Most of what I read in November

Was good because it was written by diverse and BIPOC authors, or by an author that at least attempted to add clarity to the many issues we are facing today. I am trying to highlight this because while it was a fulfilling month reading wise, when it comes to writing: I myself, did not do shit. 

I fall into the trap each year thinking that I will partake in the goal of writing a book in November. It is in my opinion (probably due to my constant failure at the goal) that it can be hard for those to make the time if they are also in a stage in life where their family and work obligations are full time, it is unrealistic to expect people to be able to power through a novel. 

I mean I feel like I can’t find the time now, why do I think that I am going to get into a steady and completing habit of writing during the holiday months? I am being forced to leave the house for hours at a time once a week at this point, how can I recoup from that!?

At least I can counter my shame and self reflection on my writing goals, with my pride and intense reflection after nailing my reading goals. 

Pachinko - This Dickensian novel is an engrossing multi-generational tale that drew me in and convinced me that I could tackle some of the more denser reads that I would later pick up. I was able to learn more about how the Korean people struggled under annexation by following this fictional family centered around Sunja. 

I still haven’t watch the drama, mostly because I am struggling to stay up to date on the Real Housewives shows right now. I can accept that I am one of the sheeple who is running with the masses - about how the Golden Age of TV is done, while not putting in effort to stream anything. 

This novel is written by a journalist and it shows: from how the narrative is laid out, to the attention to details when describing the scene and living arrangements available to the characters, and from the interactions the characters have within their society. It is meant to humanize people in a time in which their plight was being ignored.

Never Whistle at Night - This is marketed as a dark fantasy anthology from Indigenous writers. I have been into this since I heard it was coming out, tried to avoid buying any new books, and then used Native American History Month in not a completely horrible way (even though it was my excuse) to buy the book. I tend to say that I am not into stories, but I guess I am not yet skilled at writing short stories myself. The people who can deserved, to be read. And this group of writers deserve to be read. 

I feel overall there is more of a horror tone to the stories, but they range in sadness and triumph and metaphor and reality. It is also, a most excellent cheat sheet for which other works by these writers I should be reading. 

“Limbs” was the most terrifying.

“Uncle Robert Rides the Lightning,” the most sad.

Better Living Through Birding: Notes from a Black Man in the Natural World  - This felt like a life changing memoir, not just for the man who lived the life and had the skill to tell it so well, but for me as a reader. I did not realize what he and others like him had to go through as an older queer black nerd, nor that the beauty he found in the natural world was one that would be so inevitable and compelling. The growth and strength in voicing what we should all know to be morally right or wrong, is what I am expecting off everyone, even the vapid pop culture stars on their successful redemptive tours (and even while knowing it is wrong to expect so much given the differences in circumstances, character, and determination). 

This is an amazing memoir that I plan to gift everyone in my life who might have a passing fancy to one of the many fancies this eloquent nature nerd has to offer. 

But also it is funny, it really is.

The Warmth of Other Suns - This book has been on my to buy list for a while, then on my to read shelf for a month or two, before I gave it the time it deserved and I needed. It took me a full two weeks to read, I was underlining and taking notes nonstop, feeling my mind and heart open. While the author focuses on three different archetypes during the Great Migration, with her research in those individual lives, and the lives of so many others, she comes off with a true Dickensian telling that should be required reading for all college students. 

This book is full of voices and does not shy away from the unspoken horror that America does not like to recall in its historical texts. This is a reminder, but also a conscious effort, to document a time period that is not to far removed from where we are now. There are still millions of Americans who can recall what they or their family had to go through when desegregation was ended in the South.

I feel pretty confident in saying that this may be my favorite book of the year. I hope that I will be able to read this several times before I kick it, I have a feeling it will be the book that rave about for years (until the next mind blowing text comes along).

Okay but back to the writing goal. I did write something, even if I did not accomplish what I set out to do. I made notes for new ideas. I trudged through one that I can’t work out of my head or out on the paper. I have a feeling that if I gave myself time, I could work through my frustration, complete it, and feel some sense of relief to be rid of it. But what do I know, except the lies I am willing to tell myself?