I know, I know -- I stink at this.

I realize I haven't touched this blog in four months. It's not because I haven't been reading. I did fall into one of those book-less months at the beginning of summer, but I pushed through and have been reading steadily since. Let me try and remember what has come through my hands ...

I started Tara Road by Maeve Binchy, one of my favorite authors of books-to-bring-to-the-beach. I got about 25 pages in before I realized I had read it before. Twice. The funny thing is that I don't recall liking it either time.

Then I picked up The Beautiful and Damned by F. Scott Fitzgerald. It left me feeling gloomy and lonely and depressed and I loved every page.

Then I got on a memoir kick. Adam hates memoirs.

First I attempted Dry: A Memoir by Augusten Burroughs but found the language too obscene and the topics too painful for me to continue.

I went through a whirlwind Ruth Reichl feast. I read Garlic and Sapphires, her memoir about being the New York Times restaurant critic, a few years ago. Inspired by my dear friend Anika to pick up Reichl's first memoir, Tender at The Bone, I made sure it was our book club pick for the month of September. That led me to her second memoir, Comfort Me with Apples and then, finally, to Not Becoming My Mother. In the end my favorites were her last two, Garlic and Not Becoming. While I found myself disappointed with many of the choices she made in her life, her voice and her culinary adventures kept me coming back for more. The recipes she attached at the end of every chapter in her first three books helped, too.

When I started to raise chickens, Anika's sister, Sarah, directed me to the 1945 classic, The Egg and I. The author, Betty Macdonald, is probably best known for her children's series, Miss Piggle-Wiggle. I went on to read her other memoirs, chronicling varied periods of her life -- like when she had tuberculosis (The Plague and I), her childhood (Anybody Can Do Anything), and her life on Vashon Island, in the Puget Sound (Onions in the Stew). She is a clever, witty writer who managed to tackle some pretty serious subjects (the depression, WWII, tb) in a way that had me laughing aloud.

I just picked up Agatha Christie's autobiography, creatively titled Agatha Christie: An Autobiography (I wonder if she'd call it a memoir today). I have high hopes. I'll let you know how it goes.

Have you read ... ?

Since I've been slow to finish books lately (still working on Leckie's memoir, as well as Private Life by Jane Smiley), I thought I'd occasionally glance at my bookshelf and mention a good read. So...

Have you read Tender is the Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald? I think it's the heat and humidity we're experiencing in NY right now that brought my eyes to this one. He captures heat so well [who can forget the (literally) steamy apartment scene in The Great Gatsby?]. Like most of his books -- at least, the ones I've read -- this isn't exactly upbeat, but still I liked the characters, though sometimes I wanted to slap them. The story is engaging, so beautifully written, and is subtly autobiographical. You should pick it up if you haven't read it yet.

A Perfect Way to Spend Flag Day

It could have only been better if it had been Veteran's Day. Or November 10, the Marine Corps Birthday. Or -- better still -- Or V-J Day (August 15). Flag Day will have to serve as my best day to finish With the Old Breed by E. B. Sledge. Finishing this book left me feeling a mix of melancholy and gratitude. Thankful for all of those millions of men and women who have died and continue to die in battle to preserve our nation. Sad that I don't think about them enough. Guilty that I complain so much. When they are old enough, I feel like this is a must read for my children. I'm thinking High School would be best. I'm anxious to now get started on Helmet for My Pillow.

Back Log

I started this blog with every intention of being as diligent in writing as I am in tracking my food. But, alas! Alack! It hasn't happened. Tonight, though, is the night I right this wrong.

So, without further adieu, over the last month I read...

Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell

I honestly can't say enough good things about this book. No, I have not read The Tipping Point (same author) or Blink. Adam put this book down after a few chapters, claiming it was making him depressed. I could see why, but, after a few more chapters I found it hopeful. And, in an indirect way, it explained things about my parents and their parents. Things they probably never realized. In a word, fascinating.

The Red Thread and The Knitting Circle by Ann Hood

I found the first very frustrating. Her characters were not very likable and I didn't feel drawn in. This is why I put it down after 100 pages. The Knitting Circle was better, but again I didn't love the characters, though they were well-written. There was too much drama -- unrealistic drama -- in every characters life, so I had a hard time feeling connected. I finished it, but felt like maybe it had been a waste of time. Sorry, Ms. Hood.

I re-read parts of The Help by Katherine Stockett and felt as pulled in by the story and the characters as I did when I first read it last year. Really a spectacular first book. I read it for the first time in a day. One of the many, many times Adam declared himself a book widower.

I am currently in the half-way through With the Old Breed by E.B. Sledge. Gripping. Gripping, I say! It's making me wonder why we never learned anything about the war (WWII) in the Pacific in school. I picked this up, along with Helmet for My Pillow by Robert Leckie, after starting to watch the HBO mini-series The Pacific with my brother-in-law in PA. I absolutely loved Band of Brothers, draining and painful as it was, and fell immediately for the new series. Unfortunately, I was only in PA long enough to see the first 3 episodes. I was distraught enough to consider for a brief moment getting TV. When I voiced my dismay to my brother, he suggested reading the two memoirs it is based on. Military man that he is, he's read a lot of war histories and soldier memoirs and proclaimed these two of the best.

It's about time.

I've always struggled with how to keep track of what I've read. Not just titles and authors, but also basic plot, whether or not I enjoyed it, what I took away from it, etc. Friends and family often ask me about what I'm reading and it usually takes me a long and awkward "Uhh ...." moment before I can come with a title. And an explanation about why I liked the book? Even more hemming and hawing. I've tried plain and fancy readers' journals, but those didn't seem to do it for me. But now that I've become so disciplined with keeping track of my food intake, I'm certain I can do the same with my literary adventures.

I go through reading spurts. One month I'll be reading three or four books at once, others will pass with nary a page turned. Knowing that, I don't expect to update this blog daily or even weekly. It will likely turn into a twice or thrice a month effort. But at least at the end of the year, I'll be able to look back and see what I've my precious time reading.