Radio Silence Doesn't Mean I'm Not Reading

What probably should be my retirement years haven't turned out to be just that. After one semester off about ten years ago, I've been back as an adjunct ever since. Teaching has never gotten in the way of reading, but combined with other ventures, I've neglected to report on my reading. 

This summer (academic summer, that is; I know real summer doesn't start until June), my reading list covers has run the gamut. I read three pop rom coms in a row. Go figure. I started with The Wedding People by Alison Espach because it was getting a lot of press. It was clever, and the idea of an adjunct ditching her classes and heading off to a tropical vacation--even if it is with suicidal intents--drew me in. Living in Nashville, the bachelorette capital of the US, I also enjoyed some of the humor from an outsider's perspective. 

I also read Rufi Thorpe's Margo's Got Money Troubles, and I didn't find a personal way in. I did finish reading, which I don't always do these days. Then a friend I trust recommended Colton Gentry's Third Act by Jeff Zentner, the story of a B-tier country artist who gets cancelled for an alcohol-fueled rant about gun control, after losing a close friend at a concert shooting. Of the three, this would be the best for a book club because (a. there is SO much food talk, since he ends up looking the restaurant business. If your book club is like mine, a food link makes for a fun evening; and (b. there were some really clever lines--the ones that make me stop and open my notes app.

I also read Jean Hanff Korelitz's novel The Plot, and I will seek out the sequel, aptly entitled The Sequel. For anyone who's read Yellowface, this plot might ring a bit familiar. 

I've read two Liz Moore novels recently. I started with God of the Woods, which has been fun to pass along, followed by The Unseen World, which would make a good companion reading with Richard Power's Playground. While I was "in the woods," I read Heartwood by Amity Gaige, another newer release, set in the northern segment of the Appalachian Trail, when a forty-something woman goes missing. The multiple perspectives are well-done, but making it less a whodunnit than a how's it gonna turn out. Warning to Southern purists: If you listen to the audiobook, the narrator (mis)pronounces Appalachian as Appalaychian instead of Appalatchian. 

Those titles are just a few from my recent reading list, but what brought me back here, wanting to share was a book someone--and I can't remember who--recommended on Facebook: How Donating a Kidney Fixed My Jumpsuit by Jim Sollisch. 

Not infrequently, I am stopping mid-book to tell other reading friends, "You've got to read this one." This is one of those books, but it also makes me want to get out my notebook or open a new document on my laptop and start writing my stories. Sollisch is in the advertising business but has written and published short essays, particularly in newspapers, for several years. Most of these are under three pages. He manages to tell his story, reminding readers just how universal some of those stories really are. It's a book that makes me want to read out loud. I already see so many ways I want to incorporate this book into my freshman composition course when fall semester rolls around. 

Which do I love more--a book that makes me want to read, one that makes me want to write, or one that opens up great book conversations? Maybe all three.

Radio Silence Doesn't Mean I'm Not Reading