BOOK IT! Vol. 3

Another month in which I failed to read fiction.

Hi friends,

You’ll notice this is coming to you on the fourth day of the month rather than the first, and that’s because I have a deep aversion to anything April 1^st. I could probably trace that back to the April Fools’ Day lunch my mom packed for me in kindergarten, complete with a banana covered in peanut butter, place inside a bun, to look like a hot dog, and followed by a call home from the teacher telling my mother that her daughter is in tears and could they feed her the backup food they had at the school?

(Though, I did laugh myself to sleep Tuesday night realizing I had a banana with peanut butter as a snack that day, between Zoom calls. Mom, if you’re reading this, I think I’ve finally healed that wound.)

Austin Public Library. 35mm film on a Canon Canonet QL17.

March was filled with many concerts and shows and social engagements and, also, failed attempts at reading fiction instead of memoir (maybe next month!), so my competitive heart is sorry to inform you I only have four books to write about today. Somehow, I had thought I would emerge from March with a scroll of books to discuss, and that’s because I am a writer and not a mathematician. Anyone capable of doing simple math could tell you March is only three days longer than February. News to me and my brain that expected to read eight more books in those 72 hours. But today you get four.

Some books I recommend, and some books I do not:

“How to Write an Autobiographical Novel: Essays” by Alexander Chee

This book was recommended to me in a writing class I took last fall through The Loft Literary Center, out of Minneapolis. As I’ve been writing more essays, I have, naturally, been seeking out more books of essays, and this book is a beautiful one. Sometimes I read writing that makes me think, “Wow, I wish I could do that,” and Alexander Chee’s writing did that over and over again.

🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕 8/8 pizza slices

“Reading the Waves” Lidia Yuknavitch

Having barely just finished my annual rewatch of “The Hours” when I cracked the pages of this book open, I found myself quickly hooked when the author, on page 4, began to talk about Virginia Woolf. A book I was meant to read now, I thought, always looking for signs and greater meaning. I loved the concept of this book—exploring memory in a non-linear fashion, how the body holds and stores memory in ways that resurface and often don’t make logical sense. At times, however, it felt a little too abstract for me. I found myself captivated in the first half of the book, but that waned around the midpoint. Part of this might have to do with Yuknavitch’s writing style—she is a master of really beautiful, vivid imagery, but her writing can lean crude at times, and I find that such a shift from the latter that it’s almost jarring.

🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕 5/8 pizza slices

“Unshrunk: A Story of Psychiatric Treatment Resistance” by Laura Delano

I was originally introduced to the author’s story in Rachel Aviv’s book “Strangers to Ourselves,” which intrigued me enough that I preordered this book when a friend told me she was publishing a full-length memoir in March. In some ways, it felt like a tenuous time to be reading a book about “deprescribing” psychiatric medication, during RFK Jr.’s recent appointment as the Secretary of Health and Human Services. However, I still think it’s an important book, one that starts to question how, in our country’s shift to a more medicalized model of mental health care, we’re quick to spread misinformation about how psychiatric medication works and even quicker to prescribe it without much informed consent. I can’t really say it better than was said in The New York Times’ profile of the author:

“There has never been an incentive in industry to tell people when to stop using their product,” said Dr. Joseph F. Goldberg, the group’s president. “So it really falls to the nonindustry community to ask those questions.”

Is Delano the perfect advocate? No. She has a fair amount more privilege than most people that find themselves institutionalized. At times, I find some of her takes to be a little too rigid and dogmatic. And yet, there are no perfect advocates. There are just humans.

🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕 5/8 pizza slices

“Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly” by Anthony Bourdain

Late last year, I listened to Ina Garten’s memoir on audiobook—narrated by Ina herself—and just about died of delight hearing Ina say, nearly once a chapter, “How fabulous is that?” In that same vein, listening to Anthony Bourdain narrate his memoir felt like one long, extended episode of “Parts Unknown.” There was comfort in a voice so deeply familiar, and Bourdain’s voice is a clear one. He is concise in his word choice, cutting in his commentary, and oftentimes irreverent. Considering when this book was published, I can see the cultural significance of it. I don’t know that too many people today would be surprised to hear the grueling, sometimes demoralizing, nature of professional kitchens. In fact, I would wager that we’re somewhat in period of infatuation with the culture of kitchens and chefs. (And, it’s worth noting, that I do believe there are people in the industry that have made efforts to shift far away from the environment Bourdain described in his book 25 years ago.) There was one chapter, read in the wake of Bourdain’s suicide, that felt particularly raw—he talks about his struggle with addiction, his determination to kick it, to be one of the ones that survives, that stays alive. I think of how in the aftermath of suicide we are prone, as humans, to pour over the past in search of clues and understanding. It, at times, felt difficult to pull myself away from that urge. Still, 25 years later, I think this book is worth a read, and if you’re looking for a break from your usual podcasts during your daily commute, it’s worth hearing this in Bourdain’s voice.

🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕 6/8 pizza slices