September 2023, do you remember?

completely booked is tardy af

September 2023, do you remember?

This is the latest I’m ever sending out a monthly bookletter, and it’s not that I feel bad or remorseful; I feel incomplete and a little irritated. The last couple of weeks have been busy in the strangest of ways: lots of big conversations and celebrations, changes of season and shifting routines, settling in, sleeping in, struggling to fall asleep, realizing. Hey, I guess it’s fall.

Since this is well overdue, and I read a million books in September (and don’t worry, so far, October’s bookletter is looking to be a shorty), let’s do it.

completely booked is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

[Books I read]

Clutter: An Untidy History by Jennifer Howard (2020) | Quick summary: Part memoir, part history of how the developed world became so obsessed with having and keeping stuff.
Great book. I’ve found myself very interested in this kind of research book and, in general, this subject. Studies on hygge, books about Swedish death cleaning, organization tips in general. This is a quick, fun, sad, interesting read.
[nonfiction, human studies, addiction, aging, written by a white american writer and journalist, short read]

What Janie Saw (2012) and Janie Face to Face (2013) by Caroline B. Cooney. Quick summary: The final two novels in the Janie Johnson series following a high school student who realized she was raised by her accidental kidnappers.
These are the final two books in the series I spent the summer revisiting and what a delight. I was combing through what I’ve read this year and realized this is the most fun I’ve had reading all year. That could change—there are a few months left—but so far, Cooney’s fun little five-series book full of 90s fear, drama, and family was the right move for me. And probably you.
[fiction-mystery novel series, YA, written by a white american author, shortish read]

Living When a Loved One Has Died by Earl A. Grollman (1979) and How to Live When a Loved One Dies: Healing Meditations for Grief and Loss by Thích Nhất Hạnh (2021) | Quick summaries: Support, ideas, advice, and care for people who are suffering from profound loss and grief.
I think most people who read this know that I’ve been mainlining grief books for myself and my general interest, so I can have the best recommendations for friends who are deep in grief and cannot vet books for themselves. More specifically, my oldest and one of my best friend’s 7-year-old son died of a brain tumor earlier this year. What I’ve found in many, many grief books is that they steer away from the possibility that a kid can die. The most applicable writing I’ve found is usually around infant and baby loss, which is deeply tragic, upsetting, and quite different from losing your 7-year-old son over three fast, bleak months. Each of those books is different, but I’m lumping them together because they’re both books I did pass on to that friend; they’re not written in narrative form so you can pick up, flip to a page, and put down, and at least Hanh’s Healing Meditations offers practical healing, like going outside and feeling connected to the earth.
[nonfiction, books on grief, therapeutic and sociological, written by a white rabbi grief-expert and a vietnamese monastic and peace activist, respectively, shorter reads]

The Grieving Therapist: Caring for Yourself and Your Clients When It Feels Like the End of the World (2023) by Justine Mastin, LMFT and Larisa A. Garski, LMFT and Welcome to the Grief Club: Because You Don't Have to Go Through It Alone by Janine Kwoh (2023) | Quick summary: A book by therapists and for therapists about the concept of grief; a picture-y book about grief]
These two honestly don’t belong together, but if we were playing the NYT’s Connections game, the category could be “books that don’t work for Jess Tholmer.” The first one is my bad—I’m not a therapist, but I thought reading from a therapist’s perspective might be interesting. These two family therapists are funny, brilliant, and two people I probably wouldn’t see as my therapist. I stuck this in my Little Free Library and hope it finds a great place to be! It also really focused on pandemic grief more than people-dying grief, which is fair enough! But not what I wanted to read. Welcome to the Grief Club is cutesy, almost the opposite of the Grieving Therapist, but it left me feeling underwhelmed. If I’m mistaken, and Welcome to the Grief Club is for teens or young adults, great, but if it’s for adults, I don’t think it’s very effective. I found the tone, content, and style grating as someone who lost loved ones this year
[nonfiction, books on grief, therapeutic, written by two white marriage and family therapists and a non-white designer, respectively, shorter reads]

So Sorry for Your Loss: Learning to Live with Grief—Even If It Kills You by Dina Gachman (2023) Quick summary: Exploring what it means to process grief, with historical context, while bringing comfort to others.
This one, I loved. The title, the cover, the content. Gachman’s mom died of cancer, and just a couple of years later, her sister died of her addiction after many attempts at sobriety. Deeply, unfairly sad shit. Like most people beaten over the head by life, Gachman approaches the subject with humor, realism, and solid advice. This book also offers research, memoir, and other stories that anyone who has lost anyone (even a pet! especially a pet?) will find something in it. I want to hug Dina as she hugs me. Also, since I just sounded off on it—this book does not shy away from the death of a child.
[nonfiction, grief, therapeutic, written by a white american newspaper contributor, bestselling ghostwriter, and writer, medium-length read]

Quiet Street: On American Privilege by Nick McDonell (2023) | Quick summary: What experiences does a young white man, coming-of-age-, experience?
I almost threw this one into October’s letter just so I could talk about it more extensively. Nick McDonell is privileged privileged, and this is a short book where he outlines exactly that but in a way that isn’t gross or braggy. To me, a person who has experienced 100% the opposite of what McDonell has experienced, I found this to be a good outline of how the 1% lives, complete with proper execution. It almost feels like an insider’s guide; should I be reading this?
[nonfiction, cultural anthropology, written by a white american author, shorter read]

[Books I heard]

quietly hostile by Sam Irby (2023) | Quick summary: Irby’s latest collection of personal essays funny enough to make you laugh alone at your desk.
I’ll read everything Irby ever touches and laugh out loud all the while. This book was no exception, even with the gobs of potty humor I tend to stray away from.
[nonfiction, essays, semi-biographical, written by a Black american comedian, essayist, blogger, and television writer, medium-length listen, read by the author, shorter listen]

Yearbook by Seth Rogen (2021) | Quick summary: A collection of personal essays by Seth Rogen.
How did I end up listening to two different audiobooks that have a chapter about genres of porn? Following up Irby’s latest with Rogen’s essay collection meant I spent ample time in September listening to people describe various genres of porn. No regrets.
[nonfiction, personal essays written by a white jewish canadian actor, comedian, and filmmaker, shorter listen, read mostly by the author but also a lot of his family and friends, shorter listen]

Minor Feelings: An Asian American Reckoning by Cathy Park Hong (2020) | Quick summary: Memoir, cultural criticism, and history expose truths about racialized consciousness in America.
This is an ideal audiobook for me, and yet, I found myself wishing I’d physically read it with my eyes. Hong is brilliant, and Minor Feelings combines humor and introspection, which I found fascinating. The intricate dive into English, mental health, and friendship was one I found myself wishing I could underline and think deeper about it. Regardless, it was a solid listen; I might revisit it down the line in reading-book-form.
[nonfiction, asian-american studies, written by a korean-american writer and poet, read by the author, medium-length listen]

When Time Stopped: A Memoir of My Father's War and What Remains by Ariana Neumann (2020) | Quick summary: A memoir studying the secrets of a father’s past.
A decade after his death, Neumann discovers her father had been arrested and transported to Auschwitz, marked as deceased 18 days later. After his death, Neumann discovers the truth, what her father left her, and her family's true meaning and drive. It is a moving story perfectly aligned with big family secrets that tend to be revealed post-death.
[nonfiction, memoir jewish-american studies, written by a New York Times bestselling author, longer listen]

[What I recommend]

  • If you want a good grief book: So Sorry For Your Loss by Dina Gachman
  • If you want to laugh out loud: quietly hostile by Samantha Irby and Yearbook by Seth Rogen
  • If you want to hug your inner child: “The Janie Johnson Series” by Caroline B. Cooney

I’ll be on time next month and have read half this many books if that. Happy October, happy fall. Reminder that if the impending holidays make you want to throw up, consider dropping one. Not celebrating Thanksgiving anymore is slowly making me a less stressed person, with, hopefully, more time to read.

Subscribe, share, do other things. I love you.

completely booked is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.