Tag / books

by booksoverlookedblog

Dec. Book Recs: The Runners-Up

First off: sorry for only one post in November. I was sick for a couple weeks, and then had family visiting for Thanksgiving. But don’t worry, I’ve still got plenty to say about banned books! But first…

I read a lot of books this year. Not including my Did Not Finishes and picture books, I’ve read 56 books this year. That’s a lot, even for me. The vast majority were books I read for these monthly recommendation lists. I really enjoyed working on them, but each list took a lot of time and effort. That’s why I didn’t have any lists for July or August – I was simply too busy. For 2024, I’m going to do mini-recommendation lists, with only one or two books a month. 

Even though I read a lot, not every book I read made it onto the book recommendation lists. I limited myself to only 5 fiction books and 5 nonfiction books for each list. There were some great books that I really enjoyed that just didn’t make the cut. Even so, I felt like they were still worthy of sharing. So here it is: the final recommendation list of 2023: Books that Didn’t Make the Cut, but Are Still Good.

Nonfiction

Planting Stories: The Life of Librarian and Storyteller Pura Belpré / Sembrando historias: Pura Belpré: bibliotecaria y narradora de cuentos by Anika Aldamuy Denise. Illustrated by Paola Escobar

If there’s such a thing as a legendary librarian, it would be Pura Belpré. Originally from Puerto Rico, Belpré came to New York City for her sister’s wedding, and ended up staying for most of her life. She became the first Puerto Rican to be hired by the New York Public Library. There, she discovered her talent and passion for storytelling, though the library shelves lacked the stories she loved growing up in Puerto Rico. Throughout her life, Belpré wrote many children’s books based on Puerto Rican folklore, becoming one of the first Puerto Ricans to publish works in English in the U.S. Her work helped open up the library to the Latinx residents of New York City, and her stories continue to celebrate the culture she loved. Planting Stories is a picture book biography of Belpré’s life, with beautiful illustrations on each page. 

Why it didn’t make the cut: I really wanted to include something about Pura Belpré for Hispanic Heritage Month. Unfortunately, the only biography I found aimed towards adults (The Stories I Read to the Children by Laura Sánchez-González) isn’t easy to find unless you’re prepared to buy it. I found picture book biographies, but I didn’t want to showcase more than one picture book. I’d already decided on A Land of Books by Duncan Tonatiuh. His work is just so cool. I encourage everyone to learn about Pura Belpré, or at least read some Pura Belpré award winners! 

Signs of Survival: A Memoir of the Holocaust by Renee G. Hartman with Joshua M. Green

Two Jewish sisters – one hearing, one Deaf – recount their struggle to survive during World War II. During the Nazi occupation of what was Czechoslovakia, Renee was the only hearing person in her family. She had to be her family’s ears, listening for the sound of Nazi boots coming to take her family away. Renee and her younger sister, Herta, were eventually separated from their parents and shipped to Bergen-Belsen concentration camp. Using sign language to communicate, Renee and Herta had to rely on each other to survive. Presented as an oral history, both sisters recount their lives before and after the Holocaust in a tragic story of sisterhood and survival. 

Why it didn’t make the cut: I had this book as a potential pick for Disability Pride. After reading it, I realized that it didn’t fit the theme that well. It was more Renee’s story, rather than Herta’s. Regardless, their story is still powerful and important. 

And the Spirit Moved Them: The Lost Radical History of America’s First Feminists by Helen LaKelly Hunt

When did the feminist movement begin in the United States? With Susan B. Anthony and the Seneca Falls Convention in 1848? With Gloria Steinem in the 1960s? Hunt argues that the first feminist movement in the U.S. began with women like Lucretia Mott, Maria Weston Chapman, and Grace and Sarah Doughlass in the 1830s. These women railed against the patriarchal structures that treated them as unequal partners in the abolitionist movement. They bucked tradition and began their own interracial abolitionist movement, which included the Anti-Slavery Convention of American Women in 1837. Most of these women were moved to action by their Christian faith and felt “armed by God” as they denounced pro-slavery religious figures. Including photos and documents, this book is accessible to many readers who are interested in women’s history. 

Why it didn’t make the cut: It’s religious. The women being moved by their Christian faith wasn’t just a side-note, it’s a major point Hunt makes throughout the book. Towards the end, she calls for more faith-based feminism among women (of any faith, not just Christianity). There is nothing wrong with being religious, especially if your faith guides you to help others. I didn’t like how religion-focused it was, but it’s a book that many others would enjoy and even feel inspired by. 

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot

In 1951, Henrietta Lacks’s cells were taken from her without her consent or knowledge. These cells continued to grow and divide long after Henrietta’s death. Her “immortal” cell line has contributed to scientific and medical discoveries for decades, from a polio vaccines to studying COVID-19, and even being sent to space. Yet Henrietta’s family never learned about the HeLa cell line until 1975. While her cells have helped so many people, her family lived in poverty and, ironically, could not afford health care. Rebecca Skloot was fascinated by Henrietta Lacks and her cells, and worked with Henrietta’s daughter, Deborah, to tell the story of Henrietta, HeLa cells, and the Lacks family today. This book is impossible to put down, and examines race, class, and ethics in medicine and science.

Why it didn’t make the cut: Even if you haven’t read this book, you’ve at least heard of it. And it is absolutely worth the hype. Though I did put some award-winners and best sellers on the lists, I wanted to highlight less well known books that are still praise-worthy and meaningful. But if you haven’t read this one yet, stop reading this and go read it. Go read it now. 

Fiction

The Marrow Thieves by Cherie Dimaline 

The planet has been ravaged by climate change, which has resulted in most of the world’s population losing the ability to dream. The Indigenous people of North America can still dream, and are hunted for their bone marrow.  After French loses his parents and his brother is captured and taken to the “schools” – a parallel to the Canadian residential boarding school system – he joins a group of other Indigenous people – old and young alike – who have fled the cities to stay safe. Led by Miigwans, they travel north, living off the land and learning each other’s histories while trying to avoid becoming victims of a genocide. 

Why it didn’t make the cut: It’s a dark story. Really dark. Rape and murder are commonplace in this new world. The ending is ultimately hopeful, but it’s a long, bleak trek to reach that conclusion. The horrors the characters in this book face parallel real world atrocities committed against Indigenous Americans, most saliently with references to residential schools. It’s an important story, but a hard book to read. 

The City Beautiful by Aden Polydoros

While the rest of Chicago is marveling at the 1893 World’s Fair, Altar Rosen is working hard to earn money to bring his mother and sisters to the United States from Romania. After his best friend, Yakov, is murdered at the Fair, Altar is possessed by Yakov’s dybbuk. Unless Altar can find Yakov’s killer and bring him to justice, Yakov’s dybbuk will permanently take over Altar’s body. But there’s no justice to be found for poor Jewish immigrants, even when their bodies start piling up. Altar has no choice but to work with his old “friend” Frankie. Frankie helped Altar survive when he first arrived in America, but he has dark secrets of his own. Together, they need to track down a dangerous serial killer targeting Jewish boys all the while Altar navigates his grief and comes to understand his feelings for Frankie. A queer historical thriller, steeped in Jewish mythology. Includes content warning, glossary, and author’s note.

Why it didn’t make the cut: I really liked this book, and originally planned on using it for Pride Month. But when it comes to Pride, there’s a lot to cover, and I wanted to get as much diversity as I could when it came to the LGBTQIA+ spectrum. But I loved The Darkness Outside Us even more. It destroyed me emotionally was one of my favorite books that I read all year, and I really wanted to showcase it. The City Beautiful was still a great read, and I’m excited to share it here. 

Loving vs. Virginia: A Documentary Novel of the Landmark Civil Rights Case by Patricia Hruby Powell

Based on the true story of Richard Loving and Mildred (Jeter) Loving, this is the story of two people whose love changed U.S. history for the better. Milly, who was Black, and Richard, who was White, lived in the small town of Central Point, Virginia, surrounded by family. While Black and White folks mixed freely in Central Point, the rest of the state still had strict segregation laws, including laws against interracial marriage and “miscengenation.” Milly and Richard were married in Washington D.C. in 1958. Upon returning home, they were both arrested for “cohabitating as man and wife” and faced a year of jail time unless they left Virginia. They moved to Washington D.C., but were virtually exiled from the home they loved, unable to see their families or cross state lines together. After one of their children was hit by a car (he survived, but was injured), Milly and Richard were determined to return home. Thus began the fight of their lives for their right to be married. A novel in verse, the Lovings’ story is told from both Richard and Milly’s perspective, with illustrations throughout that enhance the reading experience. The dual perspectives during their wedding is breath-taking (especially if you listen to it on audio while reading the book, like I did). Facts about Jim Crow and anti-miscegenation laws begin each chapter. 

Why it didn’t make the cut: I loved this book, and I could’ve used it for a few different themes. But every time I’d planned to use it, I discovered another book that I wanted to highlight, and Loving vs. Virginia got pushed to the backburner. This book is one of the big reasons I wanted to share “runners-up” for December! 

Dragonfly Eyes by Cao Wenxuan. Translated by Helen Wang. 

Dragonfly Eyes is a historical fiction novel that tells the story of Ah Mei and her French grandmother, Océane. Océane married into the wealthy Shanghainese Du Meixi family in the 1920s and would eventually move to Shanghai and raise her family there. Océane adores her youngest grandchild (and only granddaughter) Ah Mei. Their close bond carries both of them through the turbulent times: Japan’s invasion of China in the 1930s, famine in the 1950s, and finally the Chinese Cultural Revolution in the 1960s and 70s. An omniscient narrator describes Ah Mei and Océane’s lives with tender details amidst the historical backdrop. Ah Mei and Océane’s loving relationship is the heart of this novel, softening the harsh blows that buffet the family.

Why it didn’t make the cut: I didn’t like it. Omniscient narrators and a thin plot made it hard for me to get into this novel. The book was lovely in its own way, it but wasn’t for me.

by booksoverlookedblog

Banned Books Week 2: The Reasons

If you want to know what the current moral panic facing America is, check the ALA’s top 10 banned books list. When you think of banned books, you might be thinking of the classics: Brave New World, Huckleberry Finn, To Kill an Mockingbird. And, sure, there are classic books that have been challenged and banned since they were first published. Just ask Toni Morrison. But in recent years, the most common reasons for challenging or banning books are for containing LBGTQIA+ content or critiques of systemic racism. Labeling a book as “sexually explicit” is another common reason, though that’s pretty much always been the case when it comes to book bans.

To show this, I’ve made a couple charts tracking the reasons why books were challenged or banned from 2012 – 2022. If you want a more detailed view, this is the spreadsheet I used to compile everything from the ALA’s lists. 

A little bit about the data here: most books have multiple reasons given for being challenged/banned. For example, Gender Queer by Maia Kobabe was challenged for LGBTQIA+ content and for being sexually explicit, so I marked it as both. “Language” can mean a few different things, depending on the book and who’s complaining about it. It might be curse words, but some books that deal with racial issues were challenged for having “divisive language.” Since one of those was a picture book, I don’t think that divisive language in that particular book was f-bombs. I’ve included racial slurs and derogatory terms in the category “language” as well. Similar to “language,” profanity can mean different things to different people, but it’s generally accepted to mean swearing. I’ve combined “racism” and “racial stereotypes” into one category, since you typically don’t get one without the other. I’ve also combined drugs and alcohol into the same category, though books that are challenged for drug use may not include alcohol use, and vice versa. 

All in all, the reasons given to ban or challenge books in the past 10 years looks a little something like this: 

From 2012 to 2022, the three most common were “other”, “sexually explicit”, and “LGBTQIA+ content.” I’ll talk about “other” in a later post. Right now, I want to go over “sexually explicit.” 

As I’ll talk about in another post, “sexually explicit” can mean a lot of things. It can mean graphic sex scenes, steamy scenes, sexual assault, nudity (both sexual and nonsexual), and anything in between. What I find sexually explicit may not be what you find sexually explicit. 

Books with LGBTQIA+ content also tend to be called “sexually explicit” more frequently than books without it, even if the content is pretty mild. I can’t think of a book where this is more obvious than Drama by Raina Telgemeir. In one scene, two boys kiss. It’s a first kiss, innocent and sweet. If it had been a boy and a girl kissing, no one would bat an eye. 

Are you ready for this? Ready for this borderline pornographic scene?

No one tell the concerned parents how Shakespeare plays were originally cast.

Which brings me to my next point: challenging and banning books with LGBTQIA+ content. You’ve probably heard about this, since it’s becoming scarily common. These aren’t just parents showing up at school board meetings or quietly filling out a “request for reconsideration” form at a library. It’s a school board member filing a criminal complaint against Flagler Schools for having an “obscene” book in the school library.

 Or public libraries losing funding for having LGBTQIA+ materials.

 Or multiple bomb threats made against public libraries for carrying LGBTQIA+ materials.

This scares the shit out of me. To be totally honest, I think it’s a matter of time before a library worker is seriously injured or even killed due to this anti-LGBTQIA+ moral panic. But at least there’s an injunction against the Arkansas law that would prosecute librarians and booksellers for having materials that are “harmful” to minors in their collections, right?

Challenges to books with LGBTQIA+ content are obvious homophobia and transphobia. Censoring these materials attempts to erase already marginalized people and groups who have been unseen for centuries. The same can be said for books that confront systemic racism in America. In both cases, censorship acts to hide away authentic stories and information. Taken to the extreme, it could mean that only material that’s ultimately harmful to marginalized groups could remain on the shelves, further perpetuating homophobia, transphobia, and racism. These books combat this ugliness by exposing it. And if it makes you uncomfortable, good. Homophobia should be uncomfortable. Racism should be uncomfortable. 

And if it makes you feel seen and validated, or comforted to know that there is someone out there who feels like you do, sees the world like you do, or just makes you feel like you’re not alone…even better. 

Accessibility is about power, gatekeeping is founded on the protection of power, and to all of that I say: fuck that, because information that can change lives should never be hoarded.

Prisca Dorcas Mojica Rodriguez, For Brown Girls with Sharp Edges and Tender Hearts

The rash of censorship spreading across school and public libraries, and even private businesses, is appalling on every level. 

You cannot say you are protecting children and at the same time take away the things that validate who they are.

You cannot claim to uphold family values while calling in bomb threats.

You cannot say you value freedom and free speech and actively call for censorship.

by booksoverlookedblog

Changing Directions

I began this blog a couple years ago when I was still living with my parents, in the house I had grown up in. While I’ve never been the neatest person, one of the things preventing me from ever having a truly clean room was the veritable library of books spread throughout the house. But I loved all of them so much, even the ones that I hadn’t read in years, or the ones I was likely never going to read. Choosing which ones to part with would be an impossible decision. This is, until I made a friend who had been going through all of her old childhood books, reading them again and deciding what to keep at what to get rid of. She talked about things she’d never noticed in her books before, some of which were my favorites when I was younger. But when she mentioned racism in Madelin L’Engle’s works, I was surprised. That was something I’d never picked up on when I was younger, and I wanted to see if it was something I’d missed as a kid.

I thought blogging about my re-reads would be fun to do, and I could see and share the ways that I had grown. I also thought that this project – and it would be a long project – could help me decide which books were worth keeping, and which should find new homes. I set out some ground rules for myself, and got to work.

Then things changed. I pared down, moved to another state. I pared down again, moved to a different state. I took some books from my large collection at home, still in my parents’ house, along with most of my favorites (the Harry Potter and Fables series were too heavy to bring with me).

But I’m winding down to the end of that pile. I’ve got one manga left, which will follow Tithe, and a couple more novels, though not many.

So, as Guns N’ Rose’s once asked, “where do we go now?”

I want to continue working on this blog, but I’m not sure in what capacity. Traditional book reviews is an obvious route I could take, rather than in-depth, chapter-by-chapter reviews. I’m considering doing more YA fiction (like An Ember in the Ashes and Last Call at the Nightshade Lounge), Newbery Medal winners, and #1000BlackGirlBooks.

I’m dedicated to finishing my long-form review of Tithe and the next manga in question, but I would need to get the jump on another project now to keep a steady stream of updates. So if there’s something that you would like to see from this blog or an idea that sounds intriguing, let me know!

by booksoverlookedblog

Eragon 40-41: Capture at Gil’ead

And so we keep moving forward with Eragon, and the next chapter, “Capture at Gil’ead”. Hm, I wonder what’s going to happen here? As chapters titles go, I guess it’s not bad. Certainly, no worse than “Doom of Innocence”. But it doesn’t leave much room for suspense. However, the title does come from the only memorable part of this chapter, so there’s that.

Most of this chapter seems like filler. Eragon and Murtagh are traveling to Gil’ead, where Brom had instructed Eragon to go before he died. I found it really boring and uneventful. This is partly because I’ve been reading Storm of Swords, where characters can’t step out their door for five minutes before something terrible happens, never mind a long journey. Where’s the bandits and gore? But more than that, this chapter covers weeks worth of travel, long enough for Eragon’s broken ribs to heal, and we see only three conversations between Eragon and Murtagh, and even less of Saphira. All the events are glossed over, and it’s really disappointing.

For instance, Eragon and Murtagh must ride near Urû’baen*, the capital where Galby reigns. Eragon and Saphira have just escaped from some of Galby’s most fearsome allies, and everyone loyal to the king will be on the look-out for them. They’ll have to use all their wits and skills to keep Saphira hidden and remain free, or else a fate most foul awaits them.

Or not. Instead, we get this.

Their travels north forced them toward the capital, Urû’baen. It was a heavily populated area, which made it difficult to escape notice. Soldiers patrolled the roads and guarded the bridges. It took them several tense, irritable days to skirt the capital.

That’s it. Seriously, that’s all we get. What might have been exciting and tense is boiled down to one insipid paragraph.

There’s another thing I’m trying to figure out as well. When I first read this book, I really liked Murtagh. He was easily my favorite character. Now, I’m honestly trying to remember why. I think it’s because he’s a badass with a dark and mysterious past, and I always did like angsty boys.** But Murtagh hasn’t exhibited much personality other than those few traits. Even when though we’ve known him for a few chapters now, we still don’t know much more about him as a person than we did when we first met him. In this chapter he demonstrates that he’s smarter than Eragon, but so are most characters in this book.

After pages of being told (not shown) that Eragon and Murtagh are friends, they arrive near Gil’ead and Murtagh arranges a meeting with one of Brom’s allies. But then–gasp!–Eragon loses consciousness. Again. And gets captured. Again.

How many times has he fainted now? I stopped counting.

Eragon wakes in a cell, drugged and dopey. He’s fairly sedated, to the point where he can’t remember enough of the Ancient Language to use magic to escape. He does see the elf from his dreams, Arya, in the prison, and her description is…well…

Her long midnight-black hair obscured her face, despite a leather strip bound around her head to hold the tresses back. [. . .] Her sculpted face was as perfect as a painting. Her round chin, high cheekbones, and long eyelashes gave her an exotic look. The only mar in her beauty was a scrape along her jaw; nevertheless, she was the fairest woman he had ever seen.

It made me roll my eyes, but then I remembered that the elves in this universe are a race of Mary Sues. Brom did imply this before, and the point really gets hammered home in the sequel, Eldest. After remembering that, I don’t mind it as much. At least it makes sense with the rest of the book.

No, it’s Eragon’s reaction that’s truly worthy of an eye roll.

Eragon’s blood burned as he looked at her. Something awoke in him–something he had never felt before. It was an obsession, except stronger, almost a fevered madness.

producers

All other obvious jokes aside, I do have another nit to pick about this chapter. In the first book in the series, Eragon’s greatest enemy is Durza, the Shade. Remember Durza, how scary he was?

Oh, no, you don’t. Or, at least, I didn’t. Until now, Durza had only been in the prologue. There was passing mention of Shades and how dangerous they are, but I don’t think we’re ever told what exactly a Shade is. Far more time is spent learning about the Ra’zac or dragons, which is fair. But when it becomes clear that Eragon wouldn’t be able to defeat the Ra’zac, his new enemy becomes Durza. But since we know next to nothing about Shades or Durza, his sudden appearance here doesn’t do much to scare the reader.

That, and because Durza’s description sounds like Ronald McDonald. White face with red lips and hair? Forget powerful magician, he’s a hamburger-slinging clown.

Durza has a conversation with Eragon, saying that he’s visiting the cell just to gloat at capturing a Dragon Rider. You know, an action that’s never led to any villain’s downfall, ever. In truth, he comes to find out exactly what Eragon’s “true name” is, which is a wasted effort as Eragon doesn’t even know what it really is.

If you ask me, the true purpose of their conversation is to remind the reader that Eragon has enemies besides the Ra’zac, but Durza doesn’t feel particularly threatening, especially since it’s been more than 40 chapters since we last heard from the Shade, or cared about what he was doing.

*Do you really need both the apostrophe and the û?! One is more than enough. Now you’re just fucking with us, Paolini.
**Adulting Protip: Leave the dark, brooding male lead in fiction where he belongs. Do not date him in real life. 
by booksoverlookedblog

Adults Reading Children’s Books

I visited a friend a few weeks ago, and told her that the only Tamora Pierce books I’d read were in the Circle universe. I’d tried reading the Immortals series when I started high school, but older students on the bus, including my sister’s best friend, started making fun of me for it. I put the book down and never picked it up again.

My friend, Liz, was surprised that I’d never read Tamora Pierce’s The Song of the Lioness series. She told me I’d love it and practically shoved the first book, Alanna, in my hands. I had my doubts. I knew the basic story: girl wants to be  knight, so she disguises herself as a boy to become one. It didn’t seem that original to me. I wasn’t expecting to be blown away by the prose, either; this was a book for kids, after all. Even the first chapter seemed very rushed. On the second page, with the reader having no prior knowledge of these characters, Alanna and her twin brother decide to switch places. Boom! Suddenly the plot’s rolling. A little too fast for my taste.

So, no, I did not come into this book with high expectations.

I ended up loving it: the main character, her friends, and all the adventures she went on. Maybe my favorite part was when Alanna beat the crap out of the bully that’d been beating her for months. For someone who was also bullied at Alanna’s age, I think it was cathartic for me.

A few years ago, I might not have even considered reading Alanna or similar books. I was familiar with young adult fiction, and so much of it seemed the same: girl in dystopian world starts a revolution and falls in love along the way. I wasn’t very interested in children’s literature, either. I thought that it wouldn’t be able to challenge more or entertain me. Fortunately, my attitude changed with a little help of a friend, and Lemony Snicket.

I’d tried to read the Series of Unfortunate Events books when they were “age-appropriate” for me, but I really didn’t enjoy them. I managed to get through one book, and gave up. A few years ago, one of my friends bought the first two books. Remembering how much I enjoyed the Series of Unfortunate Events movie, I picked up the first book as well.

At the time I was working as an educator at a small museum, which hosted overnight programs for scouting groups. I like to read before I go to bed, but I was also tired and had to be up early the next morning to cook breakfast for the scouts. I couldn’t read anything that was too long, or anything that would make me stay up late thinking. So I started reading The Bad Beginning. I quickly found that the writing was clever and humorous in ways that I couldn’t appreciate when I was younger. Even if the characters are simple and straight-forward, the stories twist and turn and are endlessly entertaining. The Unfortunate Events series also grapples with moral ambiguity and doesn’t give clear-cut answers to all its mysteries. These are things that would have frustrated me endlessly as a child. As an adult, however, the give what seems to be a simple story a deeper meaning and complexity, full of questions whose answers could be mulled over for hours.

This blog is as much about growing up as it is about books. When I read those old books that I grew up with, time and time again, I can see the ways that I have changed. Moreover, I derive different meanings from the same stories as I grew up. This is probably the most obvious in The Magician’s Nephew reviews. Certainly, I could draw parallels between Diggory’s life and my own when I was ten, but for the most part it was a wonderful adventure I could get lost in. As an adult, I had a much better understand of the story as a whole, especially as a Christian allegory. I was also a lot more intrigued by the characters of Uncle Andrew and Jadis. As a child, I’d written them off as villains, and were therefore to be disliked, no matter what.

The experiences I had reading these books are worth revisiting, and I’m happy that I have a space to share them. But thanks to Lemony Snicket and Tamora Pierce, I’ve learned that I can still draw deep meaning and enjoyment from books that are supposedly not for adults.

I got several new books for Christmas this year that I’m still working my way through, including In the Hand of the Goddess by Tamora Pierce, and All The Wrong Questions by Lemony Snicket. Right now I’m reading through the dark and complicated world A Storm of Swords, but I can’t wait to finish this book, crack open my new Tamora Pierce, and see how Alanna is doing.

 

by booksoverlookedblog

Prologue: What is This Nonsense?

A couple months ago, I embarked on a new adventure: cleaning my bedroom. This is a feat that has been undertaken many times, but is rarely ever completed. Now, the project has started again with new gusto, but has hit an unexpected road block.

The books.

It has become clear to me that I am a book hoarder. As I struggle to find my bedroom floor, I keep finding more and more books, some dating as far back as elementary school. The biggest problem, the real detriment to completing this feat of cleanliness, is figuring out what to do with the multitude of books.

From the full bookcase…

The overflowing shelves…

The cluttered cupboards…

And my library is beginning to make its way into the rest of the house…

Oh, and in case you’ve ever wondered, here’s what 83 pounds of books look like:

It’s become clear to me: something must be done.

If you’re a reader like me, I think you’ll agree that getting ride of books isn’t a task that can be undertaken lightly. From the books you’ve read once and never touched again, the ones you seem to re-read every year, or the ones you keep around purely for sentimental value, it’s not easy to decide which should stay and which should go. That’s where this blog come in.

I’ll be reading through this nonsense – indeed, re-reading my childhood and adolescence – to help determine the fate of all the books that I loved so much growing up. A few times a week, I’ll be reviewing a chapter or two here, to help determine what should stay and what should go.

So fasten your seatbelts kids, it’s gonna be a verbose ride.