Category: Reading habits

December Reading Plans & Year-End Goals

Somehow the end of the year is less than four weeks away, so it’s time to start getting realistic about what I can read before 2018 begins. I wish I was the sort of person who was always reading books 4+ months before the release date and setting trends, but I’ve only read three 2018 releases so far, and it’s doubtful I’ll get to more than another handful before the end of the year. Any that I do read and can recommend I will round up briefly in a couple weeks or so.

I’m at least feeling pleased with myself for resuming and/or finishing all but two of the 14 books I had on hold as of last month; one I finally DNFed (The Unseen by Roy Jacobsen) and another I’m happy to put off until the new year (Paradise Road: Jack Kerouac’s Lost Highway and My Search for America by Jay Atkinson – since he’s recreating the journey taken for On the Road, I should look over a copy of that first). Ideally, the plan is to finish all the books I’m currently reading to clear the decks for a new year.

 

Some other vague reading plans for the month:

I might do a Classic of the Month (I’m currently reading The Awakening by Kate Chopin) … but a Doorstopper isn’t looking likely unless I pick up Hillary Clinton’s Living History. However, there are a few books of doorstopper length pictured in the piles below.

Christmas-themed books. The title-less book with the ribbon is Seven Days of Us by Francesca Hornak, a Goodreads giveaway win. I think I’ll start that plus the Amory today since I’m going to a carol service this evening. On Kindle: A Very Russian Christmas, a story anthology I read about half of last year and might finish this year.

Winter-themed books. On Kindle: currently reading When the Professor Got Stuck in the Snow by Dan Rhodes; Winter by Karl Ove Knausgaard is to be read. (The subtitle of Spufford’s book is “Ice and the English Imagination”.)

As the holidays approach, I start to daydream about what books I might indulge in during the time off. (I’m giving myself 11 whole days off of editing, though I may still have a few paid reviews to squeeze in.) The kinds of books I would like to prioritize are:

Absorbing reads. Books that promise to be thrilling (says the person who doesn’t generally read crime thrillers); books I can get lost in (often long ones). On Kindle: The Bear and the Nightingale by Katherine Arden.

Cozy reads. Animal books, especially cat books, generally fall into this category, as do funny books and children’s books. My mother and I love Braun’s cat mysteries; I read them all starting when I was about 11. I’ve never reread any, so I’d like to see how they stand up years later. Goodreads has been trying to recommend me Duncton Wood for ages, which is funny as I’ve had my eye on it anyway. My husband read the series when he was a kid and we still own some well-worn copies. Given how much I loved Watership Down and Brian Jacques’ novels as a child, I’m hoping it’s a pretty safe bet.

Books I’ve been meaning to read for ages. ’Nuff said. On Kindle: far too many.

And, as always, I’m in the position of wishing I’d gotten to many more of this year’s releases. In fact, there are at least 22 books from 2017 on my e-readers that I still intend to read:

  • A Precautionary Tale: How One Small Town Banned Pesticides, Preserved Its Food Heritage, and Inspired a Movement by Philip Ackerman-Leist
  • In the Midst of Winter by Isabel Allende
  • The Floating World by C. Morgan Babst
  • The Day that Went Missing by Richard Beard
  • The Best American Series taster volume (skim only?)
  • The Heart’s Invisible Furies by John Boyne*
  • Guesswork: A Memoir in Essays by Martha Cooley
  • The Night Brother by Rosie Garland
  • Difficult Women by Roxane Gay
  • The Twelve-Mile Straight by Eleanor Henderson
  • Eco-Dementia by Janet Kauffman [poetry]
  • The Rules Do Not Apply by Ariel Levy
  • A Stitch of Time: The Year a Brain Injury Changed My Language and Life by Lauren Marks
  • Hug Everyone You Know: A Year of Community, Courage, and Cancer by Antoinette Truglio Martin
  • Homing Instinct: Early Motherhood on a Midwestern Farm by Sarah Menkedick
  • One Station Away by Olaf Olafsson
  • Ghosts of the Tsunami: Death and Life in Japan’s Disaster Zone by Richard Lloyd Parry
  • Memory’s Last Breath: Field Notes on My Dementia by Gerda Saunders
  • See What I Have Done by Sarah Schmidt
  • What She Ate: Six Remarkable Women and the Food That Tells Their Stories by Laura Shapiro
  • Midnight at the Bright Ideas Bookstore by Matthew J. Sullivan
  • Sing, Unburied, Sing by Jesmyn Ward*

* = The two I most want to read, and thus will try hardest to get to before the end of the year. But the Boyne sure is long.

[The 2017 book I most wanted to read but never got hold of in any form was The Resurrection of Joan Ashby by Cherise Wolas.]

 

Are there any books from my stacks or lists that you want to put in a good word for?

How does December’s reading look for you?

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Library Checkout: November 2017

This month I’ve mostly been reading Sunday Times Young Writer Award nominees and novellas from my own shelves, but I sneaked in a handful of library reads via some novellas and poetry collections, plus the Iris Murdoch readalong. I’ve added in star ratings and links to reviews of those books I haven’t already featured on the blog in some way.

Most of the books I got out from the university library last month are still hanging around and will continue to provide me with some varied reading through Christmas. I’m especially keen to try Janet Frame and Oliver Sacks for the first time, and This Cold Heaven can’t fail to be an appropriate read for the winter months! Believe it or not, but I have never read The Catcher in the Rye, so I just have to decide the right time to finally experience it.

[I haven’t yet figured out a (free) dedicated link-up system, so if you do take part in Library Checkout please just leave a link to your blog in the comments.]

LIBRARY BOOKS READ

  • We Should All Be Feminists by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
  • Special Exits: A Graphic Memoir by Joyce Farmer [university library] 
  • Fathom [poetry] by Jenny Lewis 
  • Under the Net by Iris Murdoch
  • First Love by Gwendoline Riley
  • Halfway to Silence: Poems by May Sarton [university library] 
  • Endpoint and Other Poems by John Updike 

 SKIMMED ONLY

  • The Ultimate Freelancer’s Guidebook by Yuwanda Black

 

CHECKED OUT, TO BE READ

 Public library:

  • The Cat Who Stayed for Christmas by Cleveland Amory
  • Fresh Complaint: Stories by Jeffrey Eugenides
  • Our Endless Numbered Days by Claire Fuller

University library:

  • Herzog by Saul Bellow
  • This Cold Heaven: Seven Seasons in Greenland by Gretel Ehrlich
  • To the Is-land: An Autobiography by Janet Frame
  • Howl, Kaddish and Other Poems by Allen Ginsberg
  • Vita Nova [poetry] by Louise Glück
  • The Cabaret of Plants: Botany and the Imagination by Richard Mabey
  • There Is an Anger that Moves [poetry] by Kei Miller
  • And When Did You Last See Your Father? by Blake Morrison
  • The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat by Oliver Sacks
  • The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
  • The Magnificent Spinster by May Sarton
  • Spirals in Time: The Secret Life and Curious Afterlife of Seashells by Helen Scales
A selection of the university library books on my pile.

RETURNED UNFINISHED

  • So Long, See You Tomorrow by William Maxwell [university library]
  • Jaguars and Electric Eels by Alexander von Humboldt [university library]


What have you been reading from your local libraries? Does anything appeal from my stacks?

Nonfiction Novellas for November

Nonfiction novellas – that’s a thing, right? Lots of bloggers are doing Nonfiction November, but I feel like I pick up enough nonfiction naturally (at least 40% of my reading, I’d estimate) that I don’t need a special challenge related to it. I’ve read seven nonfiction works this month that aren’t much longer than 100 pages, or sometimes significantly shorter. For the most part these are nature books and memoirs. I’m finishing off a few more fiction novellas and will post a roundup of mini reviews before the end of the month, along with a list of the titles that didn’t take and some general thoughts on novellas.


 

“We Should All Be Feminists” by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

[48 pages]

This isn’t even a novella, but an essay published in pamphlet form, based on a TED talk Adichie gave as part of a conference on Africa. I appreciate and agree with everything she has to say, yet didn’t find it particularly groundbreaking. Her discussion of the various stereotypes associated with feminists and macho males is more applicable to a society like Lagos, though of course the pay gap and negative connotations placed on women managers are as relevant in the West. 

Favorite line: “At some point I was a Happy African Feminist Who Does Not Hate Men And Who Likes To Wear Lip Gloss And High Heels For Herself And Not For Men.”

 

Orison for a Curlew: In search of a bird on the edge of extinction by Horatio Clare

[101 pages]

Clare was commissioned to tell the story of the slender-billed curlew, a critically endangered marsh-dwelling bird that might be holding out in places like Siberia and Syria but is largely inaccessible to the European birding community. With little hope of finding a bird as good as extinct, he set out instead to speak to those in Greece, Romania and Bulgaria who had last seen the bird before its disappearance: conservationists, hunters, bird watchers and photographers. Clare writes well about nostalgia, hope and the difference individuals can make, but there’s no getting around the fact that this book doesn’t really do what it promises to. [Also, much as I hate to say it, this is atrociously edited. I know Little Toller is a small operation, but there are some shocking typos in here: “pilgrimmage,” “bridwatching,” “govenor,” “refinerey”; even the name of the author’s town, “Hebdon Bridge”!] 

Some favorite lines:

“A huge cloud of black storks jump up like an ambush of Hussars in their red bills and leggings, white fronts and dark uniforms.”

“The wheels click-beat the rails as we follow a river valley north past dozy dolomitic scenery in ageing lemon sunlight”

 

Herbaceous by Paul Evans

[106 pages]

This was Evans’s first book, and the first issued in the Little Toller monograph series. These are generally exceptionally produced nature books on niche subjects. Herbaceous is hard to categorize. In some ways it’s similar to Evans’s Guardian Country Diary columns: short pieces blending straightforward observations with poetic musings. However, some of them read more like short stories, and the language – appropriately for a book about flora? – can be florid. They probably work better read aloud as poems: I remember him reading “Skunk cabbage” at the New Networks for Nature conference some years back, for instance. Some lines are a little oversaturated with metaphor. But others are truly lovely. 

A few favorite lines:

“The following morning the text of journeys appear[s] on snow: trident marks of pheasant, double slots of fallow deer, dabs of rabbit.”

“Bordello black and scarlet, six-spot burnet moths swing on the nodding idiot scabious flower through a lavender-blue sky and deep, deep under roots, the fossilised fury of the mollusc’s empire heaves.”

“A bed of pansies tilts flat blue faces to the sun like a deaf and dumb funeral.”

 

 

Survival Lessons by Alice Hoffman

[83 pages]

Hoffman wrote this 15 years after her own bout with breast cancer to encourage anyone going through a crisis. Each chapter title begins with the word “Choose” – a reminder that, even when you can’t choose your circumstances, you can choose your response. For instance, “Choose Whose Advice to Take” and “Choose to Enjoy Yourself.” This has been beautifully put together with blue-tinted watercolor-effect photographs and an overall yellow and blue theme (along with deckle edge pages – a personal favorite book trait). It’s a sweet little memoir with a self-help edge, and I think most people would appreciate being given a copy. The only element that felt out of place was the five-page knitting pattern for a hat. Though very similar to Cathy Rentzenbrink’s A Manual for Heartache, this is that tiny bit better. 

Favorite lines:

“Make a list of what all you have loved in this unfair and beautiful world.”

“When I couldn’t write about characters that didn’t have cancer and worried I might never get past this single experience, my oncologist told me that cancer didn’t have to be my entire novel. It was just a chapter.”

 

Gift from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh

[130 pages]

Though written in 1955 (I read a 50th anniversary edition copy), this still resonates and deserves to be read alongside feminist nonfiction by Virginia Woolf, May Sarton and Madeleine L’Engle. Solitude is essential for women’s creativity, Lindbergh writes, and this little book, written during a beach vacation in Florida, is about striving for balance in a midlife busy with family commitments. Like Joan Anderson, Lindbergh celebrates the pull of the sea and speaks of life, and especially marriage, as a fluid thing that ebbs and flows. Divided into short, meditative chapters named after different types of shells, this is a relatable work about the search for a simple, whole, purposeful life. The afterword from 1975 and her daughter Reeve’s introduction from 2005 testify to how lasting an influence the book has had. 

Favorite lines:

“Patience, patience, patience, is what the sea teaches. Patience and faith.”

“The most exhausting thing in life, I have discovered, is being insincere.”

“I no longer pull out grey hairs or sweep down cobwebs.”

“It is fear, I think, that makes one cling nostalgically to the last moment or clutch greedily toward the next.”

 

Before I Say Goodbye by Ruth Picardie

[116 pages]

Ruth Picardie, an English freelance journalist and newspaper editor, was younger than I am now when she died of breast cancer in September 1997. The cancer had moved into her liver, lungs, bones and brain, and she only managed to write 6.5 weekly columns for Observer Life magazine, which her older sister, Justine Picardie, edited. Matt Seaton, Ruth’s widower, and Justine gathered a selection of e-mails exchanged with friends and letters sent by Observer readers and put them together with the columns to make a brief chronological record of Ruth’s final illness, ending with a 20-page epilogue by Seaton. Ruth comes across as down-to-earth and self-deprecating. All the rather Bridget Jones-ish fretting over her weight and complexion perhaps reflects that it felt easier to think about daily practicalities than about the people she was leaving behind. This is a poignant book, for sure, but feels fixed in time, not really reaching into Ruth’s earlier life or assessing her legacy. I’ve moved straight on to Justine’s bereavement memoir, If the Spirit Moves You, and hope it adds more context. 

Favorite lines:

“You ram a non-organic carrot up the arse of the next person who advises you to start drinking homeopathic frogs’ urine.”

“Worse than the God botherers, though, are the road accident rubber-neckers, who seem to find terminal illness exciting, the secular Samaritans looking for glory.”

 

The Living Mountain by Nan Shepherd

[108 pages]

This is something of a lost nature classic that has been championed by Robert Macfarlane (who contributes a 25-page introduction to this Canongate edition). Composed during the later years of World War II but only published in 1977, it’s Shepherd’s tribute to her beloved Cairngorms, a mountain region of Scotland. But it’s not a travel or nature book in the way you might usually think of those genres. It’s a subtle, meditative, even mystical look at the forces of nature, which are majestic but also menacing: “the most appalling quality of water is its strength. I love its flash and gleam, its music, its pliancy and grace, its slap against my body; but I fear its strength.” Shepherd dwells on the senses, the mountain flora and fauna, and the special quality of time and existence (what we’d today call mindfulness) achieved in a place of natural splendor and solitude: “Yet often the mountain gives itself most completely when I have no destination, when I reach nowhere in particular, but have gone out merely to be with the mountain as one visits a friend with no intention but to be with him.” 


 

Have you read any of these novellas? Which one takes your fancy?

Where My Books Come From

This challenge Laura (Reading in Bed) posted the other day is just too fun for me to pass up, plus it allows me to get a jump on my 2017 statistics. The idea is to look at the last 30 books you’ve read and note where you got hold of each one – whether from the publisher, the library, new or secondhand at a bookshop, etc. If you wish, you can also look at the whole year’s books and work out percentages. Leave a comment to let me know what you figure out about your own books’ provenance.

My bedside table (and environs): always a mix of secondhand, library and review copies.

 

Fall Down 7 Times Get Up 8: A Young Man’s Voice from the Silence of Autism, Naoki Higashida: Public library

A Girl Walks into a Book: What the Brontës Taught Me about Life, Love, and Women’s Work, Miranda K. Pennington: E-book from Edelweiss

The Great Profundo and Other Stories, Bernard MacLaverty: Secondhand copy from Book-Cycle, Exeter

Dakota: A Spiritual Geography, Kathleen Norris: Free from the Book Thing of Baltimore

Finding Myself in Britain: Our Search for Faith, Home and True Identity, Amy Boucher Pye: Christmas gift from my Amazon wish list last year

No Apparent Distress: A Doctor’s Coming-of-Age on the Front Lines of American Medicine, Rachel Pearson: PDF from publisher

At Seventy: A Journal, May Sarton: Secondhand copy from Wonder Book and Video

A Wood of One’s Own, Ruth Pavey: Free from publisher

A Sand County Almanac and Sketches Here and There, Aldo Leopold: University library

Ghost Stories of an Antiquary Vol. II, M.R. James: Free from publisher

This Little Art, Kate Briggs: Free from publisher

Reputations, Juan Gabriel Vásquez: Gift from a Goodreads friend

The Rector’s Daughter, F.M. Mayor: Secondhand copy from a charity shop

An English Guide to Birdwatching, Nicholas Royle: Gift from a Goodreads friend

The Fact of a Body: A Murder and a Memoir, Alexandria Marzano-Lesnovich: E-book from Edelweiss

Unruly Creatures: Stories, Jennifer Caloyeras: PDF from author

One Year Wiser: An Illustrated Guide to Mindfulness, Mike Medaglia: Free from publisher

A Glorious Freedom: Older Women Leading Extraordinary Lives, Lisa Congdon: PDF from publisher

Dreadful Wind and Rain: A Lyrical Fairy Tale, Diane Gilliam: Won in Twitter giveaway

As a God Might Be, Neil Griffiths: Free from publisher

Devil’s Day, Andrew Michael Hurley: E-book from NetGalley

Interlibrary Loan Sharks and Seedy Roms: Cartoons from Libraryland, Benita L. Epstein: University library

Skating at the Vertical: Stories, Jan English Leary: E-book from NetGalley

Master Georgie, Beryl Bainbridge: Free from work staff room years ago

The Immortalists, Chloe Benjamin: Free proof copy for Bookbag review

Jacob’s Room Is Full of Books, Susan Hill: Free from publisher

Slade House, David Mitchell: Public library

The Lauras, Sara Taylor: Free for Sunday Times Young Writer of the Year Award shadow panel reading

Survival Lessons, Alice Hoffman: Birthday gift from my Amazon wish list

 A Field Guide to the North American Family, Garth Risk Hallberg: Free from publisher

 

Our new (secondhand) bookcase on the landing quickly filled up with the double stacks from other shelves. Top: priority fiction; Shelf #1: fiction; Shelf #2: biography and memoir; Shelf #3: short stories and poetry.

 

And the statistics for 2017 so far:

  • Free print or e-copy from publisher: 30.11% (Wow – how lucky am I?!)
  • Downloaded from NetGalley or Edelweiss: 22.3%
  • Public library: 18.22%
  • Secondhand purchase: 15.24%
  • Free (other) = from giveaways or Book Thing of Baltimore: 6.69%
  • Gifts: 6.32%
  • University library: 1.12%

The November Outlook

Normally I’d start the month off with a few recommendations for new books, but I’ve only finished one November book I can recommend (Skating on the Vertical, short stories by Jan English Leary; not yet reviewed); I DNFed another couple and skimmed one more. So instead I’ll give a quick survey of what the month holds.

 

  • Young Writer of the Year reviews and events. I’ve read The Lauras; expect my review on Monday. I’m currently reading The Lucky Ones, Conversations with Friends, and the Steven Runciman biography, which will be my doorstopper for the month. There will be a shortlist event in London on the 18th, and on the 24th the shadow panel is meeting up to select a winner.

  • I’ll be finishing up a brief climate change feature for Foreword Reviews magazine, consisting of mini-reviews of four upcoming books on an environmental theme.

 

  • Review books I owe write-ups for: Jacob’s Room Is Full of Books by Susan Hill (released last month) and The Smell of Fresh Rain by Barney Shaw (out on the 14th). I’m fascinated by the science of smell and taste, so I’m intrigued to find out what Shaw has to say about a sense that often gets little attention.

 

  • Blog tour for Celeste Ng’s new novel, Little Fires Everywhere, on the 14th. I haven’t started it yet but I’m looking forward to it immensely.

 

  • You’d think with all those review books and library piles I wouldn’t be taking on any more projects…but I couldn’t resist agreeing to another “Book Wars” column (my third) for Stylist magazine, due on the 17th. I used to love reading Stylist when I worked in London; if you’re lucky enough to come across the magazine in your commuting, look out for my contribution to the Christmas-themed special.

 

  • The Iris Murdoch Readalong begins with Under the Net. I’ll aim to squeeze it in before the end of the month. (Can I count it as my Classic?!)

 

  • If I get a chance, I’ll also participate in German Literature Month by reading Bernhard Schlink’s The Woman on the Stairs on my Kindle.

 

  • I’m revisiting some of my favorite Victorian pastiches for an article on neo-Victorian novels for Bookmarks magazine, due at the end of the month.

 

  • Otherwise, I’ll be focusing on novellas for November, including some nonfiction novellas. I have a big pile of books set aside that are around 150 pages or shorter. I’ll get to as many of them as I can and summarize them in a roundup or two. They’re quick wins, true, often read in a single sitting (I read Alice Hoffman’s Survival Lessons this morning, for instance), but this doesn’t feel like a cheaty way to build up the book list because brevity is such an admirable skill.

How does November look for you?

Library Checkout Reboot

The Library Checkout blog meme was created by Shannon of River City Reading and previously hosted by Charleen of It’s a Portable Magic. I’m taking over as the host as of this month. There’s nothing too complicated about this challenge; it’s just a way of celebrating the libraries that you frequent, whether that’s your local public library branch or another specialist library. Maybe keeping track of your borrowing habits will encourage you to make even more use of libraries. Use ’em or lose ’em, after all.

I usually post this on the last Monday of the month, but you can post whenever is convenient for you. I’ll look into a proper link-up service, but for now just paste a link to your own post in the comments. (Feel free to use the above image, too.) The basic categories are: Library Books Read; Currently Reading; Checked Out, To Be Read; On Hold; and Returned Unread. Others I sometimes add are Skimmed Only and Returned Unfinished. I generally add in star ratings and links to reviews of any books I’ve managed to read.

 


A couple of weeks ago I went nuts at the university library on my husband’s campus. As a staff member he can borrow 25 books pretty much indefinitely (unless they’re requested). One or both of us has been associated with the University of Reading for over 15 years now, so the library there is a nostalgic place I love visiting. It’s technically currently undergoing a major renovation, but the books are still available, so it doesn’t make much difference to me.

 

LIBRARY BOOKS READ

  • Interlibrary Loan Sharks and Seedy Roms: Cartoons from Libraryland by Benita L. Epstein (So dated, I’m afraid! A few good ones, though.)
  • Fall Down 7 Times, Get Up 8 by Naoki Higashida 
  • Autumn by Karl Ove Knausgaard 
  • A Sand County Almanac by Aldo Leopold [university library] 

SKIMMED ONLY

  • Option B by Sheryl Sandberg and Adam Grant 

CURRENTLY READING

  • Slade House by David Mitchell
  • Halfway to Silence by May Sarton [poetry; university library]

CHECKED OUT, TO BE READ

A manageable selection from the public library:

Plus loads of books from lots of different genres from the university library; these will keep me going well past Christmas, I reckon!

 

RETURNED UNFINISHED


Have you been taking advantage of your local libraries? What appeals from my library stacks?

Omnibuses, Built-in Bookmarks, Deckle Edge: Book Traits I Love/Loathe

My reading has tipped more towards physical books than e-books recently, and my book acquisitions have been getting rather out of hand after some cheeky charity shopping and an influx of review copies. Plus this afternoon we’re off to Bookbarn International, one of my favorite secondhand bookstores, for an evening event – and naturally, we’ll fit in some shopping beforehand. It would be rude not to after traveling all that way.

With all this tempting reading material piling up, I’ve been thinking about some of the traits I most appreciate in books…

 

Omnibus editions: two to four books for the price of one. What could be better?

Built-in ribbon bookmarks: elegant as well as helpful. I also love how Peirene Press releases come with a matching paper bookmark for every three-book series.

Everything about the hardback edition of Claire Tomalin’s Dickens biography is gorgeous, in fact. I especially love the vintage illustrations on the endpapers and the half-size dustjacket.

Deckle edge is one of my special loves. For the most part it’s unique to American books (over here I’ve heard it complained about as looking “unfinished”), and always makes me think nostalgically about borrowing books from the public library in my parents’ town.

It may sound shallow, but I love these four novels almost as much for their colorful covers as for their contents. (Is it any wonder one of my favorite tags to use on Instagram is #prettycovers?) Several of these covers have raised lettering as well.

The History of Bees is one of the most attractive physical books I’ve acquired recently. The dustjacket has an embossed image; underneath it the book itself is just as striking, with a gold honeycomb pattern. There are also black-and-white bees dotted through the pages.

Colored text blocks are so unexpected and stylish.

 

And now for a few physical book traits I’m not as fond of. Perhaps my biggest pet peeve, impossible to photograph, is those matte covers that get permanent fingerprints on them no matter how gingerly you try to handle them.

I wish proof copies didn’t often come in nondescript covers that don’t give a sense of what the finished book will look like. (No ice cream cone on Narcissism for Beginners; no leaping fox on English Animals.) However, keeping in mind that I’m lucky to be reading all these books early, I mustn’t be a greedy so-and-so.

All Fitzcarraldo Editions books are paperbacks with French flaps. Another book I’m reading at the moment, As a God Might Be by Neil Griffiths (from Dodo Ink), also has French flaps. It’s not that I dislike them per se. I just wonder, what’s the point?

(See also two related posts: Books as Objects of Beauty and My (Tiny) Collection of Signed Copies.)


Okay, you opinionated book people: what are your favorite and least favorite book traits?