My project for the year — to read books with covers of a different color each month — has started in earnest, which you'll see reflected above! (January was white, February is gray.) I've read a lot of fantastic books so far this year; here's everything I've read in the past month.
Invisible Women: Data Bias in a World Designed for Men by Caroline Criado Pérez: I appreciate what Pérez was attempting to do with this book, and she does it thoroughly: This is an unrelenting collection of the many, many ways that the assumption of the "default male" has caused harm, from the medical field to city planning to the design of uniforms and tools. Unfortunately, I also found a lot to critique about her method of laying out the issues, and the limited scope of her suggestions for fixing them, so I am hesitant to recommend this to anyone.
Ask Me About Polyamory: The Best of Kimchi Cuddles by Tikva Wolf: This was a fairly quick read, a collection of comic strips about polyamory from a webcomic I wasn't previously familiar with. It was a bit of a mixed bag for me. I would hesitate to hand this to someone as a Polyamory 101 (which is what I expected from the title), but I think most of it is great for those who are polyamorous and will understand what's heartfelt and what's a joke, even if a few of the strips didn't land for me.
Symptoms of Being Human by Jeff Garvin: This got worse as it went on. It suffered from two big issues: being a paint-by-numbers young adult book, complete with tropes and stereotypes, and being an example of someone writing about an identity they don't have and doing a terrible job of it. I've seen this book recommended frequently for the past decade, but I'm hoping by now there are some better options out there with genderfluid main characters.
Blood, Marriage, Wine, & Glitter by S. Bear Bergman: This was a phenomenal essay collection that found me at the right time. Bergman was able to take so many things that exist in my mind and heart and put them into concise, clear language while telling stories from his own life. If you're not queer, trans, or polyamorous, you may not resonate as much with this book — or, at least, it will be a window and not a mirror — but I found the way that Bergman approaches his relationships to be incredibly validating and encouraging.
Joyful: The Surprising Power of Ordinary Things to Create Extraordinary Happiness by Ingrid Fetell Lee: I was impressed by Lee's ability to take something so abstract (joy) and tie to concrete elements — color, light, shape, lightness, and so on — that tend to generate this feeling in humans. I wish I'd known going in that Lee is a designer, so when she takes each concept and shows how it can apply in practice, it's largely focused on architecture and interior design, and best suited to those without young kids and with money to burn.
The Turnaway Study: Ten Years, a Thousand Women, and the Consequences of Having—or Being Denied—an Abortion by Diana Greene Foster: This was my Best of the Bunch in January. The study design is brilliant, the book is very readable, the author didn't cherry-pick her findings, and she was very clear on what she was and was not trying to accomplish. I would highly recommend this book for all adults, but especially those who live in places like the United States where abortion is highly contested and policies are inconsistent across time and place.
Unwind by Neal Shusterman: This was an unintentional pairing with The Turnaway Study. I felt like Shusterman did a tighter job of world-building in this one compared to Scythe, and the plot was propulsive without feeling rushed. I appreciate that Shusterman did not — as far as I can tell — write this with a heavy-handed agenda. Instead, he's poking at all the complex, nuanced elements of the abortion debate through a fresh lens.
It's OK That You're Not OK by Megan Devine: I could have used this book a while back, but I'm still incredibly grateful for it now. Devine has written a reflection of what grief is actually like, especially "early" grief (which has no timeline), without the rush to try to make the pain better or part of a greater story of meaning or growth. There's so much that's helpful here, from practical tips and validation to a chapter that's specifically for giving to the people who truly want to support you but don't know how. I'd recommend this to anyone who's experienced loss and grief, whether recently or long ago.
Another Brooklyn by Jacqueline Woodson: While this was longer than a short story, it had some of the same qualities that leave me wanting with most short stories. The language is poetic, capturing the experiences of loving and losing, of betrayal, of denial. It was well sketched and felt realistic, but I never got emotionally invested enough for any plot point to pack a punch.
Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik: This was so much better than I expected going in. The plot twists and turns in unexpected ways so that it's not always clear who or what to root for, so unlike a book where there's an inevitable happy ending, it's not clear for good chunks of the book what a happy ending would actually be. The plot had my favorite kind of reveals, the ones you didn't see coming but which make perfect sense in retrospect. Overall, this was excellent and worth the investment of time.
Looking back:
One year ago I was reading: Usborne Fifth Book of Puzzle Adventures, Lessons in Chemistry, and The Penderwicks in Spring
Five years ago I was reading: Do Better, The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet, and Mr. Popper's Penguins
Ten years ago I was reading: More Happy Than Not, The Left Hand of Darkness, The Girl on the Train, and Song Yet Sung
