This novel was my Alabama pick for my Make America Read Again challenge. To see the full list, click here).
Y’all ever get a case of the Sunday Scaries? This week it hit me like a Mack Truck; I’m not sure if it was because of my extra-fun Saturday spent in South Carolina, the fact that work has been extra-stressful lately, that I’ve been reading too many “dark” books lately (Charles made me promise that my next read would be “happy” after I spent several days tearing up at virtually everything, and then gave him a summary of the past five books I’ve read, all of which were about less-than-sunny subjects), or that I’m simply in summer mode, but I definitely felt some kind of way when I woke up this Sunday morning…and it wasn’t my normal chipper self but instead, moody and whiny.
Sometimes I really wish I could just be a tour guide all day every day instead of a dentist
SOOO I’m going to make this post short and sweet so I can bury my head in a good (CHEERFUL) book and pretend like I don’t have to spend all day tomorrow staring at teeth ;).
(I’m trying to read a book from each state this year for my Make America Read Again project. This is my Michigan pick.)
So remember how last week’s book review was light and frothy? Well. This week’s book for Michigan is the exact opposite. Instead, it’s a story of an intense high school friendship, the lure of addiction, and the spiraling effect of small events in life. This book swept me back to my own high school years, the (mostly) pre-Facebook and smart phone and economic collapse era, the years of locker room rumors and AP testing and field parties that, despite your best intentions, shape a part of your adulthood in ways you don’t always realize until much later.
Let’s get into it.
Psst, this year I am attempting to read one book set in each state of America. To see the full list and what I’ve read so far, click here! Joy Luck Club is also a part of my list for Classics Club, click HERE for that list).
Happy Mother’s Day to all my motherly friends, family, and of course, my own beautiful mother and grandmother! Because of my mama, I know (among many other things) how to cook the most scrumptious cornbread and Red Velvet Cake in existence, the necessity of daily sunscreen for our porcelain (ok, pasty pale) skin, the understanding that a weekend spent on the beach can cure virtually any ailment, and – my personal favorite – the ability to make everyone in a social event feel included and comfortable. I could continue on with so many more reasons why my mom is the best, but in order to avoid sounding trite, I’ll simply say this: I am beyond blessed to call her my mama.
Last week, a friend of mine asked how I tear through so many books a year. My secret to success is, like most millennials, through my iPhone addiction: I listen to a whole lot of audiobooks.
Y’all, I spend a lot of time in my car. Last year, I commuted from Boston to my first “real” job as a dentist and on a good day, my commute was an hour and a half. EACH. WAY. Now I live in Atlanta (the city of collapsing interstates) where I spend the majority of my free time sitting in a gridlock of honking cars.
a typical day in Atlanta rush hour. Photo credit via fox news.
I don’t know if you heard the news, but Boston was recently voted #1 Best U.S. City for Book Lovers, and I fully endorse this ranking.
Don’t get me wrong, there are many things I don’t miss about Boston – the frigidly miserable winters, the brash rapport between pedestrians and drivers, the underlying layer of pretentiousness amongst the vast academic population. However, I do miss the abundance of scenic, cozy independent bookstores that were sprinkled throughout the city and suburbs.