HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Edith Wharton

Today is the birthday of Edith Wharton, whose novel, The Age of Innocence, knocked my socks off in 2006. BTW, in 1921 The Age of Innocence was the first novel written by a woman ever to win a Pulitzer Prize. Read more here.

Thanks for the tip, Caryl!

Image reproduced from Shari Benstock, No Gifts from Chance: A Biography of Edith Wharton. (taken from Gonzaga's website)

A Year in Review: 2007

2007 was my best reading year. I managed to finish 50 books, from cover to cover, which is ten more than last year. Granted, I had to carefully strategize my reading list, jettisoning books I wouldn’t be able to finish by the end of the year and replacing them with shorter fiction. But I made it!

My 2007 books-read list is fairly eclectic, and some statistics follow to corroborate.

Fiction: 35
Nonfiction: 15
Books written by women: 24
Books written by men: 26
Mysteries: 9
Culinary essays: 5
Travel essays: 5
Books by Beverly Cleary: 6
Books by Joan Didion: 2
First novels: 7
Memoirs: 3
Books published in 2007: 16

Reading books aloud to my husband (the 700-page HP7) and children (all of Beverly Cleary’s Henry Huggins books) was a pleasure I wouldn’t exchange for any other. I doubt that I will finish annotating the entire list of books I read this past year. An unbearable work load at the office, as well as deadlines, zaps my best writing energy. Besides, I've got a new pile of books to read!

I would be remiss, however, if I didn’t mention, in some way, my favorites. Herewith are annotations, including one longer entry that represents an abandoned blog post. Better late than never, I always say.

Favorite fiction, in no particular order:

The Uncommon Reader (Alan Bennett)
The premise of this delightfully witty novel involves Queen Elizabeth, who, minding her own business while walking her corgis one day, stumbles upon a bookmobile on the grounds of Buckingham Palace. She chats up the librarian, checks out a book, and becomes a reader and a thinker. Her life is changed in unimaginable ways. It’s beautiful and subversive in all the best ways.

Play It As It Lays (Joan Didion)
Stunning. Sparse. Really, that’s all I want to say. Well, and that I will be reading more Didion in the coming year.

Yiddish Policemen’s Union (Michael Chabon)
It took me a long time to read this masterful novel, and I loved every single word of it. Sure, it was not without a few problems, but I like these things: intricate storytelling and complex characters. I loved Binna, especially, who had to have been modeled on Chabon’s own beautiful and hugely talented wife, Ayelet. Highly imaginative and very atmospheric, this novel depicts the last days of a Jewish homeland in Sitka, Alaska, and was inspired by '40s noir detective fiction. My friend Caryl and I saw Chabon interviewed live as part of MPR’s Talking Volumes series, and he was remarkable in so many ways. Let’s just say that I heard his voice as I read most of the novel, which wasn’t a bad thing at all.

The Road (Cormac McCarthy)
Over a year ago, The Road received a front-page review in the NYTBR, which left such an impression on me that I became obsessed with reading this book. But I avoided it for months, afraid to face its dark scenes of desparate human behavior in the face of tragedy and hopelessness. Eventually I spotted the unabridged audio at the library, perfect for my commute—i.e., in broad daylight—and it knocked my socks off. Devastating and depressing, gross and bleak are all words I would use to describe this father-and-son novel set in the aftermath of some catastrophic event. But also brilliant—McCarthy is an amazing storyteller.

Fieldwork (Mischa Berlinksi)
This confident first novel of missionaries in Thailand pleasantly surprised me. The plot involves an American journalist in Thailand—Mischa Berlinski—who investigates the murder of an American anthropologist jailed for murder. Fieldwork was nominated, deservingly, for the National Book Award this year.

A Brief History of the Dead (Kevin Brockmeier)
This post-apocalyptic tale features intertwined storylines, one of which is a midworld between this one and the afterlife. The other storyline features the only survivor of a pandemic—the last person on Earth. I appreciated the compelling plot and interesting characters, and I look forward to reading any future books Brockmeier writes. This was one of those books that you wish you could read again for the first time. Highly recommended to anyone who likes Jonathan Lethem. Read while on vacation in New Orleans.

Henry Huggins (Beverly Cleary)
As a kid, I loved Beverly Cleary’s Ramona Quimby books. Son Simon is about the right age to read them so we picked up this title from the library. He loved Henry, and, as you’ll see, we devoured all the Henry Huggins books. Even though these books were written fifty years ago, Henry's adventures—bringing home a stray dog, saving money to buy a bike, getting a paper route, building a clubhouse—really resonated with my eight-year-old. Henry has buddies and a rival (Scooter McCarthy) and a pest (Ramona Quimby). His parents are supportive and help him to reach his goals. He's a good kid. Simon's looking forward to re-reading these books.

Favorite nonfiction, in no particular order:

Feeding a Yen (Calvin Trillin)
In this collection of food essays, Calvin Trillin is in rare form as he writes about local specialties from Cuzco, Peru, to Brooklyn, NY. Humorist Calvin Trillin keeps a list of foods that he refers to as his Register of Frustration and Deprivation and describes as such "despite being my favorite dishes in one part of the world or another, rarely seem to be served outside their territory of origin. Some examples of these victuals include pimientos de Padron, barbecue, the fish taco, and Cajun boudin. Each essay is guaranteed to have you licking your chops, reading to travel and discover the unique food stuffs of far-flung places. He offers one of the most touching dedications I've ever read:

For more than thirty-five years, my companion at the table was my wife, Alice. Although I did once describe Alice as having "a weird predilection for limiting our family to three meals a day," her knowledge and enjoyment of food had a lot to do with the pleasure I took in writing about eating. Partway through this book's adventures, which took place over several years, her name no longer appears. She died in September 2001. I know she would have expected this dedication to be shared with our first grandchild, Isabelle Alice Trillin-Lee, who, as it happens, has already shown signs of being a good eater.

The Places in Between (Rory Stewart)
Again, a front-page review in the NYTBR made me do it—track the book down when it was momentarily scarce and carry it around for awhile before reading it. Stewart, a Scottish foreign service officer, walks across Afghanistan, as part of a trek across Central Asia, just moments after the Taliban falls. Naturally, his requests for permission to embark upon this walk are met with great suspicion by the new local government, but eventually are granted. The author copiously notes the minutiae of Afghan geography, geology, politics, history, and culture, as well as the myriad stories he hears—all of which fuel his anthropological curiosity. He also questions Western government professionals with their fancy educations (of which he knows many having been one) and their ability to know what Afghanistan wants or needs by way of government. Many of the communities he visits are so incredibly remote, you have to wonder what their part in any democratic political process would be and if they thought it would make a difference to their tribal identity and life. I look forward to reading Stewart's Prince of the Marshes.

Momentum Is Your Friend (Joe Kurmaskie)
The boys gave this book to John for Father's Day, and I read it aloud to him. The further adventures of the Metal Cowboy, who takes his young boys—who are in a pleasant coincidence the same age as my young boys—on a unbeatable adventure. This is the ultimate father-son story—Joe pulls his sons across the country—from Portland, OR, to Washington, DC—on his bicycle, using a crazy contraption of a tagalong and a Burley cart. Why? Kurmaskie seems to be a little crazy, but he also remembers how his father, a workaholic, had always meant to take his kids on a big vacation and never did before dying of a massive heart attack. Kurmaskie vows not to wait until it's too late to have a memorable vacation with his boys. They climb mountains, cross the Continental Divide, eat countless watermelons, and see multitude of really great things.

Heat (Bill Buford)
Bill Buford, the founding editor of Granta, as well as the former literary editor of The New Yorker and author of Among the Thugs, wonders what it would be like to work in a professional kitchen and gets an opportunity to find out firsthand when he works the line at Mario Batali’s Babbo. Fast-paced, funny, always mouth-watering, Buford’s account is interspersed with the story of Batali’s apprenticeship in Italy learning grandmother cooking and of his rise to celebrity chef status.

When his stint in Batali’s kitchen is over, Buford travels to Italy to do his own apprenticeship, first with Gianni and Betta in Porretta, Italy, learning to make pasta, as Mario had done. When he finished the tortellini tutorial, he convinced his wife, a high-powered NY magazine editor, to quit her job and move to Italy so he could apprentice to a butcher. Not just any butcher either, but Dario Cecchini, the same butcher Mario’s father, Armendino, the owner of Seattle’s Salumi, apprenticed with.

One of my favorite passages details making a pasta and exemplifies the message of the book: food is important. And, knowing where your food comes from, not just the source, but tradition, is important.

My advice: ignore the Babbo cookbook and begin by roasting small pinches of garlic and chili flakes and medium pinches of the onion and pancetta in a hot pan with olive oil. Hot oil accelerates the cooking process, and the moment everything gets soft you pour it away (holding back the contents with your tongs) and add a slap of butter and a splash of while wine, which stops the cooking. This is Stage One—and you are left with the familiar messy buttery mush—but already you’ve added two things you’d never see in Italy: butter (seafood with butter—or any other dairy ingredient—verges on culinary blasphemy) and pancetta, because, according to Mario, pork and shellfish are an eternal combination found in many other places: in Portugal, in amêijoas na cataplanas (clams and ham); or in Spain, in a paella (chorizo and scallops); or in the United States, in the Italian-American clams casino, even though none of those places happens to be in Italy. (“Italians,” Mario says, “won’t fuck with their fish. There are restaurants that won’t use lemon because they think it’s excessive.”)
In Stage Two, you drop the pasta in boiling water and take your messy buttery pan and fill it with a big handful of clams and put it on the highest possible flame. The objective is to cook them fast—they’ll start opening after three or four minutes, when you give the pan a swirl, mixing the shellfish juice with the buttery porky white wine emulsion. At six minutes and thirty seconds, you use your tongs to pull your noodles out and drop them into your pan—all that starch pasta water slopping in with them is still a good thing; give the pan another swirl; flip it; swirl it again to ensure that the pasta is covered by the sauce. If it looks dry, add another splash of pasta water; if too wet, pour some out. You then let the thing cook away for another half minute or so, swirling, swirling, until the sauce streaks across the bottom of the pan, splash with olive oil and sprinkle it with parsley: dinner.

Cross-X (Joe Miller)
In high school, participating on the debate team saved my life, preserving my sanity in a small town. It was a delight to read this book about a Kansas City Urban Debate League team, written by a journalist who later became a coach/mentor to the team. Miller writes about debate for the layperson, but more important, he writes about racism, in a city that has had, for decades, serious desegregation issues. His portrait of this particular team, thriving in a perceived white, elitist activity is really compelling. The kids and their coach—all are amazing.

Happy Holidays to all

It’s Merry Chaos here in Princeton. In a pleasant role reversal, the children are quietly entertaining themselves with newfound Christmas booty, while the adults are indulging in much deserved champagne, caviar, and foie gras de canard (from the Gascony Mothership, no less) while the turkey cooks.

No matter where you are and what you believe, I hope that your day is filled with peace and glad tidings!

mission accomplished

I’m pleased to report that I have just set a PR for number of books read in a year. I just finished reading Calvin Trillin’s Feeding a Yen, a thoroughly awesome book, bringing the tally to fifty books read this year. Even when I was a publisher’s rep, getting paid to read, I only managed to read, cover to cover, around thirty-five books annually. Oh, I read a lot then, especially for the job, but I tended to read only the first fifty pages of a given book, thus ruining my average.

This is an exciting goal to reach!

first lines meme

I like a trip down memory lane as much as the next person. And, since I've been uninspired to write much of anything—outside of work, that is—this seems like a fine time to hop on this first line meme. Here is the first line from the first post of the month for each month this past year.

January: Way back in April, as I was looking through the Coming Soon literature "aisle" at Powells.com, I made a note that Julia Glass had written a new book, The Whole World Over.

February: Before Water for Elephants was published by Algonquin Chapel Hill last May, a number of friends expressed interest in it.
March:Granta has just announced their second-ever list of best American writers under 35.

April: I’m a sucker for first novels and for novels set in exotic locations.

May: This is my first post for the month of May, which was a somewhat cruel month for reading and writing—just not enough time.

June: zilch

July: The highly anticipated, final installment of Harry Potter is very close to its official on-sale date.
August: The Man Booker Prize long list has been announced.

September: Last October, I posted a list of 39 books I would endeavor to read beginning on my 39th birthday.

October: Admit it.

November: I’m the kind of geek who gets super excited when book group rolls around every six weeks or so.

December: I like a trip down memory lane as much as the next person.

notable books of 2007

When the New York Times announces their annual notable books list, my list of books TBR increases exponentially. Publishers place almost as much stock in this accolade as they do some awards. Being included on the notable books list can make a title more marketable to bookstores and readers when it’s released in paperback.

Of those books chosen for 2007, I have read only two: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (J.K. Rowling) and The Yiddish Policemen’s Union (Michael Chabon). What Is the What (Dave Eggers) is my book group’s January selection, and I look forward to reading it soon.

The following will go on my list, ensuring an immediate detour from the 40 for 40 plan:

Bridge of Sighs (Richard Russo) In his first novel since Empire Falls, Russo writes of a small town in New York riven by class differences and racial hatred.

The Indian Clerk (David Leavitt) Leavitt explores the intricate relationship between the Cambridge mathematician G.H. Hardy and a poor, self-taught genius from Madras, stranded in England during World War I.

Let the Northern Lights Erase Your Name (Vendela Vida) A young woman searches for the truth about her parentage amid the snow and ice of Lapland in this bleakly comic yet sad tale of a child’s futile struggle to be loved.

The Maytrees (Annie Dillard) A married couple find their way back to each other under unusual circumstances.

The Ministry of Special Cases (Nathan Englander) A Jewish family is caught up in Argentina’s “Dirty War.”

The Savage Detectives (Roberto Bolano) A craftily autobiographical novel about a band of literary guerrillas.

Then We Came to the End (Joshua Ferris) Layoff notices fly in Ferris’s acidly funny first novel, set in a white-collar office in the wake of the dot-com debacle.

Tree of Smoke (Denis Johnson) The author of Jesus’ Son offers a soulful novel about the travails of a large cast of characters during the Vietnam War.

Down the Nile: Alone in a Fisherman’s Skiff (Rosemary Mahoney) Mahoney juxtaposes her solo rowing journey with encounters with the Egyptians she met.

Edith Wharton (Hermione Lee) The meticulous biography shows Wharton’s significance as a designer, decorator, gardener, and traveler, as well as a writer.

Legacy of Ashes: The History of the CIA (Tim Weiner) A comprehensive chronicle of the American intelligence agency, from the days of the Iron Curtain to Iraq, by a reporter for the New York Times.

Schulz and Peanuts: A Biography (David Michaelis) Actual “Peanuts” cartoons movingly illustrate this portrait of the strip’s creator, presented here as a profoundly lonely and unhappy man.

Service Included: Four-Star Secrets of an Eavesdropping Waiter (Phoebe Damrosch) A memoir about waiting tables at the acclaimed Manhattan restaurant Per Se.

two short books

I have recently devoured two short books—one a novella and the other a travel essay.



A few weeks ago, my friend Krista kindly sent me a book care package. One of the books was The Uncommon Reader by Alan Bennett, which I had a week or so before it arrived, put on my reading list. Kismet. The premise of the book involves Queen Elizabeth, who was minding her own business walking her corgis one day, stumbles upon a bookmobile on the grounds of Buckingham Palace. She chats up the librarian, checks out a book, and becomes a reader.

I did a lot of head nodding over bits like this:

To begin with, it's true, she read with trepidation and some unease. The sheer endlessness of books outfaced her and she had no idea how to go on; there was no system to her reading, with one book leading to another, and often she had two or three on the go at the same time.

There are great passages about the queen's distressed staff that can't go about their business because of her new habit, such as when she begins to ask of commoners in receiving lines and heads of state at dinners: What are you reading?

It's a deliciously subversive and humorous book that I look forward to reading again.


In early October, John and I visited Napa Valley. Just outside of Calistoga, we took a hike up Mount St. Helena, following the Monument Trail. When we hit the monument, roughly at this spot pictured above, we learned that Robert Louis Stevenson, yes, the author of Treasure Island, lived in a cabin. He and "his bride" (according to the inscription on the monument, a book on a pedestal that was carved out of red granite) spent their honeymoon here, and during that time, RLS wrote vignettes that would become the travel essay, Silverado Squatters.

It's not unusual for me to read books set in my travel destination—before, during and after my trip. But, it has been a long time since I've read something so site specific about such a random place (actually, it's been twenty years since I read Dracula after visiting Whitby Abbey). From the first sentence, I was transported back to that mountain and to Napa Valley, where wine was already being made. RLS writes about the state of wine:

The inconquerable worm invades the sunny terraces of France, and Bordeaux is no more…Chateau Neuf is dead, and I have never tasted it… A nice point in human history falls to be decided by Californian and Australian wines.

I wonder if Stevenson would be amused to learn that French vineyards recovered from phylloxera by grafting disease-resistant California vines, which allowed French wines to remain dominant until the 1976 when California wines beat Bordeauxs. Or that Australian wines didn't gain respect in this country until the 1990s.

As John and I stood on the site of the abandoned silver miner's cabin, we marveled at the remote location and wondered where the couple got water, as surely the cabin had no plumbing. It certainly was gratifying to find the answer in Silverado Squatters—RLS drilled a hole in the rock to capture run-off.

Here is a serene view of Napa from the trail leading to the monument:

Hard to find in book form, UC-Berkeley graciously offers the entire text online.

weekend double-header

This past weekend, I had the supreme pleasure of visiting a bookstore and the library so as to gorge myself on books. Honestly, I don’t know if or when I will read all these books, but I have good intentions to read quickly.

On Saturday, John and I took the little boys to Uncle Edgar/Uncle Hugo, a joint mystery and science fiction bookstore on Chicago in Minneapolis. This place has stood the test of time with nary a facelift or tidying up. It’s sort of stunning the number of books this store packs in. In addition to the shelves that line the walls and a host of freestanding bookcases in the middle of the mystery side, piles of books form labyrinth throughout the space. The amazing thing is that buyer Jeff Hatfield knows where every single book in the store is and when they were published and by which publisher, as well as which books are available used. He and owner Don Blyly are easily among the most knowledgeable and passionate booksellers I have ever met.

I picked up the first, self-titled Modesty Blaise mystery by Peter O’Donnell and Bagman, Jay MacLarty’s follow up to The Courier, which I plan to read aloud to handsome husband on our eight-hour drive later this week. John selected a few medieval mysteries, and we found a junior mystery with a strong adventure component for eight-year-old, a budding reader.

On Sunday, John and I took the little boys to the library, where I had a book on hold (Michael Chabon’s Gentlemen of the Road, his second book this year—how does he do it?). Even though I’m reading three books at the moment, a trip to the library isn’t complete without checking out a tall pile. It’s good to have choices. I found Suffer the Little Children by Donna Leon (on the Conversation with Books list for January), Free Food for Millionaires by Min Jin Lee (a debut novel that received glowing reviews this summer), Not a Girl Detective by Susan Kandel (a fun mystery with an amateur sleuth that riffs on Nancy Drew), and Italian Two Easy by Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers, a cookbook by the owners of London River Café.

Where to start?

National Book Awards

The winners of the National Book Award were announced earlier this week. Of all the literary awards (Nobel, Booker, Whitbread, Giller Prize, IMPAC, Pulitzer, National Book Critics Circle), the NBA is my favorite, as the nominees most closely match the sort of books I like to read—solidly literary but not esoteric or punishingly difficult or pretentious.
Each year, I try to read at least one of the nominees from the fiction list, and this year I had already read the Mischa Berlinski, as well as the Sherman Alexie. I’m thrilled about Sherman Alexie winning in the Young Readers category. He really deserves the accolade. Denis Johnson’s book interests me, too.

But, mostly I'm wild about Joan Didion's lifetime achievement award. This year I was blown away by a novel she wrote in 1970—Play It As It Lays—and her more recent memoir about the death of her husband, The Year of Magical Thinking. She's brilliant, and I look forward to reading more.

Book Group: The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian

I’m the kind of geek who gets super excited when book group rolls around every six weeks or so. My book group is comprised of fun, smart people, each of whom shares a love of reading, books, and food. It really doesn’t get any better than that, does it?

We all met working in the same industry—publishing. we constitute former and current publisher’s reps, book buyers, and booksellers. Talk always turns to which books—aside from that evening’s title—we’re reading. Out of necessity or preference, most of us have multiple books going at once.

Usually, we each take turns hosting in our homes, but occasionally, for variety, we like to meet at restaurants. Food is a pretty important element of our gatherings. Everyone makes and serves great food. One of our members, Amy, resigned her position at the biggest U.S. publisher to launch an upscale catering company. Almost instantly successful and overbooked, she spoils us rotten with her wonderful food, even when it’s not her turn to host the group.

Last night the group met at Grand Café* to discuss Sherman Alexie’s The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian. Many of my friends have been pressing Alexie’s books on me for years, but this is the first one I have read. I loved it, and I’m kicking myself (with apologies to Caryl) for missing him at his recent Talking Volumes event.

This young adult novel chronicles the teenage journey of Arnold Spirit—known to his family and friends as Junior—as he leaves the Spokane Indian Reservation to attend school 22 miles away, in a white, farming community. Arnold, hydrocephalic at birth, is "poorer than dirt poor." His life is beset by tragedies—many of them the result of alcoholism on the reservation—and the travails of being a teenager, attempting to navigate the world. Arnold's world happens to straddle two cultures.

A teacher, who sees great potential in Arnold, encourages him to attend school off the reservation. When he asks his parents’ permission to attend Rearden High, they say yes without missing a beat. While Arnold's parents support his decision, everyone else views him as a traitor (he's called an "apple," red on the outside, white on the inside). At Rearden, he befriends bookish Gordy, holds hands and attends a dance with Penelope, and plays on the basketball team.

Lest that sound too ideal, the story is peppered with the death and drinking that are a part of Arnold's reservation life. Arnold's self-imposed therapy is drawing cartoons (comic drawing supplied by the talented Ellen Forney), which is where he works out his anger, frustration, and sadness, but also where he can celebrate occasional triumphs.

I was really blown away by the power of Sherman Alexie's masterful writing. The San Francisco Chronicle agrees: "Alexie doesn't break character to educate uninitiated readers about the realities of American Indian life." So does the National Book foundation as this book has been nominated for an award in the young people's literature category.

This is a really moving story—at turns laugh-out-loud funny and heartbreaking—and, ultimately, uplifting because Arnold takes a chance and doesn't look back.

*A few words about the restaurant. Located in south Minneapolis, Grand Café resides in a beautiful, quiet space with whitewashed walls and hardwood floors, yet nothing coming out of the kitchen is understated. Wafer-thin cracker bread virtually melts in your mouth and serves as a pleasant alternative to the bread basket. I’ve eaten here a number of times (its previous carnation—Bakery on Grand—was a favorite for a while) and have always felt that the food had yet to reach its potential. Well, I think it’s getting very close. I’ll be thinking about the artichoke-romesco spread, as well as the butterscotch custard and the chocolate flourless cake with blackberries and crème anglaise, for some time to come.

book meme—my first

This easy, short meme looked like just the thing to reinvigorate posting on this blog!

Take the nearest book next to you and answer the following questions:

Title and Author:
The Silverado Squatters by Robert Louis Stevenson

Is the book dedicated to anyone? If so, whom?
To Virgil Williams and Dora Norton Williams (these sketches are affectionately dedicated by their friend, the author)

What is the first sentence?
“The scene of this little book is on a high mountain.”

Turn to page 47. Please share the first sentence of the first full paragraph.
“There was no stove, of course, and no hearth in our lodging, so we betook ourselves to the blacksmith’s forge across the platform.”

Join in if you want! (via Verbatim)

40 for 40

Because I cannot resist making lists, here’s another for a new Reading Year.

1. What Is the What (Dave Eggers)
earlier this year, reviewers called this book important; my friend Suzanne highly recommended it
2. Cryptonomicon (Neal Stephenson)
Neal Stephenson is a genius, and it's time to read a really long book
3. A Wrinkle in Time (Madeleine L’Engle)
L’Engle has been on my mind since her recent death
4. Cliffs of Fall (Shirley Hazzard)
found a remainder of this story collection, which looks more approachable than The Great Fire
5. Pillars of the Earth (Ken Follett)
sequel, which I’d like to read, was just released
6. Special Topics in Calamity Physics (Marisha Pessl)
friend Caryl recommended it, and I've been impressed by strong reviews
7. Suite Francaise (Irene Nemirovsky)
a 2007 Conversation with Books selection, friend Caryl recommended it
8. Suffer the Little Children (Donna Leon)
a 2008 Conversation with Books selection
9. Summer (Edith Wharton)
Another 2008 Conversation with Books selection
10. The Sun Also Rises (Ernest Hemingway)
Spain, bull-fighting, 20th anniversary of when I first read Hemingway
11. Taxonomy of Barnacles (Galt Niederhofer)
Great review in the New York Times last year, shelf-sitter
12. Appointment in Samarra (John O’Hara)
moody and atmospheric, 1950s manners and morals
13. On Beauty (Zadie Smith)
strong reviews, shelf-sitter
14. New York Trilogy (Paul Auster)
trying to satisfy an Auster craving with these classics
15. The Wicked Position (Dawn Powell)
shelf-sitter; purchased almost ten years ago at Prairie Lights in Iowa City
16. Our Man in Havana (Graham Greene)
classic espionage
17. Revolutionary Road (Richard Yates)
class 1950s ennui
18. Murder in the Marais (Cara Black)
gritty mystery in wonderful Parisian setting
19. Architecture of Happiness (Alain de Botton)
architecture; popular writing to inspire my profession life
20. Vile Bodies (Evelyn Waugh)
a favorite author; about the Mitfords
21. Bloodletting and Miraculous Cures (Vincent Lam)
linked stories about medical students and doctors , read a strong review recently
22. Animal, Vegetable, Mineral (Barbara Kingsolver)
beyond eating locally and seasonally, this is Kingsolver’s account of growing her own food
23. Poisonwood Bible (Barbara Kingsolver)
I don’t know anyone who hasn't loved this
24. Where I Came From (Joan Didion)
Didion nonfiction, California setting
25. The Last Thing He Wanted (Joan Didion)
Didion was my discovery author for ’07; picked this up at City Lights recently
26. Man Who Walked Through Time (Colin Fletcher)
classic walking book
27. In Patagonia (Bruce Chatwin)
Argentina, classic travel essay
28. Omnivore’s Dilemma (Michael Pollan)
for "family book group"—my dad and sister will read too
29. Fried Eggs with Chopsticks (Polly Evans)
enjoyed It’s Not About the Tapas and would like to read more Polly Evans
30. Four Seasons in Five Senses (David Mas Masumoto)
my sis gave this to me last year for my birthday, food and nature
31. Every Eve (Isobel English)
a lost classic published by Persephone, a gift from a friend
32. The Silverado Squatters (Robert Louis Stevenson)
1880s Napa lifestyle, inspired by recent trip to Northern California
33. Big House (George Howe Colt)
sustaining my interest in architecture
34. Judgment of Paris (George Taber)
recent trip to Napa and continuing wine education inspire me
35. Kingdom by the Sea (Paul Theroux)
Theroux is a favorite and we’re going to England, summer ‘08
36. When French Women Cook (Madeleine Kammen)
culinary essay
37. Collected Stories of Carol Shields
short stories and an opportunity to read Shields
38. Adventures in the Rocky Mountains (Isabella Bird)
delightfully packaged travel essay in a new Penguin series
39. A Romantic Education (Patricia Hampl)
shelf-sitter, which I last tried to read in 1999; George Janecky loved this
40. A Time of Gift (Patrick Leigh Fermor)
another classic walking book

The list reflects some of my current interests—reading books set in Napa Valley and books about walking, architecture, and travel. Here is a short list of books that didn't make the main list but that might make guest appearances:

The Hungry Tide (Amitav Ghosh), read enticing flap copy recently
Stet (Diana Athill), a recent purchase
A Year in the World (Frances Mayes) a 39 for 39 leftover
Poet of the Appetites (Joan Reardon), a 39 for 39 leftover
something by MFK Fisher, a 39 for 39 leftover
The Thief Lord (Cornelia Funke), a 39 for 39 leftover
Harriet the Spy (Louise Fitzhugh), a 39 for 39 leftover
Gone-Away Lake (Elizabeth Enright), missed this one when I was a kid
The All-of-a-Kind Family (Sydney Taylor), loved this series, would be reading now with daughters
Jane Austen Book Club (Karen Joy Fowler), a 39 for 39 leftover, want to read before I see the movie
Feeding a Yen (Calvin Trillin), a 39 for 39 leftover
White Ghost Girls (Alice Greenway), a 39 for 39 leftover
Liquor (Poppy Z. Brite), NOLA
New Orleans Noir, anthology, NOLA
House of Blues (Julie Smith), NOLA mystery
Best American Travel Writing 2007, anthology
Death by Pad Thai, anthology compiled and edited by Douglas Bauer
Granta's Best of Young American Novelists 2, anthology with some of my favorite writers
Bacchus and Me (Jay McInerney), wine writing

booker prize winner!

Outsider beats favorites to scoop prize for tale of dysfunctional family life set in Ireland—Anne Enright's The Gathering is the 2007 Booker Prize winner

fall=literary-awards season

The fall is a great time to be a reader, for so many reasons. Not only do you have all the heaviest-hitting, highest-quality books being released in time for the holidays, but you also have the announcement of major literary awards. This week alone has yielded a bounty.

The National Book Award finalists were announced. Hands down, the NBA is my favorite literary award. It represents the best American literature. As with many awards, it is not without its faults, but year after year, the nominees are the sort of books I want to read. And unlike the Booker Prize (present list excepted), you've likely heard of at least a few NBA finalists.

From this year's fiction group, I have read Mischa Berlinksi's Fieldwork. My book group is about to read the Sherman Alexie, which is on the children's list. In between, I have designs on the Joshua Ferris and Christopher Hitchens's God is Not Great.

Also this week, the Nobel Prize for Literature was bestowed upon Doris Lessing, an author I have had good intentions to read for over twenty years.

The National Book Award will be announced on November 14, at which time Michael Cunningham will also present the foundation's lifetime achievement award to Joan Didion, who so deserves it! This is a great time to discover Didion if you've never read her. If you have read her bestselling memoir, The Year of Magical Thinking, do yourself a favor and dip into her earlier fiction (such as Play It Where It Lays) or reportage (such as the essays collected in Slouching Towards Bethlehem).

The Booker Prize winner will be announced next week, on October 16. Stay tuned.

chelsea cain blogging at powells.com

Chelsea Cain is this week's guest blogger at Powells.com.

Go check out her posts—she's very funny, and you're in for a treat!

september round-up

Admit it. You thought the reason I haven't posted for eons was becuase I was so busy reading books that couldn't possibly have any time to blog. How I wish that were true.

The first month of school has proved to be brutal. And, no, I'm not in school. My awesome sons—ages 5 and 7—are both school-agers. The school year has historically been my favorite time of year. Perhaps I've mentioned before that I was one of those geeky kids who preferred school to either weekends or summer, both of which made me feel at loose ends.

Even though I finished my formal education nearly twenty years ago, I still prefer the school year. I like our routine, which begins early with school start times and ends with the boys' bedtime and is interspersed with little pockets of time when I might dip into a book. Au contraire.

I’m more likely these days to fall asleep reading, to work through my lunch break—which is a great reading opportunity—or to be interrupted by my (sweet but demanding) little family. I harbor deep fantasies of reading unimpeded for an hour, knocking off a chapter or more.

Even though I failed to finish a single book during the month of September, I am diligently working my way through four books:

Mommy Tracked by Whitney Gaskell
A refreshing, lighthearted novel about four friends who happen also to be mommies. Situations—bleak and humorous, alike—hit close to home.

French Fried by Nancy Fairbanks
The second book in this culinary mystery series I have read. I like the protagonist, the attention to food, and the setting, which is Lyons, where I spent ten delightful days in 1998.

Sweet Revenge by Diane Mott Davidson
I’ve read every book in this mystery series featuring caterer Goldy Bear. Again, I read the series for the highly likable protagonist, the attention to food and the setting, a fictitious mountain town in Colorado.

United States of Arugula by David Kamp
Michael Ruhlman—a god among nonfiction writers—gave this a nod on his blog. Ruhlman claims he read it on a flight. I also started the book on a flight, with small children, and managed 20 pages. It’s a sweeping history of the American food revolution, and it’s easily consumed.

On my radar
Alex and the Ironic Gentleman (a children's novel by Adrienne Kress)
Not that You Asked (a collection of off-beat essays by ever-humorous Steve Almond)
A Wrinkle in Time (a classic children's novel by Madeleine L’Engle, recently deceased)
Bridge of Sighs (a new novel by a favorite writer, Richard Russo)

drawing to a close

Last October, I posted a list of 39 books I would endeavor to read beginning on my 39th birthday. As I’m nearing my (gulp) 40th birthday, I thought I’d evaluate the project.

How did I do? I read ten books, almost a quarter of the list! As I mentioned in the post that introduced the project, I’ve never been able to follow a reading list. Also, when it comes to books, I’m easily distracted by word of mouth, reviews, and other reading opportunities that pop up when I least expect it. Which is all to say that I'm pretty pleased with a 25% "sell-through" rate.

Here are the books I finished (each one is linked, at right, to Powell's):

Memento Mori (Muriel Spark), a 2006 discovery
The Big Oyster (Mark Kurlansky), delicious micro history about Manhattan and oysters
The Keep (Jennifer Egan), fall ’06 new release from a favorite author
Heat (Bill Buford), summer ’06 hardcover purchase
Play It As It Lays (Joan Didion), shelf-sitter and 2007 discovery
Yiddish Policemen’s Union (Michael Chabon), spring ’07 Talking Volumes selection
The Whole World Over (Julia Glass), 2007 Conversation with Books selection
The Places in Between (Rory Stewart), best NYTBR review I read in ‘06
Brief History of the Dead (Kevin Brockmeier), word of mouth made me read it
Shadow of the Wind (Carlos Ruiz Zafon), another shelf-sitter

Can I cram in a few books over the next few weeks? Doubtful. I’m currently reading four books, one of which is due back to the library soon. The others I’d like to wrap up before my vacation so that I may start new books. I have yet to start the next book group selection and my book group meets next week. There is a remote possibility that I will finish Pride and Prejudice, which I’m listening to on my commute, but I don't want the story to end.

As the Reading Year draws to a close, I somewhat regret not getting to M.F.K. Fisher or Carol Shields, yet again. But, there's always another list.

Over the next week, I’ll compose my 40 at 40 list. I have already started culling the random titles I’m known to jot down on scraps of paper. I have the 2008 Conversation with Books list in hand, and I'm contemplating an Internet reading challenge or two. I'm open to recommendations, so feel free to leave them in comments.

Stay tuned!

"under the radar" books

Nancy Pearl delivers another armload of "under the radar" books.

My reading list grows exponentially.

Reading week of August 13

I've been working on the same three books for a few weeks now, which is totally wrecking havoc on my goal of finishing twenty books this summer.

~HP and the Deathly Hallows—I'm reading this aloud to John, which is a considerably slower way to read a book. It also ensures that I can get him to look up characters and terms online when we stumble upon one we can't remember.

~Angelica by Arthur Phillips—My book group will be discussing this coming Thursday, and as I'm at the half-way point, I need to motor. However, I am getting a boost from the unabridged audio during drive-time. Much to my surprise, I am enjoying this Victorian ghost story and look forward to the discussion. I'm also thinking about adding Wilkie Collins (Woman in White, Moonstone) to my reading list.

~The Places in Between by Rory Stewart—This fantastic travel essay is lunch-break reading, and I'm enjoying it so much that I don't want it to end. Stewart writes about his walk across Afghanistan, just after the Taliban has fallen in 2002. The walk is part of a larger walk the author has taken across Central Asia. I appreciate travel essays that are insightfully written by keen observers. Stewart supercedes most in the genre as he scrupulously records details about history, politics, religion, geography, topgraphy, culture, and more. My interest in reading classic walking/travel essays is piqued, and I've just added Patrick Leigh Fermor, Bruce Chatwin, and Colin Fletcher to my burgeoning TBR list.

Booker long list announced

The Man Booker Prize long list has been announced. I am familiar with exactly one of these books (the McEwan), but haven't read it, which is not all that surprising since only two of them have been released in the States.

The Booker Prize website received a face lift to coincide with this year's announcement. The prize's chair has a bit of fun writing a blog that is worth checking out. The shortlist will be announced in September, just in time for finalists to make my 40 at 40 reading list.