My Books of 2009: A High of 70, with a Chance of Eye Strain

I'm sending out 2009 with 70 books read.

This was my second year keeping track, and last year's book total was 61. My tally as of this Tuesday: 69 books. It was too close to 70 -- and too close to nerd dirty jokes -- for me to stop there. As we say around the holidays, "Why stop eating now?" So when 2010's breathing down my neck, "Why stop reading now?" Books!

This year I considered rejiggering the spreadsheet. Adding more categories, potentially some formulas, maybe a 3D rotating representation of the data. People weighed in with questions and comments throughout the year: Does a reread count? Was I going to add literary journals? Poetry collections? Anthologies? Encyclopedias, a la A.J. Jacobs?

Alas, I come from the Avril Lavigne school of thought: Whydja have to go and make things so complicated? Also I do not read encyclopedias. So once again, I counted only books that I read all the way through, in the categories of fiction, nonfiction, and young adult novels.*

We may also consult Lavigne on the issue of choosing books. She posits: HEY HEY YOU YOU I DON'T LIKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND; the girlfriend in question's offense being that, quote, She's like, so whatever, unquote. From this we can surmise that issues of taste influence our basest needs and desires, and are not to be trifled with, lest a Sk8tr Grrl engage you in a round of mini-golf bullying.** In other words, different people like different things, often for reasons they cannot articulate. OK.


And now it's time for the breakdown:
-29 novels, 20 nonfiction (11 memoirs), 13 young adult, 8 short story collections
-31 books by women, 39 by men
-High: 11 books in December, 10 apiece in May and July
-Low: Once again, November, 1 book read atop a whole lotta grading.

Power of the spoken word: Some of my favorite books this year were by people whose readings I attended. The Lazarus Project by Aleksandar Hemon and Gilead by Marilynne Robinson (at the AWP Conference in Chicago), Paper Towns by John Green (at the Second Story fundraiser - a great nonprofit, should you wish to contribute), Space by Jesse Lee Kercheval and The Florist's Daughter by Patricia Hampl (both on campus. Joe Bonomo gave another great reading, and I'm eager to finish his book Sweat in 2010.)

Location, location: I read Elizabeth Strout's Olive Kitteridge, set on the Maine coast, at the beach. Years ago, my friend Barney recommended Another Bullshit Night in Suck City by Nick Flynn; I read the Boston-based memoir on the flight to his wedding there (Barney's, not Nick Flynn's). Far more books were read on my porch for as long as the weather allowed. In the winter I retreated to the couch with my homemade Snuggie. (Wanna make something of it? Do not anger the Snuggie.)

Word of mouth: still my favorite way to learn about books. Students, friends, family, the mailman -- everybody's got a suggestion. And this year I was able to recommend something new to Walt, our literary letter carrier: Mailman by J. Robert Lennon, also a rec from the aforementioned Barney, set in my old stomping grounds of Central New York. I had to warn Walt: the title character besmirches the occupation's name. He was interested nonetheless.

I finished Middlemarch -- a hefty book that I actually started the year before -- the same day Michael Jackson died. I have no idea what this means. Except for this (spoiler alert) from the book's last page: "...For the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs."

Thanks, George Eliot. I needed that.



Notes on the note
*Also comparing '08 and '09 is easier using the same categories. Apples to apples, rather than oranges to Runts candy shaped like oranges. And I did make note of poetry collections (11), because why not? I am officially reporting two rereads this year, for the stringent book auditors among us: Which Brings Me to You by Elinor Lipman, and The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz. Though I'd read and loved both in 2008, it was like opening brand-new books. Way to go, retention. Slow it up already.

**Notice that the bookish/nerdy Girlfriend who is mocked in this video is played by Lavigne herself. The singer's divided persona*** clearly shows her competing desires to be loved for her brains (as indicated by plaid skirt, glasses, and do-you-smell-bleu-cheese facial expressions) as well as her Sk8tr Grrl looks. But watch who indirectly sends whom into the pond. And then a Port-a-Potty. Just sayin'.

***There are really three versions of Lavigne in the video, two of which get the same guy. It's practically Jane Austen, save for the skirt hems and (dramatic pause, sharp intake of breath, Gwyn-brit accent) utter lack of honor.