Everything I Read in November

I owe y'all many things—or technically, I don't, because I run this for fun—but for now, just wanted to drop an update on the books I finished in November. This month, I'll go back and try to write some mini reviews: one of each book I haven't yet covered on my Read in 2025 list, even if each is only a paragraph or a graphic. For now, these social media posts are a decent summary.

I like these little summary graphics. The image is from a new bookstore in one of the silos on the North Shore, at the Waialua Sugar Mill that's by my house. During one of my last days in Waialua, I walked over during the farmer's market to scoop some Mele Mele muffins and a strawberry matcha, and the best key lime pie tart ever from a little farm stand. Turns out that Blue Lawn Book Shoppe is now operating there in tandem with a little vintage shop. It's kind of just two shelves so far, but it's a good start (and the gal who runs it is very nice.)

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I listened to The Night Circus. I read Is Peace Possible? at the bar I worked at and briefly gave a coworker an existential crisis. (I had a weekend in which three people separately told me that in a day, in which I thought I was just making regular conversation.)

I'm on a cowboy kick, as noted, and also have been reading lots of writing memoirs and craft books this year, as every author has a different, bumpy process. I did not like Writing Creativity and Soul which felt horribly cheesy to me. Refuse to Be Done had some great gems, but it will likely benefit new writers more. Still, the suggestions were tangible and some of them were fresh to me. Overall, a solid read about writing.

Every so often, I get comfort from a book about my religion—not so much religious texts themselves, but the poeticism surrounding it (ex: Love Poems from God is one of my favorites along with some good ol' Rilke, but I'm not one for like, testimonials)—and love restrained works, so Flannery O'Connor's A Prayer Journal felt in line with what I like, God-wise. I'll share some highlights.

“If we could accurately map heaven some of our up-&-coming scientists would begin drawing blueprints for its improvement.”

Strikes me as a very similar sentiment to a thought I loved in Steinbeck's Travels with Charley, which also taps into a fatigue we all have now around optimization and scroll culture and the sense that everything is oversaturated and so everything else is just a lil' numb:

“[Americans] spend their hours and money on the couch searching for a soul.”

Which also ties into Peter Matthiessen's endless escapist search for a paradise elsewhere or some form of universal truth or cohesion. Searching for that something "real" in a landscape that then feels increasingly less real overall, which then makes you assume that the real things around you are not real enough. Like the dimmer switch going down, but for the blur of daily living. Do you trust your own sense of recognition?

But I'll get to that below in my current reads. Will only drop one more quote for you on that wavelength, from Flowers for Algernon:

“It is difficult to know whether I am experiencing a new sensation or recalling the past. It is impossible to tell what proportion is memory and what exists here and now—so that a strange compound is formed of memory and reality; past and present; response to stimuli stored in my brain centers, and response to stimuli in this room. It’s as if all the things I’ve learned have fused into a crystal universe spinning before me so that I can see all the facets of it reflected in gorgeous bursts of light...”

I picked up The Favorites before a flight and absolutely loved it. The first half felt overly familiar, like something I'd read before, and the second half did too honestly—which I'll speak to in my review—but so many small details tied together so cleanly that it was ultimately an addictive, satisfying book about topics I happen to love (Olympics, pursuit of greatness, dance forms and the arts, etc.) Like Daisy Jones, but for ice dancing.

Per my revision reading list, I've been reading plenty of works about Appalachian folklore in preparation for working on Mountain Sounds.

I've barely started my next revision aside from planning the different choices I'll make within the text—which is a lot of the battle—but that's because I went down with pneumonia and then had to move alone, and also had my biggest deadline month of the year within journalism.

Over the past few years, November has proven to predictably be my toughest month both mentally and physically—probably because I run myself into the ground for most of the year then suffer the consequences. I thought I was better this year about conscious rest, but I've also done a whole lot and acclimated quickly enough to that momentum to forget exactly how quickly I've been running. I'm a bit restless, in case you couldn't tell, which makes me despise being forcibly stopped by illness or injury.

I'm working my way through several chunky reads. I've been reading True Nature: The Pilgrimage of Peter Matthiessen since late October. It's a behemoth, but at the same time, I also revisit it in small chunks before bedtime. I have so many thoughts about it that each section feels really rich—and that's part of the ethos of the book too, as Lance Richardson emphasizes Peter Matthiessen's seemingly infinite, fractured selves. He's a man who lived many, many lives, but was often desperate for a sense of cohesion he couldn't quite reach. So—lots to unpack.

I started reading Lonesome Dove as a bucket list item, and listening to it on audio at points when driving or packing (because Will Patton is my all-time favorite narrator) and so wasn't expecting to love it as much as I do. I thought I'd like it, sure, but the voice is so clever and often even funny to me. I'm having such a pleasant time that I don't want it to end, and deeply relish the experience. But I'm only about 20% through anyway, so I'm not in danger of finishing it any time soon.

I'm reading Wards of the State (a finalist for the National Book Awards this year) as well as Bedlam and The Unspeakable Mind for book research.

Then, I did pick up my Twilight-era copy of Wuthering Heights because so many read it around Christmastime. Plus, it's a Gothic.

I'll report back on the others shortly. I went back to the doctor for the third time and they gave me much stronger drugs. So I'm still foggy and hurting, but settled in for the holidays to read and write and rest and try not to think too far ahead. But I know what all I'd love to do as soon as I'm feeling better enough to really lean into WLS this month—and play catch up!

Chat soon. Bye.