I had a spate of holds arrive at once, and they got better as I read:) First up, and least favorite, was The Men, by Sandra Newman. The premise of a planet without men was intriguing, but the plot was non-existent. Characters appeared to be integral to the story, then disappeared. I sped through the last hundred pages just to see if she could pull something out of it, but unfortunately no.
Next was The Premonitions Bureau, by Sam Knight. This would have been a great long form piece in The New Yorker or The Atlantic. There just wasn't enough material for the book, so he padded it with some tangents that I felt weakened the book.
I always look forward to a book by Ruth Ware, and The It Girl didn't disappoint. It also didn't wow me like The Death of Mrs. Westaway did. I knew who the murderer was at least halfway through the book:/ But Ware does suspense so well, I was still quite anxious reading the last fifty or so pages.
I put The Kingdom of Sand by Andrew Holleran on hold based on one sentence quoted in the review in The New York Times:
"Using a two-lane highway presumes that everyone coming toward you wants to live as much as you do..."
A book that epitomizes what fiction does, because reading it gave me insight I could never have into the lives of older single gay men living semi-closeted in central Florida. Another beautiful quote:
"...when people express tenderness and kindness to someone it's often because of someone else. Love and kindness have a lineage their recipients know nothing about."
I've been waiting for Isaac Fitzgerald's memoir, Dirtbag, Massachusetts since I stumbled upon his newsletter. Finally one that lived up to the hype! A few of my favorite lines:
"Even before I learned how to read I learned to respect books as a second religion."
And,
"My mother gave me my first Saint Jude medal [patron saint of impossible causes] when I was twelve, which could have felt like calling it a little early."
Finally, I read a few essays from Rogues, by Patrick Radden Keefe. The one about Anthony Bourdain was so bittersweet.
Right now I'm reading Jess Walter's short story collection, The Angel of Rome, and am loving it.
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