All Booked Up

For most of us, 2020 will not go down in history as one of the best years of our lives. But it did have its high points, and for me, some of its high points were the books I read. Aphorist Mason Cooley once said, “Reading gives us someplace to go when we have to stay where we are.” That has never been truer for me and, probably, for many of you, than it was in 2020. For most of the year, I stayed where I was. But reading gave me endless places to go. These are the books that took me to the best places in 2020.

“Firestarter” by Stephen King.  This was the first book I read in 2020, and it blew me away. King’s books always hook me on the first page and keep me hooked until the end. “Firestarter” was no exception. I can’t say much about the plot without giving it away. I’ll just say that at its core, the book is about the relationship between a father and daughter who have to fight to be together. There’s also a clear message in the book about understanding the potential of the gifts you’ve been given: if you can harness the power of your gifts, you can turn potential into purpose.

“Their Eyes Were Watching God” by Zora Neale Hurston.  A family member recommended this book to me. After I read it, I told her what I’ll tell you—I’m shocked that I managed to graduate from college with a degree in Literature without having read this book. It belongs right up there with all the other great novels that are in the American canon of literature. Set in the south in the early years of the twentieth century, the book is both educational and enlightening without trying to be either. It’s simply the story of Janie, a woman on a journey of love, loss, pain, and survival. I read this book while I was recovering from back surgery, and my pain faded as I read—partly because I escaped into the story, but mostly because reading about Janie’s journey made my own suffering pale in comparison to hers. Though Janie does experience great suffering, she also experiences great love, making the book, at its heart, a love story. And that love story, along with the resiliency and determination of Janie, will stay with me.

“Open Book” by Jessica Simpson.  For me, celebrity tell-alls are perhaps the most delicious kind of mind candy. I’m obsessively curious about celebrities—I want to know every detail of their behind-the-scenes lives. Amazon knows this about me, so they always alert me when a new celebrity tell-all comes out. Last winter, they alerted me to a book by popstar-turned-fashion-mogul Jessica Simpson. So I read it. And it surprised me. It wasn’t mindless fluff or silly anecdotes (not that I have a problem with those.) It was encouraging, inspiring, and relatable. There were aspects of Simpson’s life that paralleled mine, especially her walk with God and her battle with substance abuse. At the time I read her book, I was too sick to go to my recovery meetings. Reading about the choices Simpson made in recovery was like spending time with one of the sober friends I’d been missing—I was encouraged to continue on my journey as I read about hers. I also related to her passion for music and how she knew it was her purpose as far back as she could remember. I’ve always felt that same passion and purpose for writing. And at this point in my life, I wholeheartedly agree with her words: “It’s about my voice; it’s about my heart and it’s about being open.”

“Dandelion Wine” by Ray Bradbury.  I saw this book last June on a list of “summer must-reads.” I loved Bradbury’s “Something Wicked This Way Comes,” so I had high hopes for “Dandelion Wine.” And it didn’t disappoint. To me, it’s an ode to the best summers of childhood. It’s the story of Doug and Tom, two young brothers who experience “the time of freedom and living” during the summer of 1928. Bradbury’s writing would have been reason enough for me to love the book, but the relationship between Doug and Tom was the clincher for me. The way they interacted and spent their days reminded me of the way my brother Adam and I spent our summer days. We started the day with dew on our bare feet and ended it with Band-Aids on our stubbed toes. We felt like Doug and Tom did—that the summer belonged to the two of us, and we had only to get out there and live every minute of it to make it last as long as it could. This conversation between Doug and Tom could have been a conversation between Adam and me—it captures their relationship and ours:

“Tom,” said Douglas, “Just promise me one thing, okay?”

“It’s a promise. What?”

“You may be my brother and maybe I hate you sometimes, but stick around, all right?”

“You mean you’ll let me follow you and the older guys when you go on hikes?”

“Well . . . sure . . . even that. What I mean is, don’t go away, huh? Don’t let any cars run over you or fall off a cliff.”

“East of Eden” by John Steinbeck.  I discovered Steinbeck when I was about twelve years old. I fell in love with his style of writing—his careful and deliberate word choices and the variances in his sentence structures were early writing teachers to me. But I didn’t read “East of Eden” until last summer. And, to borrow a phrase from my mom, it blew my socks off. Steinbeck instantly hooked me with his lyrical, almost poetic description of the Salinas Valley in California—a location so integral to the novel that it becomes another character. All of the characters were so true-to-life and interesting that I got completely caught up in their lives and thought about them even when I wasn’t reading. Every single character has an interesting storyline—there aren’t any outliers that bored me, which is what usually happens with a book that has this many characters. The story is brilliantly told, as Steinbeck weaves together the lives of two different families in an epic tale of love, hate, and the making and breaking of generational curses. I was enraptured by the book, from start to finish, and was truly sorry when it was over—though for me, it isn’t over, as the characters have taken up permanent residence in my head. Especially Samuel. If you know, you know. And if you don’t, you should read the book just to meet him.

“The Anne of Green Gables Devotional” by Rachel Dodge.  “Anne of Green Gables” has long had a significant, sentimental place in my heart—my mom read it out loud to us as a family when I was a little girl. Since then, it has become comfort food for my soul, especially because I still hear its words in Mom’s voice. I reread it whenever I’m in need of a reunion with Anne and her joys and sorrows, or a reunion with all of the versions of myself who have loved her. So when Mom gave me this devotional as a gift, I couldn’t wait to read it. All forty of the daily readings retell incidents in Anne’s life, then put them into a spiritual context with a Biblical takeaway. The readings use the simple words of “Anne” to gently reinforce profound spiritual truths. I love that I now have a spiritual frame of reference for my beloved “Anne.”

“Vintage Notions” by Amy Barickman.  This is a gorgeously styled coffee table book featuring the work of Mary Brooks Picken. Picken founded the Woman’s Institute of Domestic Arts and Sciences in 1916 with the mission of using in-class instruction and correspondence courses to educate women on the domestic arts. From 1916 to 1934, the Woman’s Institute published a newsletter where Picken shared her thoughts on subjects ranging from dressmaking to cooking, encouraging her readers to see that domestic duties could be elevated to art if they were done in a creative, inspired way. The newsletters and reader responses are beautifully showcased in this book, using history, memorable quotes, and pictures of recipes, crafts, and needlework. As I read the book, I was reminded of how vitally important creativity and beauty are to my daily life. My grandma taught me the art of hand embroidery when I was a little girl, and it has been a soothing constant for me over the years. When I sew, I feel a thread of continuity between my grandma and me. That thread grew, through the reading of this book, to include all the other women along the way who chose to add beauty to their lives through the domestic arts. About those arts, Picken wrote, “No matter what our environment, no matter what our circumstances—a singing tea kettle, a cozy fire, someone to care for, someone to care, a conscience that does not disturb—all these help in our walk up the steps to divine contentment.”

Also on those steps to contentment? Books. Reading them and sharing them. If you have any book recommendations from your literary journey through 2020, I’d love for you to share them with me and the other readers here. I wish you the happiest of reading in the year to come.