September 2020, and it was hard to breathe

Last month, my newsletter was called “August And The Earth Was On Fire,” but it seems like I could have waited to talk about that. For a good chunk of the month, my city, Seattle, was immersed in haze; a depressing sepia tone masked the entire west coast. And I was one of the lucky ones. I was nowhere near a fire, there was no threat of evacuation, and I didn’t have to, at least immediately, fear for my life. But it was miserable. The first day or two were the throes of summer, 80 degrees or more outside, which made having to keep the windows shut tight pretty suffocating. We eventually lost the heat to the smoke and were thrown into 55 degree days; an abrupt transition into a confusing autumn. The smoke carried on, made worse by the ever-changing forecast that it would get better; the looming promise of clean air. We heard it would be Sunday, and then Tuesday, and then maybe Friday, and then and then and then, all the while watching spotty coverage of the toxic air and the fires in our neighboring states.

One of the Book Riot book challenges this year is to read a book about climate change, and while one of the books I read this month is tangentially about climate, I realize I’ve been putting off sitting down and reading a whole book about it. I will — you know I love to accomplish a goal — but I’m nervous about it. Though I was an incredibly nervous kid, I’ve hardened over the years and few things make me feel that way as an adult. I have lived alone for the better part of six years and almost never worry when I hear bumps in the night. (I get annoyed, though.) I’m not easily scared. I watched the movie Hereditary by myself with all of the lights on. Spiders don’t even scare me, in fact, I like them. I’m not afraid of clowns, or snakes, or any of those slightly comical, incredibly common fears. But the way climate change has and will continue to present itself? Fucking terrifies me.

One of the things that scared me the most when I was a kid was the scene in Terminator 2: Judgment Day where Sarah Connor envisions a nuclear nightmare. One minute, she’s watching kids play in a park, the next, everyone is engulfed in flames, Sarah included, as she soundlessly screams for her life, gripping onto a metal gate. (As a kid, I was convinced her hands had melded with the gate, fuzed by the fire, which was an unnecessarily a great fear in my life, as if I would also die gripping a metal gate.) That haunted my dreams as a kid, and is probably one of the reasons I feel a total unease around any flame bigger than a candle’s lit wick. And while I’m not necessarily kept up at night thinking about nuclear warfare (ANYMORE!!), I do think of that scene when I think of any general “end of the world” concept, and well, we’ve all been thinking about the end of the world quite a bit this year.

Anyway, I will get around to the climate change book, and I imagine I will have T2-esque nightmares that week and maybe for the rest of my life. It’s already been about 25 years since I first saw Terminator 2 and the fear is still here, even as I’m beginning to forget other small details from my childhood. I’m sorry that this newsletter is always a downer, but maybe one day, I’ll feel comfortable discussing literally anything happy. We’ll see how strong my new antidepressant is.

I also feel obligated to say make sure you have a voting plan since the next time I send this out, many of us will have voted already. I have incredibly mixed feelings about voting, about the candidates we’re handed time and time again, and about American politics in general. (Well, not really mixed feelings about American politics. They are simply corrupt and bad.) But, if nothing else, I’d like this pandemic to end, and it will not end under our current reign. There is no way in hell if you’re reading this, you’re voting for Donald Trump, but I still feel like I have a very small platform and should say that I am voting for Joe Biden. Vote for science, if nothing else.

Okay, here’s what I read this month.

[Books I Read With My Eyes]

Feasting Wild: In Search of the Last Untamed Food by Gina Rae La Cerva
Since I bought a Kindle, I’ve gotten back into the bad habit of putting way too many books on hold and then having them all pour in at once. By the time I got to this, I had literally less than two days to read it before the digital return would disappear. Is this interesting? Not really, but I am sharing this because I started the book thinking it would be fine if the hold lapsed and I didn’t get to finish it, but instead, the exact opposite thing happened. I was immersed immediately and had to finish it with mere hours to spare. A simple summary: Feasting Wild is about our relationship to wild foods. I personally think it’s written compassionately and is self-aware. Interwoven with descriptions of wild food is commentary on climate change and there’s even a damn love story! Did I ever think a book “about food” (it’s bigger than that) would make me cry? (No.)
[travelogue, nonfiction, written by a cis woman of color, medium read]

The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett
This is like the book of the summer, isn’t it? I admittedly did not love Mothers, Bennett’s debut novel as much as everyone else, so I went into The Vanishing Half wondering if I would be underwhelmed. But I wasn’t! I was perfectly whelmed. It’s a gift to have Black literature that touches on issues that aren’t heavily guided by what white people want to read from Black writers. This book is about colorism, between the protagonist twins themselves, and between each of their daughters, one who doesn’t even know she’s Black, one who is so dark she’s frequently cast aside by society, including her own town. It bears repeating that I am biracial and I identify closer with my Black side and I am light skinned enough that I could pass for white, so obviously this book’s themes were relevant to me. And of course, I have many more words about the complicated feelings I have about being a white passing Black person, but I don’t have the energy for that now.
[novel, fiction, written by a Black cis woman, decent length read]

Songs of a Captive Bird: A Novel by Jasmin Darznik
One of my lingering library hostages! I have three that I’m hanging onto, that I grabbed in March in a hectic fervor to not be left without reading material in a pandemic. And I finally picked this one up! This book is written from the point of view of Forough Farrokhzad, who dies, tragically and quickly, at the age of 34. Though it reads like a memoir, obviously Farrokhzad didn’t write it because it was written by Darznik, who was inspired by Farrokhzad’s life. To me, it was respectful, historic, beautiful, and devastating. A story like this always gives me pause — how did Farrokhzad’s family feel about it? Was it truthful? Does it honor her? I hope so. Oftentimes after finishing a book, I read a review or two, or check out the author’s twitter account, but when I was done with this, I read everything I could find about Farrokhzad, who was smart, brave, bold, and gorgeous.
[novel, biographical historical fiction, written by an Iranian cis woman, decent length read]

Interior Chinatown: A Novel by Charles Yu
(Another library hostage) and this one is actually a “peak pick” which is what my local library system calls books that are new and/or popular and you have to grab them from the shelf to get them, no reservations. So basically I was lucky to grab this and I now I’ve had it in my living room for nearly seven months, so I am sorry to my fellow Seattle Public Library System patrons. Yu’s book is fun, emotional, smart, and extremely unique. I fucking love when I pick a book up that throws me for a loop with its formatting and structure. I read a lot (obviously) so when I come across a book that says fuck off to traditional book formatting, I am always in.
[novel, fiction, written by a Taiwanese-American cis man, short read]

Not Like the Movies by Kerry Winfrey
I would suggest you read Waiting for Tom Hanks before you read this but even if you don’t, it’s a true delight. I love reading books that are fun and sweet and funny and romantic and I don’t do it nearly enough. After finishing Winfrey’s latest, I reminded myself that I should because nothing makes me warmer and happier. This month was bad (see above) and everything felt heavy and horrible and hard and reading this was a balm. I actually had fun. Chloe, the protagonist of this story (who we know from WFTH!) is smart, neurotic, fun, independent, and shoulders too much. I am…most of those things. Something about the general romcom genre, either in film/TV or in books, that I do not relate to is the traditionalism. I will not have biological kids, and I hate the institution of marriage and I think big traditional weddings are a waste of money and if I ever marry, it will not be a whole thing. I love reading more characters like that — like me! — and even though (SPOILER) Chloe is in love, she’s just in love, it’s not because she’s 30something and needs to have a husband and kids. She’s in love and that’s the extent of it and boy oh boy do I appreciate that. This book is funny! It made me cry THREE TIMES!

And Kerry Winfrey has a real knack for paying homage to rom coms while keeping them modern. She builds incredible characters, she’s hilarious and fun and sensitive and she’ll make you want to eat a goddamn pie. PLEASE ALLOW YOURSELF SOME FUN AND READ THIS SET.
[romance novel, fiction, written by a white cis woman, medium read]

Everlasting Nora by Marie Miranda Cruz
The only reason I read this book was to check off my Book Riot challenge, “read a middle grade book that doesn’t take place in the US or the UK.” I obviously don’t usually read middle grade books and I don’t have kids, so why would I? Everlasting Nora was really good though, and pretty adult for the recommended age range. There’s violence and heavy parental trauma themes and hey, I liked reading it.
[middle grade novel, fiction, written by a Filipino cis woman, shorter read]

Winter Counts by David Heska Wanbli Weiden
This is the third month of Kara Brown’s Book Club and I’m excited to see what she picks next. She has great taste and reads a ton and is very smart. Winter Counts is probably not a book I would have picked up anytime soon on my own, but it was a fun book that is very hard to stop reading because you desperately want to know what comes next. Fun is a weird word because it’s also one of the more violent books I’ve read in awhile, but I love a little vigilante justice. I am writing this just a few hours after Kara’s conversation with the author and he confirmed a sequel, which is very exciting. Similar to how I felt after finishing Tommy Orange’s There, There, it is nice to see Native and Indigenous authors finally get opportunities to write modern novels. I would like more and more and more books (and film! and television!!!) with modern Native characters. I also rarely read books written by MEN and this month, I read two!
[suspense novel, fiction, written by an enrolled member of the Sicangu Lakota nation, cis man, medium read]

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince by J.K. Rowling
Though I bought this book on July 16, 2005, as the inscription on the opening page reminded me, I donated the cost of it to the Ingersoll Gender Center. I don’t think there’s a lot of space to discuss the plot points and characters of the Harry Potter series right now, but maybe I’ll have more on it next month, when I finish the last book, for what I believe is the fifth or sixth time.
[fiction, sixth in a series, fantasy, written by a white cis woman, very long read]

[Audiobooks]

Becoming Nicole: The Transformation of an American Family by Amy Ellis Nutt
While cleaning out my camera roll, I came across tens of books that I’d taken pictures of in bookstores (pre-pandemic) or from other people’s instagrams and Becoming Nicole was one of the “older” photos I had. I’m picky about what I want to listen to on audio so it basically has to be a memoir or auto/biography and this fit the bill. Nutt spent four+ years with the Maines family reporting for this book. Getting to know Nicole and Jonas, her twin brother, was an experience I’m not sure I’ll forget. They are regular ass kids, twins, adopted by a loving set of parents, who fought like hell for Nicole’s rights. I actually had no idea, as I listened to this, that Nicole Maines is a decently well-known actress these days, so finishing this book about her life and looking her up online was a lovely experience.
[biography, nonfiction, written by a white cis woman, long listen, read by author]

Mental: Lithium, Love, and Losing My Mind by Jaime Lowe
I guess I’m interested in psychiatric drugs, which is why I listened to this. Generally speaking, mental health is really something that interests me, which isn’t unique, but it’s something I’ve spent a lot of time getting right in my own life. Like many of you, I’m sure, the adults in my family basically all have untreated (and sometimes, but rarely, treated) mental illnesses that they soothed by being addicted to stuff. I was a highly aware child and subconsciously committed to making sure I had my shit together as an adult. And you know what? I really do have my shit together. But this isn’t about me. Lowe was diagnosed with what was then called manic depressive disorder, but is now most commonly referred to as bipolar disorder. I have bipolar in my very close family line. It’s interesting to me, and the history of it is too. Lowe’s memoir is partially personal experience, partially research based, which I really appreciate in a nonfiction book. I want to note that Lowe is white and I do wish (and hope, I guess) that more people of color get book deals to talk about their history with mental health because this conversation, and the content of the book, would be drastically different. A white woman with parents with money coming up in the 80s has a very different experience than, say, a Black woman would have. However, Lowe knows that, and does speak to it and as she choked through the last chapter, repeating over and over, “I was lucky,” I had to cry alongside her.
[memoir, nonfiction, written by a white cis woman, long listen, read by author]

[What I Recommend]

I really think Feasting Wild: In Search of the Last Untamed Food is something everyone should find the time to read. The Vanishing Half is worth your time, if for no other reason than you’d get to have an opinion on one of the most talked about books this summer. And I will reiterate that Not Like the Movies and its predecessor Waiting for Tom Hanks, both by Kerry Winfrey, are little slices of fun in a time where few things are.

”I’d learned that life was harsher, but also more varied and pleasurable, than I’d imagined.” Song of a Captive Bird

“Nothing’s enough. Do what you can.” Song of a Captive Bird

“There are a few years when you make almost all of your important memories. And then you spend the next few decades reliving them.” Interior Chinatown

“…for now, I’m reminded that romance isn’t the only great love story of our lives. Sometimes the love we have with our lifelong friends, the ones we can depend on through changes and fights and joys and heartbreaks — sometimes those are the greatest love stories we have.” Not Like the Movies

“We must try not to sink beneath our anguish, Harry, but battle on.” Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince