Yesterday, I was browsing through the news, and on the top of the page, one of the headlines read that Sophie Kinsella, one of my favorite authors, died at age 55. Even though I knew about her cancer diagnosis from reading about her social media posts, it was still shocking. Death is just one of those things that is really hard to process, even if you know that the person was dealing with a terminal or serious illness and didn’t have much time left in this world. Sophie Kinsella was one of my favorite authors. She wrote this book called Confessions of a Shopaholic, which is about this young woman in England named Rebecca “Becky” Bloomwood who has a compulsive addiction to shopping. I have read all of the books in the Shopaholic series except for Christmas Shopaholic, which I checked out from the library weeks ago but haven’t even started yet. I am glad that I still have renewals on it because this holiday season, I really could use a big old hug from my fictional friend, Becky Bloomwood. Rest in Peace, Sophie, and thank you for all of the literature and laughs.
Category: books
What I Am Actually Thankful For
I am grateful for a lot of things in my life. My family, having a car, having a job, my friends, my Buddhist community, food, water and the list goes on. However, I also understand that for American Indian and First Nation peoples, Thanksgiving is a day of mourning, to remember all of the brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, mothers, fathers lost in the genocide that the white European settlers committed against American Indian folks. As someone who is not a member of the First Nations, I now use this day as a time for education and awareness. As a kid, I went along with the typical traditions and cultural brainwashing of Thanksgiving as this harmonious ceremony during which white settlers at Plymouth Rock coexisted with American Indian people.
And then, when I grew up and started reading more books and talking with actual American Indian classmates and people, I realized that perspective on history was incorrect. So, I had to educate myself and un-learn a lot of the white colonial bullshit that my elementary school teachers fed me, and I threw that pile of shit back into all of the shitty textbooks that taught me that Thanksgiving was this beautiful holiday. That shit stank, but the truth sometimes has to piss you off in order to set you free. As I grew older, I started reading more literature by First Nations authors such as Leslie Marmon Silko, Joy Harjo, Sherman Alexie and Tommy Orange. For an online book club that my college alma mater does, the moderator chose a novel called Five Little Indians by Michelle Good, a Cree Canadian author. The novel describes the traumatic history of residential schools in Canada and the impact and legacy that these schools has had on the Indigenous Canadian adults who survived its horrors as children. I don’t know much about Canadian history, unfortunately, but reading Five Little Indians gave me much needed insight into how fucked up the residential school system was. It also helped me understand that like the history of the United States of America, you cannot fully understand the history of Canada unless you learn about the countless atrocities that Indigenous men, women, children and non-binary peoples faced throughout the nation’s history. In this government-funded residential school system, many Indigenous children were abducted and separated from their families and placed into these residential schools in an attempt to erase Indigenous education and cultural traditions from Canadian history and assimilate Indigenous children into white Canadian society. There was a significant lack of resources, the staff abused children and white authorities at the schools punished Indigenous children for speaking their own languages. I watched a video to learn more about the history of these schools and when the survivors were describing to the reporter the abuse they experienced and witnessed, it really fucked me up, but I needed to get my mind fucked up because I needed to know how fucked up the residential school system was. I cannot begin to describe the horrors that the kids experienced at these schools. I will just say that reading that book, Five Little Indians by Michelle Good, will stick with me for a while.
One author I really love is Tommy Orange. He is an author from Oakland, California who is an enrolled member of the Cheyenne and Arapaho Tribes of Oklahoma. I really love his writing and recommend his novels There There and Wandering Stars. Movies-wise, I recommend Killers of the Flower Moon and Fancy Dance on Apple TV. Fancy Dance is a movie directed by Native American filmmaker Erica Tremblay, and it is about a young queer Cayuga woman named Jax who investigates the disappearance of her sister, Tawi, while caring for Tawi’s daughter, Roki. I didn’t know much about the history of missing and murdered Native American people before watching this movie, but watching Fancy Dance made me want to learn more about the history of missing and murdered Indigenous peoples. Even though I really loved Killers of the Flower Moon and thought Lily Gladstone was fucking incredible in their role as Mollie Burkhart (Lily Gladstone goes by she/her and they/them pronouns), I really loved that in Fancy Dance Gladstone got to play the main character in the movie and also that their character, like Lily Gladstone in real life, is part of the LGBTQ+ community.
My Love of Reading
As a kid my mom took me to the library a lot growing up. I have always enjoyed libraries since I was young. The feel of a physical book, the smell of those crisp pages, the way the sentences formed in curls of black ink on the pages. Reading was a magical experience for me growing up, and books have always been great companions. There is a really awesome chapter in this book I love called Discussions on Youth by Daisaku Ikeda and in this chapter he talks about developing a love of reading in his youth and why it’s so important to get into the habit of reading. In high school I remember reading a lot especially. It was just so awesome to just go home and just read my book. I took a world geography class and I decided to read more literatures by writers from around the world, such as Isabel Allende, Giles Foden, and many other authors. Reading these books exposed me to so many new worlds and new ways of thinking, and experiences. It helped me find solace when I felt so lost and uncertain in the ups and downs of society. I think that’s why I have fond memories of ninth grade because I read books all the time and it was just so relaxing. I remember I had a friend from middle school who loved to read just as much as I did, and we would have our conversations but then we would sit afterwards and read our books in silence. It was very peaceful much of the time. In sophomore year, I started to somehow become ashamed of my love of books. I thought it was the reason I didn’t have any friends, but looking back, 30 year old me would have just said, “Look, it’s high school, it’s hormones. Not every scowl you encounter in the hallway is about you or the purple jeans and the Murkmere book you were carrying with you down the hall.” And to be honest, I had fellow friends who loved reading like me. I had one friend who loved Twilight and she and I would bond over Twilight together, and I went over to her birthday party and everyone was just as much a nerd as I was, and we watched New Moon and ate puppy chow together on her couch and made all sorts of commentaries throughout the movie. I always enjoy reading the book before seeing the movie, because then you can compare how well the movie stayed true to the book. I remember not being a fan of the film adaptation of The Nanny Diaries for some reason. I think just because the ending was different in the movie from the book. Mrs. X wasn’t nice even well at the end of the book, but in the movie she becomes a nice person to the nanny.
When I was younger one of my favorite memories was going to the bookstore and ordering hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows and chilling out in the kids section with a book. It was a magical experience and I love holiday breaks because then I get to read a lot. In college, winter and summer breaks were something I looked forward to a lot because I got to read for fun, which I didn’t have much time to do during the school year because I was juggling extracurriculars on top of studying and adjusting to a new environment. I remember devouring books like The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami, books about Buddhism, and so many other books. The summer before ninth grade, I remember reading a few books. I don’t know how I was able to squeeze in so much time to read because I spent about eighty percent of my summer watching MTV, knitting and eating waffles. When I was working at Starbucks, I always looked forward to my lunch breaks because then I could read for fun. I remember one of the books I read was called The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon, and I think after that I became hooked on his writing. So then I went and read The Yiddish Policeman’s Union because I think I saw my math teacher was reading it one time, and I got curious about it, and later on Telegraph Avenue and Moonglow. I think in general reading is one of those activities I need to slow down and not rush through, because I have rushed through books before but then I forget the plot. If you asked me, Can you remember the plot of this book or that book that I read in high school, I wouldn’t be able to tell you because most of those books I read quickly, so I often forgot the plot. I think it was hard especially to rush through any of Michael Chabon’s books because not only is his writing good, but also he uses a lot of big words, so I had to often write down on a piece of paper the vocabulary words I wanted to look up as I read the book. Spoiler alert: every time I did this–write down all the vocabulary words and then finally look them up–I almost never looked up the words. Or maybe looked up a handful. But I would always end up throwing the list of words I needed to look up in the trash because I was just collecting little strips of paper at that point, and it was starting to clutter my living space.
I remember taking a class in my junior year called Literatures of the African Diaspora, and I would just rush through the books we were reading: NW by Zadie Smith, Open City by Teju Cole, Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. The only book I can vividly remember I didn’t speed through was Small Island by Andrea Levy. If you haven’t read it, it is a must. While I haven’t watched the entire series, the little clip I did see was really good. It takes place in England during World War II, and it is about Jamaican immigrants navigating life in England. Hortense and Gilbert are a Jamaican couple navigating life in England and living in a racist society. Queenie is waiting until her husband comes back from war, and while he is away she falls in love with a Jamaican serviceman and has a child with him. Her relationship with Hortense and Gilbert is complicated, and even though she seems to be supportive of Black people she is really not that progressive and still looks down on and treats Hortense especially very poorly. I remember developing so much ire towards Queenie throughout the novel, and it got to the point where during my presentation on the book I just wouldn’t shut up about how much I loathed Queenie’s character. My poor classmates, bless their hearts, listened calmly to my rants. I love them forever. I still have yet to read NW to be honest. I seriously thought I had read it but I was confusing it with another book she wrote called On Beauty. This time when I read NW, I am not going to speed through it. I am going to savor every word, every plot point, every character’s struggle. I am going to fully immerse myself in the book, not just speed through it like I did when I took that class. I mean, I know I was pressed for time and had other assignments, but I could have at least given myself the pleasure of enjoying the book rather than feeling like I had to mark up every little sentence, every little plot point, every little syntax and detail. I remember during my senior year of high school this girl I sat with always bugged me about making too many annotations in the books I was reading for fun. I wanted to tackle the classics, so I read Jane Eyre and other books. I would dissect each book as if it was a frog during science class, and to be honest reading had become something I wasn’t doing for fun but rather to impress my peers with “Look at how many Bic highlighters I can wear out while reading this 400 page tome.” This well-meaning girl told me to first read the book and then mark it up later. To be honest, this was great advice. I absorbed a lot more when I wasn’t so busy critiquing every little thing that Charlotte Bronte was trying to get at with Jane’s character. Of course, taking notes is helpful, especially if you read a big ass book like War and Peace. Now that’s a freaking tome right there. But I’m learning that it’s also okay to just read the book. I will say, though, I still have a pocket dictionary to look up those big words and I still find it helpful.
Book List
This is a list of some books I have read.
- Confessions of a Shopaholic: Sophie Kinsella
- Speak: Laurie Halse Anderson
- Miracle at St. Anna: James McBride
- Bad Feminist: Roxane Gay
- The Book of Delights: Ross Gay
- The Other Americans: Leila Lalami
- Me, Earl and the Dying Girl: Jesse Andrews
- The Nanny Diaries: Emma McLaughlin and Nicola Krauss
- The Harry Potter series
- Native Son: Richard Wright
- Black Boy: Richard Wright
- The Fire Next Time: James Baldwin
- The Fire This Time: Jesmyn Ward
- The Last King of Scotland: Giles Foden
- Tess of the D’Urbervilles: Thomas Hardy
- Germinal: Emile Zola
- I Have the Right To: Chessy Prout and Jenn Abelson
- The Life Changing Magic of Not Giving a F*ck: Sarah Knight
- Americanah: Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
- Into the Woods: Tana French
- The Book of Form and Emptiness: Ruth Ozeki
- You Do You: Sarah Knight
- Get Your Sh*t Together: Sarah Knight
- Originals: Adam Grant
- Big Magic: Elizabeth Gilbert
- The Septembers of Shiraz: Dalia Sofer
- Midnight’s Children: Salman Rushdie
- Everything is Illuminated: Jonathan Safran Foer
- Discussions on Youth: Daisaku Ikeda
- The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo: Stieg Larsson
- The Girl with the Lower Back Tattoo: Amy Schumer
- Yes Please: Amy Poehler
- Bossypants: Tina Fey
- So Close to Being the Sh*t, Y’all Don’t Even Know: Retta
- Please Don’t Sit on My Bed in Your Outside Clothes: Essays: Phoebe Robinson
- It Could Be Worse, You Could Be Me: Ariel Levy
- Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can’t Stop Talking: Susan Cain
- Daring Greatly: Brene Brown
- Atlas of the Heart: Brene Brown
- A Fine Balance: Rohinton Mistry
- Swing Time: Zadie Smith
- Caucasia: Danzy Senna
- Caramelo: Sandra Cisneros
- Rose Gold: Walter Mosley
- Pageboy: Elliot Page
- About a Boy: Nick Hornby
- Trainspotting: Irvine Welsh
- Atonement: Ian McEwan
- The Little Friend: Donna Tartt
- Gone Girl: Gillian Flynn
Something fun I did yesterday: reading for fun
“All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.”
(I have no idea why the text in this paragraph is so frigging tiny. It just happened. Hopefully you can still read it.)
Yesterday what I did for fun was read a book for pleasure. I usually try to make time to read for fun, especially since I spend a lot of time at home. Even when I get busy, I want to make sure I reserve some time to read for fun. When I was working as a barista, I often found myself feeling exhausted after work shifts and when I would get home I would collapse on my bed and crack open my novel and just read. Immediately the stress would leave my body and I would feel better. Even if I have a successful music career I want to be able to make time to read for fun. Not only do I love recommending books to people, but also reading helps me understand what it means to be a human in the world. No one is free from problems, and so whenever I read about a character dealing with some problem I feel I can empathize with them some way even if I can’t directly relate to the problem or haven’t gone through the suffering the character has. I mostly read fiction but lately I have been incorporating nonfiction.
Yesterday I started reading Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear by Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat Pray Love. In the book she talks about the ups and downs of being a writer and what it takes to navigate those ups and downs. I’m really glad I read this book because it helped me put success in a healthier perspective. Gilbert talks about how you don’t need to quit your day job to pursue your art or craft, and debunks the Tortured Artist stereotype. I love how she touched on the latter because I have struggled with perfectionism in my cello practice sessions and it made it hard for me to take feedback well because I thought every mistake I made while playing was a failure, and so when my teachers would give me feedback I would resort to all-or-nothing thinking, such as “They think my playing is bad” or “I’m not cut out to be a musician.” It got to the point when I would be so fearful of making a mistake that I would play small when the passage called for a more expressive feeling or needed to be loud. I think I remember when I was in my senior year of high school and we were rehearsing this piece by composer Jean Sibelius called Finlandia, and there is a part where the cellos play fff, which is the loudest sound you can produce on the cello (basically it’s forte on steroids.) I took this marking quite literally and pressed so hard on the bow and the minute I ground the bow across the string, I heard a snap and saw that all the bow hair had snapped off of my bow because I pressed so hard. I can’t remember whether I had an extra bow in my cello case or not. All I can remember was freaking out internally, wondering how I would live down this embarrassment in the middle of a rehearsal, especially because the concert was the next day and we didn’t have long to rehearse the music. I don’t remember whether the bow ever got repaired or not, but I ended up getting a new bow in time for the concert but being more careful to not press too hard on the string. I think this event stayed so embedded in my conscience that throughout college I kept thinking if I played fortissimo or even forte I would relive that same bow-hair-snapping nightmare I lived through that fated rehearsal night. My teachers always had to tell me to play louder and I wouldn’t listen to them because I was always fearful of breaking my bow.
But I digress from the subject at hand. But yes, yesterday I read for fun and it was amazing. I also read Please Don’t Sit On My Bed In Your Outside Clothes by Phoebe Robinson this week and it was also a really good book. I haven’t listened to the 2 Dope Queens podcast yet and this is my first time reading one of Phoebe’s books but I love her writing! And I love all of the cultural references she makes; I found myself rolling around in laughter until my ribs hurt, but she also discusses serious topics as well that really made me sit and reflect, such as the social stigma around 4C hairstyles and the topic of hair in the Black community, as well as the challenges of quarantining in 2020 and the trauma of George Floyd’s murder. It kind of reminded me of another book I read by a comedian and actress named Retta from Parks and Recreation; I read her memoir So Close to Being the Sh*t Y’all Don’t Even Know, and like with Phoebe’s book it tickled my ribs but also was so real and raw and beautiful. As someone with an aspiring creative career, both of these books encouraged me to keep making art and living my life.
Wishing everyone a happy holiday season!