Japanese folklore, ace romance & a big ol' hunk of historical fiction

The books I've loved lately

Hello, friends

When I was in high school my best friends and I decided it would be a good idea to play a “game” wherein we went around a circle and said one thing we liked and one thing we didn’t like about each person. Suffice it to say it wasn’t our best idea, but teens tend to be fledgling masochists, so desperate for an external evaluation of the self that they’ll practically beg for a takedown. (See: AskFM and its defunct predecessors, “am I ugly” subreddits, literally all photo-based social media.)

I couldn’t tell you one good thing anyone said about me, but one of the criticisms hit me at my core—namely, that I was flaky and unreliable. (Some also said I was too boy crazy which I did not and do not find worrisome.) My shame/insecurity about lack of follow-through manifests in such a way that, somehow, it ends up ensuring I’ll drop the ball. This is primarily limited to self-directed tasks and responsibilities, which is why I’ve had much more success in good old fashioned employment as opposed to freelancing, which is unfortunate because I’d spent most of my life dreaming of freelancing as my perfect future. Depressed in exploitative jobs, depressed in the independent hustle. What’s a girl to do!!!!! Keep looking for something better, I suppose.

This is a long-winded way of saying I quietly paused paid subscriptions again because I promised more than I could deliver, and I’m embarrassed about not quite knowing how to stop doing that. And, like, in an ideal world I’d never open them again (maybe I won’t!!!!) because in an ideal world I could just not have to monetize a pastime that brings me joy, i.e. sending you all letters about cool books et cetera. Maybe this is not very #girlboss or #demandyourworth of me but the fact that you welcome me into your inbox feels crazy cool already. Money introduces a pressure I kind of flounder in. Ultimately, unless I’m like, “Yes, this is a product, this is a service requiring labor,” the people whose money I want are those who’ve made their wealth off my labor, none of whom are you. (Unless Jonah is a subscriber?)

[Update from roughly three months after I started this letter: I will also be starting a monthly book column at Bustle (!), which is another reason to not collect $$]

Anyway!!! Those high school friends are still my best friends and often we’re like “wtf was wrong with us,” so, you know, it’s fine. Regardless I do not recommend the game.

My Husband by Maud Venture, translated by Emma Ramadan

Speaking of boy crazy!!! The obsession in this slim debut novel is limited to, as you might have guessed, the narrator’s husband of 15 years, but it is a level of infatuation and paranoia that is off the charts. She thinks about him constantly. She wishes she could text him all day. She keeps a notebook filled with all of the reason she loves him, which she updates daily. But there’s a darker side, too. She sets up tests and traps to gauge how much he loves her; she anticipates unfounded ways he’s disappointed in her and then tries to correct them. The husband is oblivious to all of this. The narrator lives in a world and drama of her creation, and which she is desperate to control. It’s creepy, gripping, absurdly funny, and a very exciting read. Buy it at: Bookshop, Libro.fm

Follow Your Bliss by Jessica Roberts

Full disclosure: Jess is the sister of my ride-or-die best friend Emily, meaning she was second family for years. [Jess was also the first person to tell me—in 1998!!!!—that you could make your lips look bigger by lining outside your natural lips, though she has no memory of this.] Anyone who writes about books will know the specific anxiety of reading a friend’s book. What a gift and relief it is when the book is VERY GOOD! I’m not a very prolific romance reader, but I read Follow Your Bliss—about a demisexual woman who agrees to a friend’s brother so he can get on her health insurance—in one sitting. Jess is a lifelong reader, and you can tell. The writing is so tight, the dialogue so realistic, the sex scenes are very sexy, and the character diversity doesn’t read like a thrown-in afterthought. It’s a joy to read. Buy it at: Amazon

Loved and Missed by Susie Boyt

This slim novel—about Ruth, a single mother who takes custody of her granddaughter when her daughter Eleanor, deep in opioid addiction, becomes unable to care for her—knocked me out. Through her relationship with her granddaughter, Ruth tries desperately to correct the mistakes she made with Eleanor, balancing shame with unwieldy, overpowering love. It is also a work nearing cruelty for how absolutely heartbreaking it is, but the beauty makes it worth it: The tragedies never feel gratuitous. Buy at: Bookshop

Roaming by Jillian Tamaki and Mariko Tamaki

If Jillian Tamaki has published a book, I’m reading it before I even know what it’s about—especially when her cousin Mariko is the co-creator. For those who would like to know, Roaming follows a trio of college girls—a pair of childhood best friends plus a new roommate who throws the entire trip off balance—on a trip to NYC in 2009. It’s about young queer exploration, crossing the boundaries of comfort zones, and trying on new identities. Dead-on in its portrayal of clumsy early adulthood growth, and, as always, matched with dreamy, evocative illustrations. Buy at: Bookshop

My Little One by Germano Zullo and Albertine, translated from French by Katie Kitamura

For parents—but also, honestly, any art book/zine fans who are interested in the human spirit—My Little One is a short, line-drawn picture book about a mother trying to explain the wonder of existence to her son as he grows and she fades away. Big ideas for little ones but I’m a firm believer in the capacity of young kids to hold those big ideas, and their interest in talking about them. This is basically I Love You Forever for abstract thinkers. Buy at: Elsewhere Editions

Kappa by Ryunosuke Akutagawa, translated by Lisa Hofmann-Kuroda and Allison Markin Powell

Weird little books! Weird little books! My favorite genre. This was my introduction to Akutagawa, who was a prolific and celebrated short story writer in the early 20th century before, well, killing himself right after writing this novella. (Everywhere I turn the universe says: Please, I’m begging you, just finish your book.) Kappa are scaly, frog-like, cucumber-loving li’l monsters from Japanese folklore—who also happen to drown toddlers in rivers? Yikes!—and this 96-page book, narrated by Patient No. 23 at an insane asylum, recounts a man’s hallucinatory journey into their whimsical and grotesque world. Very much Alice in Wonderland/Gulliver’s Travels vibes, if you, like me, find both Alice in Wonderland and Gulliver’s Travels quite unsettling. Buy at: Bookshop

Rouge by Mona Awad

Before I’d even finished its third chapter I texted my friend to recommend Rouge, which I described as “surreal skincare/wellness horror,” and which follows a woman as she loses herself (literally?) in what is either a spa or a cult while mourning the death of her youth– and beauty–obsessed mother’s death. It’s jarring, smart, absurd (a narrative thread involving Tom Cruise made me laugh out loud a few times) and supremely strange, though I will say I was a tad underwhelmed by the finale. Do with this what you will, but in the course of listening to it I built an entirely new skincare routine based on hours of subreddit research. I’m sure this, in itself, is a testament to the power of Awad’s insights about the trap of “self-care.” Chasing youth is oppositional to wellbeing—but, wait, tell me more about salicylic acid? Buy at: Bookshop, Libro.fm

Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel

Every now and then—it’s rare!—I crave a big ol’ hunk of historical fiction, specifically via audiobook (and usually listened to while doing a 1000-piece puzzle). The best endorsement I can give Wolf Hall, which is about Thomas Cromwell and his rise through Henry VIII’s reign, is that despite my inability to retain any political history for more than 60 seconds, I couldn’t get enough of this book. I maintained a permanent row of revelant Wikipedia tabs while listening so I could pause and remind myself which of the 13 Thomases was talking, but none of this extra work detracted from my glee. The absolute drama of it all!! I cried! Multiple times! And I hate the monarchy! Buy at: Bookshop, Libro.fm

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Etc.

• Listen: Say More, an extremely funny improv podcast (not a genre I’d usually choose but the ads got me) wherein Amy Poehler nails the celebrity therapist voice

• Subscribe: Contact, Katie Heaney’s newsletter about aliens and cryptids. Katie remains the only writer who consistently makes me laugh out loud.

• Play:* Unpacking, a cozy puzzle/narrative game in which you unpack the protagonist’s boxes across seven moves and eleven years, putting together the story of her life in the process; Chants of Sennaar, a very beautiful Tower of Babel–inspired mystery/puzzle game that revolves around decoding five pictorial languages through conversation and context clues.

• Watch: Bones, lol. Twelve seasons of campy crime scenes, perfectly executed character tropes, a shamelessly drawn out will they/won’t they arc—I never want it to end.

  *After a 20-year hiatus I am heavy into video games again