There’s more to life than books…

By the end of October, I should have been up to 95 books, and I was at 94. The end is in sight, friends. I think next year I’m not going to try to read 115 books. But damn, I feel pretty smug knowing that I read almost as much in a month as the average American reads in a year.

The October reading list:

86. That “10 hours of catcalling” video came during a month where I was already predisposed toward some man-hating because of Class Action. I saw the movie (North Country) a long time ago and I only remember that a) there was a bar scene where they played “Lay, Lady, Lay” and b) I was angry about how the Minnesotan accents came off. Again. (If it had taken place anywhere else I wouldn’t have missed the point.) The book made me very squeamish and disgusted with humanity. Again.

87. I finally hitched up with the zeitgeist of 2009 and read The Hunger Games. None of my students were even impressed, because they’ve moved like three dystopia trilogies past.

88. I find Elizabeth Wurtzel insufferable, so I’m always kind of disappointed by not hating her books. Prozac Nation.

89. Your Pretty Face Is Going to Hell is about Bowie, Iggy, and Lou, so you can probably surmise what I thought of it.

90. I LOVE GARY SHTEYNGART. My Shteyngart-sighting cylinders are all on go whenever I go to NYC. (It’s never paid off.) Publisher’s Weekly named Little Failure one of the 10 best nonfiction books of 2014. Good job, PW.

91. After you’ve read The Road to Wellville, you’re never going to look at a box of Corn Flakes like you did before.

92. When I bought Tenth of December the clerk got really excited and told me how much she’d loved it. She was right. I adore short stories, and should read them more. “Victory Lap,” the first story, instantly catapulted its way onto my list of all-time favorite short stories.

93. I’ve read all of Mary Karr’s memoirs now, with Cherry. I just did it crazy out of order. I think I would have liked Mary Karr if we had been in high school together.

94. I felt kind of like I was reading a doctoral dissertation when I read The Holy or the Broken. How many pages can one fill on the topic of a single song? I did not listen to “Hallelujah” a single time while I read this, and now I alternate between wanting to listen to every single version mentioned in the book, and never wanting to hear it again.

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