Showing posts with label monthly roundup. Show all posts
Showing posts with label monthly roundup. Show all posts

Saturday, August 1, 2026

JULY 2026 IN REVIEW & August 2026 is #WITMonth

Amplifying voices: celebrating women in translation month | ProZ.com, via LinkedIn
JULY IN REVIEW

A month of wonders was had by all. Forty-one reviews written, fifty-three DRCs received; twenty-three of those reviewed in their publication month. That's 43%! Could not be happier with that. Of the remaining eighteen reviews, one was a five-star review of a 2020 novel from New Vessel Press: The Piano Student by Lea Singer, translated from German by Elisabeth Lauffer. I five-starred Beginning Middle End by Valeria Luiselli, and all but five-starred Ada by Mark Haber; Unsayable: A Life in Writing by Michael Cunningham; The Sixth Nik by Pulitzer-winner Daniel Kraus; Event Horizon by [[Balsam Karam]]; and shockingly Grief Eater, lesbian zombie story by [[Emma Osborne]].

What a month! That's better than some years (notably 2018, only 65 reviews blogged the whole year)! While there were disappointments, they weren't Biblical disasters like The Dove and the Dragon: A Cultural History of the Apocalypse. *shudder*

On to August, with a high heart and a happy soul. Women in Translation Month is an August staple on my blog. Entries start in 2014. I'm always delighted to tell all y'all about this twelve-year tradition of shouting out the incredibly broad and wildly varied works by, about, and translated from every language and country I can think of, by women. Working in multiple languages to represent as accurately as possible the artistry of another person for the reading joy Anglophone readers is truly an act of the greatest generosity and highest cultural importance. Open Letter Books' site says, "Women in Translation Month is always an exciting time to discover, read, discuss, and celebrate books by women from around the world. It was created by Meytal Radzinski back in 2014, and has since spawned numerous articles, events, and even the Warwick Prize for Women in Translation." And WomenInTranslation.org, the Mothership if you will, says it most authoritatively:
"WITMonth—aka Women in Translation Month—is an annual celebration of women writers from around the world, writing in languages other than English. Started by Meytal Radzinski in 2014, WITMonth has grown to become a staple of the online literary community, as well as a prominent presence in independent bookstores around the world. Every August, readers from all continents around the world (except Antarctica, but we’ll get those penguins yet!) gather in spirit (and sometimes in person) to read, review, and discuss works by women writers in translation. The idea is to spread the word about the Women in Translation project at large, and promote individual women writers in translation specifically. Follow #WITMonth on Twitter, Instagram, Booktube, and across the world!" I'm planning to write at least thirty-one full reviews of works translated by women this month. Even if they're translating men's writing. (I've been told before that this is "not in the spirit of the celebration" and I'm "diluting the intended impact of the hashtag," both of which snarky stupidities I have very consciously and intentionally ignored. This will not change.)

As an act of celebration I'm including a few special discounts I know publishers are offering on parts of their lists below with all the relevant details and the links to their sites. I'll add to these links as and when I come across more:

SEVEN STORIESThrough the end of August 2026, take 25% off all currently available translated books by women authors! Please note that all forthcoming books are available for preorder at 10% off. https://sevenstories.com/blogs/385-celebrate-women-in-translation-month-2026

TRANSIT BOOKS 30% off all titles by women in translation through the end of August with the discount code WITMONTH. https://www.transitbooks.org/postscript/women-in-translation-month

OPEN LETTER BOOKS 40% discount on all Open Letter print titles written by women, along with any book translated by a woman, for the whole month of August. Discount applied automatically at checkout. https://www.openletterbooks.org/collections/women-in-translation-month

COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY PRESS Use coupon code WITM at checkout to save 20% on your purchase. https://cup.columbia.edu/promotions/women-in-translation-month/women-in-translation-booklist/*
More, I hope, to come below:

SYRACUSE UNIVERSITY PRESS Women in Translation Month celbration: 40% off all translations. Offer valid through September 15, use discount code 05FAIR26 at checkout. https://press.syr.edu/supressbook-subject/literature-in-translation/

WORLD EDITIONS offers a 40% discount on any orders (US, UK & Canada) of our WIT books. Please use code wit26 at checkout if you'd like to take advantage. https://worldeditions.org/home-4/books-written-translated-by-women/

Wednesday, July 1, 2026

JUNE/PRIDE MONTH/2Q2026 IN REVIEW

amazing advertising artwork promoting the new Dune movie

It was Pride Month here on my blog. I focused on queer reviewing for the whole month (and a little bit of May). I wrote twenty-eight specific-to-Pride reviews. Twelve of those were June 2026 DRCs (out of twenty June 2026 DRCs reviewed this month, and a slightly appalling SEVENTY-FOUR June DRCs I received. Seriously...one less than my LibraryThing home group's annual goal in one month?! Who do I think I am, Biblio-Terminator?).

I'm torn between The Invention of Nature, a biography of my elder sibling in gay-maleness Alexander von Humboldt, and Medea Sang Me A Corrido as my favorite Pride reads. I thoroughly loved Villain but it was less clearly queer than Hench so got a hair less luuuv from me. The Summer Boy was a lovely read, a story I felt was aimed directly at me; yet it wasn't as energetic, as actively pursuing my attention as my two favorite candidates. I read two Steven Rowley stories, liked both, but...not quite enough to warble my fool lungs out over them. It was a good 2026 Pride crop, one to savor in memory, and makes me very glad I didn't pressure myself with a numerical goal so I didn't fret about "making progress" or other such artificial stricture. I'm labeling this tracking project a successful trial. Maybe I'll aim for a numerical goal in 2027. I have a solid eight months to decide, no rush....

In June overall, I wrote thirty-six reviews. I received a slightly appalling SEVENTY-FOUR June DRCs; thus my reviewed-DRCs percentage is a barely tolerable 48.6%. I'm obviously quite greedy, and a fast reader, but THAT is worrying me. It could be years before I review those generously gifted-to-me books! I must work on my s(h)elf control.

Of the sixteen reviews for not-QUILTBAG books in June, one stands out like a lighthouse in the living room as a "please please pleasepleaseplease read this book": The Reverse Centaur's Guide to Life After AI by Cory Doctorow. It's important. Please read it. Get it from your library if you don't want to spend money on it. Just read it. Please. In those sixteen non-QUILTBAG reviews there were no fictions that I found terribly exciting. The crappiest book I read in June was Puck, and I am not kidding when I tell you the one I'm talking about here gets lost in one's search-results options because the hockey-romance craze is INSANE! Puck-the-character adapted here from Shakespeare turned me off completely.

So I soldier onward to July, and the third quarter of 2026. I expect to see a dramatic decrease in my blog's engagement because Bluesky no longer allows me to access it through my browser...it insists on being the only thing on my screen, being vertically formatted, and thus unreadable for me. I do not expect them to reverse course so I'll be on their site at most a few times a day. I hate it when tech scum make decisions for me. They *never* get it right. ENSHITTIFICATION is real. Like the way the goddamned motherfucking AI decided I wanted to capitalize "enshittification" when I did not.

The second quarter of 2026 saw me write reviews for 105 books in total, sixty-three in their publishing month. That's out of a total of 171 DRCs received for this quarter, or 37% reviewed in the month they were published and 60% of my total reviews written. I was most eager to read The Violence: My Family's Colombian War because Author Adriana is an old friend's daughter-in-law, who happens to be a very talented writer. It was a great success in the marketplace, and with me. The second of my two current possibilities for 2026's six-stars-of-five read is a non-fiction book for the first time ever: A Bird's IQ: Innovation, Intelligence, and Problem Solving in the Avian World is by Louis Lefebvre and translated from French by Pablo Strauss. It was a surprise to me how much of Author Lefebvre's earlier novel-writing training held over into his non-ficton prose creation without making it feel as though he was book-horning pretty sentences into places they felt brummagem or incongruous.

Overall, I liked non-fiction a lot more than usual this quarter, with some tippy-top reads as well as a true shocker coming from that genre. The shocker was Self-Help from the Middle Ages: What the Seven Deadly Sins Can Teach Us About Living by Peter Jones; self-help's a genre I view with great skepticism based on what "They" tell you it is, ie a way to fix problems. It's much more interesting to me as a barometer reading of the culture's current obsessions, and the average person's most pressing personal fears. This book managed to be a bit of both. That was a pleasant surprise, plus I liked Author Peter Jones's presentation of self.

Looking ahead to July, I'm not going to kid around: I have forty-two DRCs of July-date reads unreviewed out of forty-three received (as of 1 July, it could go up as the month wears on). I want to get half of those reviewed. I plan to prioritize political books as we head into midterms this quarter. I've got a lot of political-reads noted already from years gine by. I've always held back because so many people I know just flat refuse to put in the work of reading the books. That's no longer something I can factor in to my review-writing queue. The stakes are too high to pander to lowest-common-denominator reading habits.

Can't make y'all read the books, or the reviews, but you'll have to make a conscious choice to skip them.

Sunday, June 7, 2026

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH 2026!


Last year at the end of June, my friend Sarah-Hope and I decided that a good way to celebrate #PrideMonth would be by highlighting our top five queer reads of the past year. Hence, the list I offer below that covers books published in 2025 and 2026 to date. I cheated; one of Sarah-Hope's is also one of mine so I included but didn't count it.
☀☁☂☀☁☂☀☁☂☀☁☂☀☁☂☀☁☂☀☁☂☀☁☂☀☁☂☀☁☂
Forest Euphoria: The Abounding Queerness of Nature by Patricia Ononiwu Kaishian: Overall, the thing I loved about this read was not the fount of factfulness but the fountain of meditative, calm reflection that Author Patty (she refers to herself as such on her website so I'm presuming to do so too) uses to soothe away the hurts being queer in a hostile world has wrought. It delights me that this deeply queer in most senses of the word I'm familiar with has spent more than a year on The Independent Press Top 40 Bestsellers: Non-Fiction! Most recently for the week ending June 2, 2026.

••••••
Stories from the Edge of the Sea by Andrew Lam: How to go on, when you honestly think your world is ending, is at the heart of any immigrant's story. Your world is ending, are you going to end with it?

Not while someone is cold and hungry, I'm not. I immigrated from my happy world to this ugly, mean-spirited one entirely against my will. But here I am. My kettle's only got words, but heads need filling...feeding...too. There are three 5* stories in here: The Tree of Life is an elegy to a mother's love; A Good Broth Takes Its Time "I insure people against tragedy, in a country built on it," says Toan, survivor and thriver on pho's magically Proustian-madeleine insubstantial waft of piercing sadness and joy at the ephemeral moments of recall; and for me, relict of a great, great love gone to AIDS, there's October Laments that follows a woman who processes her grief in real time posts on Facebook, in a foreign language, for the husband she shared twenty-five years of life with. I suppose we all conduct our love affairs in translation to a degree, but there's a gulf you cannot deny away or fully bridge between older and younger, added to culturally separated lovers.

Any one of those stories would get this collection on my favorites list. But all three? No wonder this collection's one of LitHub's 100 Notable Small Press Books for 2025!

••••••
Separate Rooms by Pier Vittorio Tondelli and translated by Simon Pleasance was the first novel about AIDS in Italian. This book came out in 1989. I assume most of y'all remember something about 1989, but probably not the sheer awfulness of the AIDS epidemic eating the gay-men's communities around the world at that time.

I was there. I loved and lost more than once in the hell of the times. It happened like Tondelli—dead a year and a half after this book appeared—said it did. Leaving a record for those not even born then feels important to me; leaving an anguished, choked sob that records the reality feels urgent.

••••••
We Were the Universe by Kimberly King Parsons is the first novel by yje author of my 2019 six-stars-of-five delight Black Light: Stories. Grief and grieving are common to us all. It is not, for some, cathartic to experience them in fiction. I'm not one of those people, but if you are, this is not the read for you. I hope all the rest of us will derive the comfort of fellow feeling from this story that was shortlisted for the 37th Lambda Literary Awards for Bisexual Fiction.

••••••
The Six Loves of James I by Gareth Russell snuck under my harbor-blocking chains set up against applying 2026 identities to 1560s-born folks. Author Russell is scrupulous in making you au fait with his sources. He specifically says, on the occasions he makes a logical leap, that this is what he's doing. Where people in the past used the lens of homophobia to "tar" a man's reputation with the stench of sodomy, much more often than not the "charge" was made absent solid evidence, and for some sort of political or ideological reason. Hence my relieved pleasure with this read's honest offering-up of details I enjoyed learning that led me to think James of Scotland (born in 1966 not 1566) would've *loved* Pride Month.

•••••• My cheat:
(So What) If I’m a Puta? Diaries of Transness, Sex Work, Desire by Amara Moira and translated from Brazilian Portuguese by Bruna Dantas Lobato and Amanda De Lisio: Self-determination, personal autonomy, individual freedom, call it what you like: It is the central fact in the competing ideologies of high-control and laissez-faire systems of social organization duking it out around the world since 2025. Spoiler alert: It's always going to fall short for one side's happiness and comfort. I myownself want it to fall shortest for the high-control (usually religious) fascist slime. This personal story is a goddamned anthem for the freedom so hard-won and so terrifyingly fragile.

There. I'm out of the closet. I want what "They" only claim to want, the PTB out of my personal business, telling me who I can fuck, marry, or vote for.

☀☁☂☀☁☂☀☁☂☀☁☂☀☁☂☀☁☂☀☁☂☀☁☂☀☁☂☀☁☂

Below, with her permission, I present Sarah-Hope's list of her five extraordinary reads from 2025 and the first half of 2026.

Necessary Fiction, by Eloghosa Osunde: Necessary Fiction is one of those novel-ish short story collections (or short story collection-ish novels). It's sent in present day Nigeria, mostly Lagos, and features a wide range of gay/lesbian/queer/nonbinary characters. Most of the characters come from families wealthy enough that they're not concerned with making a living, but those who are not prove to be ingenious in figuring out services that seem to become essential as soon as they're offered/invented. If you like queer fiction, if you like books that are adventurous in terms of style and structure, you're in for a huge treat with Necessary Fiction. Five Stars

(So What) If I’m a Puta? Diaries of Transness, Sex Work, Desire by Amara Moira: This is a book about resistance and the powers that want to smash that resistance. The resistance is Moira's. She's a literary scholar, tranvestí, and sexworker. The powers are cis het men titillated by pursuing what they would imprison others for, social convention, and the politics of hate—and an infinitude of others. Moira demonstrates that sexwork is like any kind of work: occasionally satisfying, but more apt to fall somewhere along the awakward to the life-threatening (like Amazon warehouse employees, folks working in explosives factories, workers on the processing lines in the chicken business). Read So What If I'm a Puta to spend time looking through Moira's eyes with rage, solidarity, and grief—then look at our own sans blinders and distractions.

Five Stars

Dark Renaissance The Dangerous Times and Fatal Genius of Shakespeare's Greatest Rival by Stephen Greenblatt: Kit Marlowe was not just a brilliant playwright and contemporary of Shakespeare, but also involved in the intelligencing (we would call it espionage) that became a significant force in England during the reign of Elizabeth I. We can safely call Marlowe a loose cannon. Greenblatt identifies some of Marlowe's most salient characteristics—button pushing, shocking, espousing the outré—and then examines Marlowe’s plays to see the ways those characteristics are evidenced in his work. If you have any interest in Elizabethan politics and/or queer politics and/or faith and/or drama this is a book you should be pick up posthaste.

Five Stars

These Heathens by Mia McKenzie These Heathens has two settings: small-town Georgia in 1960, where Doris, the central character, lives and Atlanta, where she travels to end a pregnancy accompanied by one of her former teachers. The "former" here is important. Doris left school a year or two ago because she was needed at home. She comes from a church-going family and is a firm believer. Much of her day is shaped by the "rules" her faith has given her to live by. When Doris realizes she's pregnant, she's certain that Jesus doesn't want her to become a mother, so she turns to the most trusted adult in her life who is not affiliated with her family's church: her former teacher Mrs. Lucas. Mrs. Lucas promises she will help and arranges through a childhood friend to bring Doris to Atlanta for an abortion. It's at this point that things begin to get complicated. Doris is meeting people unlike any she's known. These are city people with incomes well beyond those earned by the Black folk living in her hometown. There's Mrs. Lucas' childhood friend, who appears to prefer women over men. Doris has been warned about the dangers of inversion, but she is every bit as fascinated as she is perturbed. And she also meets several young men who introduce her to SNCC, sit-ins, and even a bit of the Nation of Islam. She's also meeting people she's only read about in Jet or Ebony: the Kings, Bayard Rustin, and Black entertainers. Watching Doris enter these new worlds, explain them to herself, and make her own way through them is a delight.

Five Stars

My Roommate from Hell by Cale Dietrich: As a general rule, I can’t stand romances, but sometimes a romance comes along that stretches the genre in so many directions that it becomes a delight to read, regardless of preconceived biases. The novel riffs on the enemies-to-lovers trope. Owen and Zarmenus are first-year students at college and roommates. Owen wants to study software engineering then land a high-paying job—he’s devoted to his goals. He’s also gay. Hoping for a studious study partner, he’s instead paired with Zarmenus—that’s Prince Zarmenus, the son of the rulers of Hell, which scientists have just discovered exists. His parents want to him to be a sterling example of a well-behaved demon as a first attempt at an Earth-Hell exchange program. Zarmenus meanwhile wants to party and sleep with as many hot guys as he can. Yep, he too is gay. Their relationship is a disaster from the get-go, things get worse, then they get worser, then they get exceptionally complicated while becoming (maybe?) slightly less worser, then…. My Roommate from Hell is a flat-out comic romp with a cast of characters that may drive you nuts at times, but who you’ll also come to feel deeply fond of.

Five Stars

☀☁☂☀☁☂☀☁☂☀☁☂☀☁☂☀☁☂☀☁☂☀☁☂☀☁☂☀☁☂ ...AND THERE YOU HAVE IT! Two retirees, veterans of the culture wars of the 1960s and 1970s who came out in our different homes to different results, and developed a shared love of reading...reading Queer stories especially. We shared one title on our favorite reads, and generally show consistent love for our siblings in queerness in their global diversity.

#ExistenceIsResistance

Friday, May 1, 2026

APRIL IN REVIEW


I wrote thirty-two reviews total in April. Twenty-five were for books published this month; so out of forty-nine DRCs I got that were publishing in April that's 51% of the total DRC haul. Quite a few, six of the twenty-four unwritten reviews or 25% of the unreviewed ones, are June-review bound because they're QUILTBAG stories.

I'm very pleased with this level of performance...I need to make a consistent effort to keep the current-month reviews at least that percentage of my total writing output. Otherwise I risk getting turned down by publishers and aggregators for things I really want. Like John of John, which I did not get despite raving about his previous books and my perfidious friend did. *sulphurous muttering*

There were three excellent reads in April: The Violence: My Family's Colombian War

and An Honest Living: A Memoir of Peculiar Itineraries,

...both memoirs and both highly politically charged on the non-fiction side. I'm glad I read both before May Day.

In fiction, the Azeri novel via those wallet-flatteners at New Vessel Press My Dreadful Body by Egana Djabbarova and translated by Lisa C. Hayden. It's a deeply involving and truly disturbing story of a woman's sociocultural experience of femaleness and the physicality of womanhood.

My favorite read of the month was, however, my biggest surprise: Self-Help from the Middle Ages: What the Seven Deadly Sins Can Teach Us About Living by Peter Jones, which I requested on a whim since I think about medieval times the way normal men do about the Roman Empire. It was enlightening, it was upsetting to my prejudices and ideas about the people of the times, and it humbled me for its astonishing and evident deep-diving into archives I did not know existed. Impressive work!

I didn't HATE my one Pearl-Ruled read, just...well, got squicked out by what it means, and whether I could really get behind that. Can't all be bangers, of course, or the very idea of the banger is meaningless.

My May plans involve mostly short-story collections and anthologies. I'm making this kind of round-up and planning report a monthly feature, unless it bombs totally because I already do a version of it on LibraryThing so why not go wide?

Thursday, January 1, 2026

Happy Incoming 2026


↟↟↟↟↟↟↟↟↟What I want to say to 2025's ghosts, ghouls, and gross old pedophiles. I've already said elsewhere that I won't be focusing attention on the number of books I've read, or any of the rest of the numbers game, because it feels like bragging. I have none of the pressures on me that normal people have. I've got my datastick of notes from reads as much as thirteen years old, never written into reviews for any number of reasons. I have a huge hoard of rage at the kakistocracy fueling a desire to do something, a disability that doesn't allow that something to be kinetic, and so I write.

It's what I can do, so it's what I will keep doing until ICEstapo starts coming for domestic enemies of the kakistocracy. Emptying that data stick of the backlog of more-or-less coherent notes taken might last me the year, if I get even close to 2025's levels of success in writing away my emotional pain. My reviewing schedule for 2026 will begin on the second...there will be hashtag events during the year that I'll announce the weekend before they begin...I still won't post reviews on Tuesdays (traditional book-release day in the US) until publishing slows down the new-books firehose in December as #Booksgiving hots up. The most exciting books of 2025's reading were translations so I'm definitely continuing my focus on reading translated literature in 2026.

Y'all already know about my six-stars-of-five read for 2025 (the whole list is at the bottom of this post): THE REMEMBERED SOLDIER by ANJET DAANJE, and translated from Flemish by David McKay via the estimable tastemakers at New Vessel Press (Support an excellent indie press!). My review should say it all about the layered, subtle evocation of memory's centrality to identity, about the effort love takes, about the nature of desire and its propulsive projective power. It's the kind of (long!) read that I want to put in peoples' hands to explain themselves -to- themselves.

It is a New York Times 100 Notable Books designee, it was a finalist for the National Book Award for Translated Fiction, on lists from Publishers Weekly and LitHub and the Wall Street Journal...it deserves the patient companionship and compassion of readers seeking a window into forming...discovering...identity through its loss and rebuilding Trauma does not have to be war, you know. The world can, and does, do similar devastating things to us callously and carelessly in the course of Life. Buy one, tree book or ebook, ask your library for one so they'll know people want it, get on their wait list for it, or get one via their ILL program. It is a good, impactful story told the best way a story can be: carefully, caringly, with the cares and the needs of its characters and its readers at its heart.


Since the entirety of 2026 is looking politically unstable, I'm making a point to review books that treat that instability as a chance to reflect on how we got here, so we can get out...and stay out. I'm not a bit sure anyone will enjoy it. It is urgent not to lose sight of the reality that our right to read and think and behave like, about, and what we think is best is very much under attack. 6870 times in the 2024-2025 school year alone. Guess whose identities were targeted most often. "Books by authors of color, by LGBTQ+ authors, by women. Books about racism, sexuality, gender, history. PEN America pushes back against censorship and the intolerance and exclusion that undergird it." I recommend joining PEN America to support a key player in the fight to oppose and reverse the school bans.
𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗥𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗞𝗢, Untitled, 1968 Oil on paper mounted on canvas Pace Gallery, London Photo by Chris Weekes

I'll end on the image of a Rothko that evokes my sense of peaceful hope, optimism, and faith in humanity. I wish all of those things to every living one of us. No matter who; no matter where; no matter what.
ALL MY 6*-OF-FIVE REVIEWS

1994. MONTANA 1948...the original; the perfect read!
  1. THE SONG OF ACHILLES
  2. MATTERHORN
  3. EUROPE IN AUTUMN
  4. MARGARET THE FIRST
  5. MISSIONARY
  6. CIRCE
  7. BLACK LIGHT
  8. YOU EXIST TOO MUCH
  9. COVE
  10. KIBOGO
  11. THE WORDS THAT REMAIN
  12. GLORIOUS EXPLOITS
  13. THE REMEMBERED SOLDIER

Sunday, June 29, 2025

#PrideMonth 2025 wrap-up; second-half plans; celebrating milestones


The first five months of the year saw 139,334 blog views; this month, not over yet, almost matches that total! I was fully satisfied, pleased even, with those first-half totals so this month is mind-blowing to me. For the first half of 2025, my thirteen-year odyssey writing over 3700 reviews and achieving over 1,000,000 blog-views has been satisfying, exciting, and deeply enriching.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I'm amazed...June's blog-views were excellent, today they stopped 100,000 (101,165 as of now) for the 29 days of the month so far. That's five times my usual 20,000—30,000 total! Much to my surprise Bluesky and Tumblr more than replace Twitter as drivers of eyeballs, and that's from back before Edolph Twitler had enshittified the place. I still refuse to engage with that traitorous fuck Zuck's properties, so Threadbookgram is not in my social mix.

I wrote forty-eight reviews in total this month. I'm using the remaining two days of the month to get some ideas for what to do with July. The realization has been reinforced that I'm tired of thrillers for now, mysteries need to be queer to break through my genre fatigue, and honestly I just do not know how much more enshittification of Life I can endure without going nuts. Reading is my best escape, writing helps me think through the way the reading hits me and why, but it's asking a lot to watch my country turn into dystopia in front of my eyes.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

About my #PrideMonth (link is to all hashtagged #PrideMonth on the blog) reviews: I'm satisfied with my thirty-six reviews written for 2025. I had one more I wanted to finish, a short-story collection called Amplitudes, but there are twenty-two stories; eight I haven't read. I just can't. So this is it on 2025's Pride Month review-fest.

My internal stretch goal was to get forty-eight reviews written but that was simply too much of one subject matter to get done in thirty days. I think I can get there with a bit better planning in 2026. I need to remember that there must be room for off-hashtag reviews in the schedule too. We shall see how much I can improve on 2025's success.

I read several excellent books. I fell in love with one. Stories from the Edge of the Sea had two perfect moments in its fourteen good-to-fine stories. "October Lament" will break the isolation of those for whom Grief is a guest who won't go home. "A Good Broth Takes Its Time" has more packed into its pho bowl than you expected; it is the apotheosis of immigrant stories I'm growing to understand in a new way as I adjust to having immigrated against my will into a different and worse country.

I've recommended books for a long time now. I hope some of y'all will stay on the trek behind me; if the views you've seen have pleased once in a while, please trust me one more time and try Andrew Lam's collection of meditations on grief and grieving as constants.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The third quarter of 2025 has several fun hashtaggie projects to direct my readerly attention. August is the next big one, as it is every year, Women In Translation (#WITMonth, link to the blog's full list) so much of my July reading is settled. (I don't read one book at a time, beginning to end, because I bore too easily; my way lets me mood-read, and still finish more books of focused reading than the one-at-a-time way does.) I'll review for July posting an eclectic mix of stuff I completed in the first half of the year, and some I finished years ago but never wrote up (sinful wicked shame on me!). I'll try my best to get most of the July publishing date books I received from the DRC aggregators I frequent posted. I don't have any plans to change the way I post, or to alter the frequency or content of posts on my socials. We'll see if June 2025 was an outlier or a harbinger.

Tuesday, May 28, 2024

#PrideMonth launches!



#PrideMonth launches! Yes, in the US Pride Month is a June celebration, but lag times must be built into all holiday seasons. I'll be reviewing mostly stuff from, by, about those people somewhere on the QUILTBAG rainbow of identities.
My intention is to get as close as my corpus callosum will support to a full-on review posted five times a week. Burgoines and Pearl-Rules aren't subject to my numerical targeting at any time...though that could happen depending on my capacities. Goodness knows I have the most amazing pile of raw review material, and a number of current-year requests for DRCs are pending. I have, as usual, a few reviews in the queue ready to go, so I like my chances of success.

Click here to see an entire blog's worth of #PrideMonth reviews.

I wish you all a wonderful June, and a grand old party of a #PrideMonth, filled with lazy days of reading in your favorite places.

Monday, January 1, 2024

Reaching higher for even better reads and reviews in 2024



Time to set 2024's goals! A bad year for me health-wise started me on the path of pulling in my horns, making my goals and my ideas about myself and my capacities smaller in the wake of the disaster. That really doesn't work for me, as a person, I found out. I got hugely lucky...I'm walking, talking, reading, and writing, despite the consensus opinion that I wouldn't be doing much of any of those things. And that somehow means I need to rein my ambitions IN?! What kind of dimwitted thinking is that?

So I set bigger and bigger goals as 2023 went on. I made them all. That leads me to think this year shouldn't be started with self-limiting smallness. If I reviewed 222 books in 2023, why not go for at least 250 in 2024?

So I will.

2023's six-stars-of-five read was a gay classic, winner of the National Book Award for Translation, The Words That Remain by Stênio Gardel and translated by Bruna Dantas Lobato. It was published in the US by New Vessel Press, and I got a DRC from them via Edelweiss+. An excellent read. It was the sweetest, most poignant tale of the immense agony that homophobia perpetrates on its victims that I have read. It transported me back to a time in my life where a similar thing happened to me that happened to the boys in the story, and seeing that awfulness perpetrated by others put my own pain into a new perspective. Author Stênio Gardel and Translator Bruna Dantas Lobato deserve all the accolades, and this novel of the sweetness and delight of young love destroyed by the unreasoning hatred of homophobia deserves a place on everyone's shelf.

All but 36 of 2023's reviews were from NetGalley and Edelweiss+, the DRC aggregators I use to get my biblioholism fixes. That's 16% of the total actually read and reviewed. In 2024, I think that percentage is just fine to maintain, so I'll settle on 41 reads not from those two sources as my soft goal...I don't much care if I hit it exactly, but I do need to leave room to read and review books I've been gifted over the years!

2023's #Booksgiving review blast resulted in my blog views for the month being 177% of November's total. So that worked. I only used Twitter for all of November, then for #Booksgiving, added Bluesky and Tumblr. That worked, too. The sadness of my #PrideMonth limp, flaccid performanceless unblast made me realize that, if I'm going to get a big project done, I need to break it down into steps. This is new for me, and a result of the actual limitations that the strokes have imposed on me. Like no longer being able to read handwriting or decode graphics like Wordle, this acquired dyslexia is a limitation I need to acknowledge. Not to say I won't keep pushing against it...but it's real, and planning needs to be based in reality.

I hope all y'all have 2024s that brim with good reads, good news, and good love.
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Saturday, December 31, 2022

FAREWELL 2022. I WELCOME A NEW YEAR WITH A 6-STARS-OF-FIVE REVIEW!


It's time to get my 2023 house in order. 2022 saw me pass out 77 4.5* or higher reviews of 393 total, or 19%. Quite a good year indeed. I think the most amazing part of my reading year was the consistently good quality of my non-fiction reading, from Already Toast: Caregiving and Burnout in America and Today Hong Kong, Tomorrow the World: What China's Crackdown Reveals about Its Plans to End Freedom Everywhere through to Algorithms of Oppression: How Search Engines Reinforce Racism and High-Risk Homosexual. I read with a slack jaw and a wildly beating heart the beautifully unconventional Before All the World, not one single thing about that read has dimmed a notch in my memory's lantern. I became misty and sad and still uplifted when I read Natasha Pulley's gorgeously wrought The Kingdoms, alternate history that has the one and the only truthful and accurate to my own experience portrayal of non-consensual heterosexual sex where the woman is the rapist. It was stunning. It was freeing to read on a page that someone else knew. I am forever in her debt for this alone, and am always eager for more like 2022's The Half Life of Valery K. There's a peak reading year in those reads alone! HOWSOMEVER....
It's my annual six-stars-of-five read! Kibogo (my book review), a beautiful tale of colonial-era Catholicism meeting, battling, and suffering defeat at the hands of Kibogo, the Rwandan folk-religion's organizing spirit. It was a finalist for the National Book Award for Literature in Translation. It was the most unforgettable book I read in a year chock-a-block with wonderful reading. It explored the many ways colonialism tries to destroy the colonized, insidious personal invasions that are masked by pious mouthings and cold, cruel hearts crossdressing to seem unthreatening. And it still told a fine and exciting tale!

In 2022, I posted 370 reviews here, and 393 on my bookish social media sites. I don't think I can sustain such a pace at my time in life, but there's no sense setting meager goals is there. In 2023, my goals are:
  • To post 395 reviews of all sorts here
  • To post at least 120 Burgoines here and on my bookish social media sites of ARCs
          and/or DRCs from before 2022
  • To review at least 50% female or -presenting authors across genres
  • To post a review every day during #PrideMonth and #WomeninTranslationMonth
  • If I've learned nothing else in my *hack*ty-three years, it's to keep the goals from being the focus. It's the achievements I'm after, not the check-box ticking!

    Happy 2023 to all my readers, and to your friends and your families and your companion animals (unless they're cats) and your delivery providers and...everyone we've ever met in our entire lives, to misquote Maureen Stapleton.

    Friday, July 1, 2022

    Happy Long weekend, North Americans!


    After posting fifty reviews this #PrideMonth, I'm taking the long weekend off. Expect normal service, Monday-Wednesday-Friday, to resume on Wednesday, 6 July 2022.

    If you haven't noticed, email subscribers are getting erratic deliveries from all Blogger sites because Google never made enough money from the platform to take the needs of its users too seriously. I myownself suggest using Feedly to follow your various blogs and news sites. I do; it's a simple process and I get everything in one simple menu that I can customize within limits. (Unless you're willing to pay for it, but I'm too cheap.) Hugely reduces the time I spend sifting through my inbox, for one thing, and reduces the amount of time I spend clicking around, too. Give it a whirl! (I am not sponsored by or getting anything at all for this announcement.)

    Be safe this holiday weekend. Don't drink and drive, that's why gawd invented Uber and Lyft. Every single one of you who reads my posts is a gift, and I'm grateful for you all.