A Reformed Reader's Reading List

Welcome to my book stack of shame (sort of)

Two quick notes: This letter contains affiliate links, which means I may earn a (very small) commission for any items purchased through them. Also, it’s a long one, so if you’re reading via email, you may need to open it in a browser to view the full list!

Hello, and happy Wednesday! Before I dive into today’s letter, some quick links to share:

• If you own white sneakers, don’t sleep on these sneaker laundry bags. They were a very happy surprise! After a single wash, two pairs of dirt-stained shoes looked good as almost-new, with their shape perfectly maintained.

• YouTube served me this mesmerizing painting video when it (correctly) assumed my brain needed to relax. It’s Bob Ross for the digital age.

• Hardly quick, but if you’re a media nerd, don’t miss New York magazine’s unbelievable deep dive into the state of media and journalism.

Now, onto today’s topic: the (semi-mortifying?) list of books I want to read.

This is a vague statement that masks an embarrassing truth: between early 2020 and the end of 2023, I read five novels.¹

Allow the former bookworm version of me to say: Yikes.

My non-reader origin story began in the spring of 2020, when amidst pandemic and pregnancy and home renovation and generally losing my mind, I stopped reading. Or, more accurately, I stopped reading fiction. Receipts prove that I did buy seven pregnancy and parenting books. (What can I say? The Parenting Industrial Complex got me.)

But at the time—and for a long time after—I just couldn’t sit with a novel.

Now, let’s be clear about my “shame,” which I know is low stakes, and yes, even silly. The literary world is near-infinite. There are only so many hours in the day. And we each have books we want to read but haven’t (and never do).

In my brain—which is hard on me in the best of times—this went beyond all that. Was the enjoyment of reading inversely proportional to one’s parental anxiety levels? Was my waning bookworm-iness a bellweather of an identity in flux; of a rapidly changing life over which I foolishly imagined control? Was this all Instagram’s fault?

I couldn’t figure it out.

Fast forward to last year. My spiral, like most things in life, was just a phase. Still, my ongoing inability to pick up a book meant I was in a deep, multi-year rut. I felt bad about not reading. Then, because I wasn’t reading, I kept not reading.

I believe this is called digging yourself deeper into the hole.

The book that lowered the ladder so I could climb up and out was Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, which I read in early 2023. Since then, I’ve slowly gotten back to reading, albeit at a slower pace than I used to, but—there’s progress. Earlier this summer I read The Vanishing Half, and then God of the Woods right after. I have a backlist intermezzo before I can entertain the thought of Intermezzo, and I accept it!

So, what follows below is my personal fall and winter and—let’s be honest—spring reading list, but also a reflection to say that if you are beating yourself up with Why can’t I and What’s wrong with me, the answer is nothing and stay patient and you’re okay, ride this out. Not reading seems like a silly thing to worry about, but it felt like it was indicative of some deeper flaw I’d uncovered. Or like amidst the vast, unknowable ocean that is early parenthood, I’d lost myself at sea.

But in the end, the tides shifted, and when I came up for air and made my way back to the shore, there were the books, dotted along the sand. Little trails of pastel pink seashells, waiting for me to pick up and relish, all this time.

Here, a list of the books haunting awaiting me on my desk, my nightstand, and my library’s digital “for later” shelf:

FICTION

The Leavers, 2017 | I can’t wait for this older title about “borders and belonging.” It’s a transracial adoption story of lost culture and family and grief, and I’m curious to see how it handles the perspectives of adoptee and birth parent given the high praise it received.

Motherhood, 2018 | I picked this up on the sale table outside Browser Books in San Francisco. It reads like a memoir, but isn’t, and as ever, I couldn’t resist a book that plays with form. The author wrote vast chunks of prose by writing yes/no questions and literally flipping a coin to answer herself!

Such A Fun Age, 2019 | Did your book club read this? It came out just before my book club disbanded (#pandemic), so we never got to it, and it’s still on my list!

Fleishman is in Trouble, 2019 | Progress in action! I checked this out from the library after finishing Long Island Compromise earlier this summer, and I’m nearly done. My so-far take is that I enjoyed LIC more, though all signs point to a great third act with Rachel’s big reveal.

If I Had Your Face, 2020 | This is one of the novels I attempted to read in 2020, and just couldn’t focus on it. I’ve refused to give away my copy, knowing I’ll get to it one day!

Hamnet, 2020 | I added this to my list after I read (and really enjoyed!) The Marriage Portrait. I’m typically a sucker for historical fiction, and have no doubt Maggie O’Farrell’s world-building is brilliant here.

Crossroads, 2021 | This one has been on my “to check out” list from the library. A multi-perspective novel about a family in 1971 at a, well, crossroads promises deep character study that I can’t wait to sink my teeth into.

Demon Copperhead, 2022 | Are you screaming? You’re screaming. I feel like everyone has read (and loved) this 2023 Pulitzer winner, and gotta say, it’s one of the titles I’m most looking forward to reading.

Tom Lake, 2023 | This one is technically a “half-done.” I nabbed a copy from the library when it debuted last year, but had to return it before I could finish (see: slow reader). I never circled back, but this is me promising I’ll finish what I started.

Yellowface, 2023 | That striking yellow cover was hard to miss last year, along with all the love for this satirical thriller about appropriation, access, and stolen ideas (and identities).

All Fours, 2024 | Currently in my desk stack. This is so recent I can’t even classify it as a “book I missed,” but including it because I’m excited to read it this winter after so many rave reviews! This feels like a novel for my fortieth year.

MEMOIR

Crying in H-Mart, 2021 | Ok, I will admit: I’m a teensy embarrassed about this one, not least because I got a free copy of it from the library over the summer when they were giving away back stock…because after years of high demand, they had too many copies in circulation.

I Would Meet You Anywhere, 2023 | I learned about Susan Ito’s memoir via a picture book workshop last year, and of course ordered it right away. I’m so thrilled that more and more adoptee stories are hitting the market!

Be Ready When the Luck Happens, 2024 | I had big aspirations of reading my copy of Ina Garten’s new memoir before I see her speak in SF next Monday, but I don’t think it’s going to happen. Luckily, the press tour has been so insane (and having watched Ina’s show since 2004), I feel pseudo caught up here. My fun Ina fact is many years ago, I worked at a Sur La Table and sold her copper cookie cutters. She bought one in the shape of the Eiffel Tower.

Poetry

And Yet, 2022 and Time is a Mother, 2022 | More progress! Both in my possession! Both have made it into my tote bag, for perusal on the go! Both have made me gasp aloud! The poems just hit.

Non-Fiction

The Making of Asian America, 2015 | An adoptee friend was reading this circa 2021 and I bought my own copy when she declared it a fascinating history. It’s a bit of a tome, so I need to dive into it at a point where I’m off fiction and want something historical and meaty to learn from.

To Save the Children of Korea, 2015 | Ditto this one. This, the above, and the final book in this section are pretty specific to me, my work, my history, and interests—clearly doing some supplemental reading on adoption history, past and present.

Like Streams to the Ocean, 2021 | I remember the first essay I ever read from Jedidiah Jenkins, and he’s been a favorite author-follow on Instagram ever since. I read about a third of this essay collection before Joe stole it from me, and never managed to finish. (PS, I cannot wait to hear from him in December after his current offline/analog experiment.)

Essays Two, 2021 | I snapped this up on mega sale outside Browser Books on Fillmore in 2022, where I stood reading part of Lydia Davis’s essay “Twenty-One Pleasures of Translating” for at least twenty-one minutes. Something about the topic reminded me of Lauren Collins When in French, so I bought it, but never restarted. But from what I remember, the writing is so good!

Relinquished: The Politics of Adoption and the Privilege of American Motherhood, 2024 | A friend recently put author Dr. Gretchen Sisson’s book on my radar. She’s a sociologist at UCSF who’s written another well-researched addition to the list of books changing adoption narratives, and like The Girls Who Went Away and American Baby before it, I can’t wait to read this.

Your Turn!

So that’s it—a BIG stack that should easily take me through fall and winter and probably beyond.

Dare I ask: anything I’m missing from circa 2019-2023 that is a must-read? Anything on my backlist you read and loved and want to rave about? Didn’t love? Share it below!

Bonus Round: Picture Books I Love

I read a lot of picture books these days. Here are a few (of many!) that I completely adore. If you’re a parent to an early reader, or looking for a gift for a kiddo in your life, bookmark these—they are the creme de la creme of the form:

Du Iz Tak? | Some beautifully drawn bugs speak in a completely made up language and build a fort atop a flower over the course of a summer. The art is great. The book is so weird and wonderful and god bless the editor who went for it.

A Terrible Place for a Nest | A little boy and his mom move to a new place, and in his struggle to adapt and feel at home, he notices mourning doves with the same problem. It’s a perfect, emotional picture book, and I may have even cried at the end.

I Eat Poop: A Dung Beetle Story | The glow up story of a dung beetle, who risks his newfound popularity for the sake of an old friend, and more importantly, to reveal who he really is: a bug who loves poop.

Farmhouse | OMG, just the most beautiful. Sophie Blackall is the best. This is a true story inspired by a derelict farmhouse she found on the upstate NY property she purchased a number of years ago. She salvaged fabrics and ephemera from the site, then incorporated them in the book’s art, which tells the history of the farmhouse and the real family who lived there.

Hot Dog | A forever favorite, this sparsely written book features the story of a woman and her dachshund and their impromptu escape from a too-hot day in New York City. (Read it and you’ll understand: “THAT’S IT!” is a regular inside joke in my house.)

On the Other Side of the Forest | Translated PBs have been popular recently, and this one, from French, made me laugh out loud. It’s a true old-school story book, with a vintage, Beatrix Potter-vibe to its art, and an ending you won’t see coming.

1. Reviewing my book purchase and borrowing history, here is the official Jan 2020-Dec 2023 count. Oof.

• Novels: 5

• Pregnancy and parenting books: 7

• Memoirs: 2.5

• Other non-fiction: 2