Having a single post to cover all I read in 2016 was a bit overwhelming—both to write and, I'm sure, to read. So I've decided instead to do a monthly recap of books I've read, and share a little about each book. For past months, see:
January Reads
February Reads
March Reads
April Reads
May Reads
June Reads
July Reads
I was
going to say I didn't read much last month, but I guess that pile isn't too shabby. I read very little on
our three-week road trip. I brought plenty of books with me and bought even more along the way (national parks have the best book stores), but I didn't find time to read more than a few paragraphs. But it appears that I made up for lost time when I got home.
Read-Aloud. I started reading
A Wrinkle in Time to the kids in the tent at night on our return trip and finished up after we got home (with only E listening at the end; he's my best audience). I was surprised to find nothing familiar about this book, even though I've always assumed I'd read it at
some point in the past. I was also surprised by the religious element. I'd thought the L'Engle books were the humanist antidote to the Narnia books, but that must be something else? While we were driving, I had E and Z each read aloud from books I'd brought along for them (gifts they'd received over the last year but hadn't yet read) and was appalled by the atrocious writing and just generally dumb premise in both of them (one by a bestselling adult author) so I was pleased that the writing in
Wrinkle was decent and the story carried along at a good clip, but my reaction overall to the book was, "Huh?" I just found it kinda weird. Maybe because I'm not usually a sic-fi reader I haven't learned to suspend my disbelief? I don't know, but at least now I can say I've read it.
Poetry. After we got home, I got back in my read a poem or two each morning habit, and read the short collection,
Mothering Through, by Catharine Murray, which I had picked up earlier this summer on the alumni book table at my MFA reunion. I'm not a great judge of poetry, so I won't speak to the quality of these poems, but other than the subject matter (the author's young son dying of cancer), I will say they weren't terribly memorable.
Fiction. And it would appear I was still in summer reading mode this month, continuing with the Elizabeth Peters/Amelia Peabody marathon that's been going on all summer. The boys and I even listened to audiobooks of two of the books (which I reread earlier this summer) on our drive out to Colorado. I suspected they would enjoy the ones where Amelia's son, Ramses, is young (and always stirring up trouble) and I was pleased to find I was correct. I finished the
Painted Queen, which is the posthumously published (and written by another author) final book in the series, and I was still disappointed in it, for
all the reasons I went into last month. The disappointment was tempered by the fact that six books follow The Painted Queen, if the series is read in chronological (rather than publication) order. I read the next four and I'm halfway through the fifth of these, which means I'll get back to more Serious reading later this month.