Shaina Reads

Goal #1 of 2019 is a go! I've finished two books in my Audible backlog since mid-January, bringing my unlistened-to total down to 20. My thanks go out to dishes, laundry, and a giant, truly-too-difficult jigsaw puzzle.

First, I listened to The Kiss Quotient by Helen Hoang, narrated by Carly Robin. This was fun and steamy, and Carly Robin did each character justice with only occasional voice-changing corniness. A few things pulled me out of the story, though, and some are hard to talk about them without spoiling. The protagonists kept making out and feeling each other up in front of one of their families. Why? Not trying to clutch pearls too tightly here, but it's family dinner, ya 30-year-old adults. Also, there was a sexual assault scene that... got worse, when I think the author meant for it to get better? I loved hearing the story of a character on the autism spectrum falling in love, written by someone also on the spectrum. However, what felt like endless would they-won't they + the issues I shared above made it a cute meh.

Next up was Sleeping Giants by Sylvain Neuvel, narrated by a full cast. This was a second try for me. It turned out to be a great audio thriller, high on personal drama with the added bonuses of giant robots, ancient aliens, and the people behind the scenes investigating/covering it all up. Told in dossier format, you get insight into every character's head through personal diaries and one-on-one interviews, and then the occasional news dispatches about how broader society is handling the supposed-to-be-secret giant robot and ancient alien thing. I saw some of the twists coming, but as much as I expected another "meh," the ending left me wanting more. I wanted to buy the other one via Audible immediately, but the library came through with no wait list. I've already blown through the sequel, Waking Gods, and currently have the finale Only Human out from the library. I found Waking Gods even more interesting than the first novel; it built off well-laid character foundations by throwing them into even more morally gray situations. I'm having trouble sinking into the final installment so far, but I have faith it will click with time.

I have had Unbroken Brain: A Revolutionary New Way of Understanding Addiction by Maia Svalavitz out from the library since January, but I haven't touched it in a couple weeks. Svalavitz frames substance use disorder as a learning disorder, using scientific evidence and her personal experiences with cocaine and heroin to build her case. My job has me wading into the weeds of opioid use disorder treatment strategies every day, and I often see substance use disorder framed either as moral failing or chronic disease. I've appreciated Svalavitz's willingness to think outside those boxes. The book is fascinating but dense; I started it in the thick of my concentration issues, and I stalled out halfway through. I want to give it another go now that those are subsiding.

ETA: Also entering my eyeballs lately is Rising Strong by Brene Brown. I don't have any coherent thoughts on it yet, but so much of it is speaking directly to my darkest beliefs about myself and others and helping me reconsider them. More soon!

I've struggled with how to start this post, but you know what? I'm just going to start.

I've finished graduate school, and I'm back in the world of full-time work and part-time rediscovery of what I like to do when I'm not at work. I keep thinking that second part should be simple now that I'm not a student, but I've never been great at transitions.

I still love to read and am thrilled to have more time for it now, but I've been circling my TBR hesitantly. I've had a harder time than normal focusing, retaining information, and sinking into narrative in any lasting way. Maybe I overstretched those attention muscles for school. It's possible facing the dung heap of the United States on a daily basis is training my brain to shut down as self-preservation.

What I do know? I want to try writing again, especially about the books I'm reading.

Here are a couple of my 2019 aspirations:

Chip away at my Audible backlog

I've waffled over cancelling my Audible subscription for months. It's felt especially handy ever since moving to Seattle. I never thought I'd be mad about living in a city full of readers, but the library holds lists for every medium are often backed up for weeks, if not months. For what's felt like a reasonable fee, I'm able to snap up whatever I want to listen to when I want to listen to it through Audible. But, joke's on me: for $17 a month, I've now got 22 books I couldn't wait to read at the time gathering virtual dust bunnies. Those holds lists don't seem so ridiculous now.

I've also recently realized 1) how much better I absorb and understand information when I'm reading it, and 2) how much longer it takes to listen to a book than to read it. Sometimes that information retention factor is less important, and often the audio versions of books have made my experience far better than they would have been if I'd read them. Sometimes, though, I want to better remember what I've read, and I also want to get through what I'm reading faster than an audiobook allows me to.

My Audible subscription is on hold now, and I'm going to cancel it when the time comes. I want to whittle away at my current backlog, shift more of my reading back to books and e-books, and give those interminable library holds lists a try.

Host a readathon or other event for Heather of Bits & Books

Just under two years ago, a fellow book blogger and dear friend Heather passed away. It was one of those accidents that felt fiercely unjust because of its complete randomness. I wish I'd known her better than I did, but I knew her enough to see how her enthusiasm (for budgies, baked goods, and especially books) and warmth touched not only me, but everyone around her. My heart still lurches when I see her blog in my RSS feed or her Twitter account pop up as I'm doing a search for something else. Knowing her, she'd probably just want me to smile at her memory and then find a delicious pastry and equally delicious novel.

Even while I've been out of the blogging world, I've kicked around the idea of hosting an event for Heather, perhaps in June for her birthday. I'm not sure what it would look like, but let me know if you'd have any interest in brainstorming or hosting with me.

It's funny how intimidating it can be to try to reenter a space you've left for a while. My blog was once the coziest, safest room I could find in which to put my feet and think things over by writing them out and sending them into the Internet tubes (and to a few lovely friends!). Now it feels alien in a way I could never have anticipated.

But then graduate school happened, and my quiet, introspective bubble expanded. My program centers case studies, group work, and intense personal and interpersonal reflection. We spend a ton of time talking about our work and how we can do it more effectively or equitably. This is both hella stressful and the most fulfilling way I've ever worked with others. I've forged a lot of strong bonds in that crucible of team work and trial and error. I never expected such an interpersonal program to work well for non-confrontational me, but, hey, personal growth, right? I'm leaving this program* with a better idea of what I value, personally and professionally.

I'm still trying to figure out where a book blog (or any kind of blog) fits into this new understanding of myself. Since I last posted here fourteen months ago, I've read a total of 26 books, a bit fewer than two a month. I still read, but it's slower. I savor picking up a book for fifteen minutes a day when I can, or squeezing audio in while I do the dishes. I did not expect it, but I'm enjoying that pace. I'm a distractible person, and I find books blur together when I try to read them back-to-back. I take more time now to embody the author's universe, more time to mull the characters and the big ideas over. Oh, and it has to be fiction, fiction-based, or told like a story. Ain't nobody got time for hard nonfiction in grad school.

My favorite books from the past year and change have been Born a Crime by Trevor Noah, Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, The Gate to Women's Country by Sheri S. Tepper, and Lilith's Brood, the Xenogenesis trilogy by Octavia E. Butler. Two audiobooks, two paperbacks, all standouts during a time when nonessential content fell by the wayside. Part of me thinks they mean more, somehow, but it could also be they came to me at the right moments. I'd recommend any of them if you want to get swallowed up by a story or let a narrator whisk you off. Everyone and their mother knows Noah narrates his own audio and how excellent it is. Rebecca's narrator was just aces at bringing the spooky factor to the story). Right now, I'm making my way through One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez. I put it down for a month or so, but the benefit of Márquez's meandering magical realism is not losing any plot threads.

I plan to tinker around a little more here and see if the mojo returns. I can't say how it will turn out, but I'll feel better knowing I didn't let this space perish from sheer inertia.

*Did I mention I finish school in three months? What the hell. When did that happen?!

A blurry photo of me, ostensibly doing field work in eastern Washington but mostly enjoying snow.

Wow, hey, hello! A blog post. I've sort of forgotten what to do with this big, blank text box, so you'll have to bear with me for bit.

Welp, the thing happened. I officially went blog silent. I knew graduate school would be a huge investment of time, tears, and brain cells, but I had the tiniest sliver of hope that I would keep up at least a trickle of reading and posting. Men We Reaped for Social Justice Book Club? The most wishful of thinking. All of the books I packed up and shipped across the country? Graciously keeping track of all of the dust in my apartment.

My graduate program gobbled me up in September and, with yesterday's submission of a 60-page report, only just spat me back out. Now I'm sitting here, a little bit dazed and rumpled, wondering what the heck to do with myself now. Because, guys, so much has happened.

1. I have learned so. much. I have more than 200 pages of Microsoft Word documents, including two real, actual, useful projects for local and state health organizations, to show for it.

2. I have started making friends. The way my program is set up makes this just about inevitable (you can't spend 6+ hours per week with seven other people without getting to know each other), but y'all know how hard this is for me. I can say without reservation that I am going to carry some of these people with me for the rest of my life, and I feel so lucky to have them.

3. Trump got elected. I spent a couple of weeks deep inside my own head, trying to figure out what I personally could do to make the world better, even in the smallest of ways, especially for my friends and peers of color. I succeeded sometimes and I failed at others, but I tried. I am going to keep trying.

4. On that note, I feel more certain than ever that I am on the right path, personally and professionally. I went into this quarter determined to be open, to learn, and to get the work done. I'm leaving it with more confidence than I have ever had that I can handle all of the stuff this life thing wants to throw at me and that I can handle much of it in way less time than I ever thought possible. I am amazed by what trust in myself, my colleagues, and my loved ones has produced in the past three months.

All right, anything else? Oh, BOOKS. I have read a grand total of *drum roll* FOUR books since school started.

• FEED by Mira Grant
• The Shadowed Sun by N. K. Jemisin (audio, narrated by Sarah Zimmerman)
• Kindred by Octavia Butler (audio, narrated by Kim Staunton)
• Invisible Man, Got the Whole World Watching: A Young Black Man's Education by Mychal Denzel Smith

That is just over one book per month. I cannot remember the last time my reading numbers have been this paltry, but thankfully, everything I did read was wonderful. I'd like to give a major shout out to Audible for getting me through half of that list while I did dishes. (RIP apartment with dishwasher.)

All right. I'm off to drink tea and do laundry, because apparently that's what the first day of winter break is for.

I'm so excited that I'm finally going to participate in the Social Justice Book Club, hosted by the lovely Kerry of Entomology of a Bookworm. I've wanted to participate since the club got started back in April, but the stars simply never aligned (read: laziness, moving, more laziness). Men We Reaped: A Memoir by Jesmyn Ward will be the last book club selection before the new year, so I finally decided to hop on the bandwagon. May graduate school forgive me.



To start, Kerry put together some introductory questions for us clubbers.

1. Where do you plan on discussing this book the most? Feel free to share links to your blog, social media channels, snap handles, etc. 

Given my current sporadic blogging schedule, I'll most likely be sharing hot takes on Twitter (@shainareads) under the #SJBC tag. It's also possible some content may show up on Instagram (@shainareadsbooks), Litsy (@shainareads) and Snapchat (@shainareads), but I'm very much crap at checking anything but Twitter these days. We shall see!

Also, Janani and I may host an #SJBC Twitter chat! This will soon be determined.

2. Where in the world are you reading?

For the very first time, I can answer this question with something other than Connecticut! I recently moved to Seattle, Washington for graduate school and, barring anything unexpected, I'll be reading here for the whole month. My local address, however, will change in October; my boyfriend and I get the keys to our new apartment tomorrow!

3. Why did you decide to join in on the reading and/or discussion of this book?

Like I said above, I have not yet successfully joined in on a Social Justice Book Club read. Given how excited I was when Kerry first floated the idea for the club, I'm moderately ashamed it's taken me this long to participate. I also happened to have Men We Reaped already loaded up on my Kindle, so it was meant to be.

4. What, if anything, are you most looking forward to about this book?

From what I've heard about Men We Reaped, I fully expect it to sock me in the gut, let me get back up and then roundhouse kick me right back to the ground. I've been drawn to books like this for as long as I can remember, but I think it will be an especially timely read considering my current graduate school classes. Right now, we're immersed in learning about how the American (public) health system (and American society on the whole, really) only sets some of us up for success. The men Ward writes about here were not among those privileged few, and I don't expect her to mince words as she explains why.