Women but I bet it’s nothing like this one.
“In the age of romance and chivalry, steam seeped through open hearts now it’s a gas leak up the nose and on fire. Love is now combustible. Love is now the library. Love is now the golden gilded spine of ancient text.
July 1st 2017.”
like: “love is now the library”
dislike: “ancient text”
Here’s the new version. As you can see, I’ve added a title and altered the imagery. This poem did not undergo a heavy edit, and that’s okay. Sometimes, I write a long poem only to keep one or two lines, or images, or ideas. Other times, like in this case, I keep it mostly the same.
King Arthur was a Tragedy
In the age of romance and chivalry
steam seeped through open hearts
now it’s a gas leak.
Up the nose.
Love is now combustible.
Love is now the library.
Love is now the golden
gilded spine of mildew books
that bury in your head
songs and hatchets alike.