My April, May, June, and July in reading

I have finished twenty books since I last blogged about my reading. Whoops. I shall now attempt to catch up in two, ten-book posts. I’ll keep the reviews short, for everyone’s sake.

The Saint of Bright Doors by Vajra Chandrasekera

Easily one of the best books I’ve read all year. This modern religious-political fantasy starts with a support group for former Chosen Ones and sprawls into a surreal epic where Fetter, our protagonist, comes to terms with destiny in a city full of alluring and mysterious locked doors. I was enthralled.

Moby-Dick; or The Whale by Herman Melville

Moby-Dick is one of those classics I never got around to reading in high school or college—but I’m so glad I finally did! First of all, Ishmael is such a funny narrator. I was smiling practically through the whole book. Second, the queer vibes are immaculate. Ishmael and Queequeg, sitting in a tree, etc. My only complaint is that the ending is so rushed! Did he get bored of writing it or something? We may never know.

The Five Invitations: Discovering What Death Can Teach Us About Living Fully by Frank Ostaseski

Earlier this year I started volunteering at Hildegard House—Kentucky’s only comfort care home, providing a space for hospice patients to live when they have nowhere else to go. As part of the training, we read portions of Ostaseski’s The Five Invitations, which details what he’s learned over the years as founder of the Zen Hospice Project. I decided to get the full book from the library. Parts were really insightful. Parts were really repetitive. But overall I thought it was a helpful read. We could all stand to get more comfortable with death and dying, so I recommend this as a gentle introduction.

Everywhere, Tony Danza by Wendy Oleson

Full disclosure: I am friends with Wendy. Though our friendship may make me biased, I found this surreal little memoir-in-flash to be utterly charming. It reels nostalgic like a fuzzy VHS tape. And yes, Tony Danza does make an appearance.

A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki

My friend Alex bought me this novel for my birthday, and I loved it. A writer named Ruth—a version of the author—finds the diary of a young Japanese girl washed up on the shore of the remote Canadian island where she lives. The girl, Nao, is suicidal—but she aims to tell the story of her Buddhist nun grandmother before she ends her life. Was Nao real? Could she have been a victim of the 2011 tsunami? Character-Ruth aims to find out. See also: quantum mechanics, cats, crows.

Assata: An Autobiography by Assata Shakur

I’ve had this one sitting on my shelf for a while, and I’m so glad I finally got to it. Shakur not only tells her life story—from her childhood in New York and North Carolina, to her time with the Black Panthers, to her daring escape to Cuba—but also details the abominable treatment she received from police as they tried to pin the death of a state trooper on her and convict her of bank robberies she never committed. It’s a hard book to read in terms of content, and it’s especially horrifying given that it seems so little has changed in terms of how police treat Black Americans. But Shakur is a gifted writer, so the book is equally hard to put down. It’s a must-read.

Hawk Mountain by Conner Habib (read by the author)

I have rarely encountered a thriller this nerve-wracking. I literally had to take a break in the middle because I was so stressed out. The wacky part is that the back cover tells you there’s going to be a murder, and yet when the murder actually came, I was shocked. Todd’s high school bully insinuating himself into his young son’s life. An aggressive ex-wife. A slow, tender dismemberment. Want to be freaked out? Hawk Mountain is a good choice.

No One Dies Yet by Kobby Ben Ben

It’s the avant-garde gay Ghanian postcolonial murder mystery you never knew you needed. During Ghana’s 2019 Year of Return, thousands of Black diasporans return to Accra to learn their history; with Kobby and Nana as their guides, they find a lot more than they bargained for.

Tragedy Queens: Stories Inspired by Lana Del Rey and Sylvia Plath, edited by Leza Cantoral

I enjoyed this anthology because it does exactly what it says on the cover. Violent, sexy, sad girl shit. Perfect reading for my trip to Vegas. I preferred the stories that were less literal to the poet and the singer, but that’s just me. If you’re into either of the two, you’ll probably like this collection.

The Bullet Swallower by Elizabeth Gonzalez James

It’s a Western! It’s a horror story! It’s magical realism! Why not all three? This generational saga that moves between the 1800s Mexico/Texas border and 1960s Mexico City considers how trauma and destiny are (or aren’t) bound together. It’s so different from James’ first novel Mona at Sea—but I also loved that one. She’s enormously talented, and I look forward to whatever she does next.