my reading list (and my anthropologie blanket and a few other things)

Before I wax poetic about the great books I read this summer, let me send a shout-out to the ones I haven’t gotten to yet. As you can see from my shelves, I have a lot to catch up on. Hmmm … as you can apparently also see from this picture, I have wooden and metal flowers on my bedside table because I tend to kill live ones; I have never put a photo in that picture frame because I don’t want to cover up the pretty paper inside; and my pillows have different pillowcases than Michael’s because they’re the only pillows I can sleep on and I think it would be stupid to get divorced over bedding.

Anyhow, besides the sheer quantity, there are a couple of reasons I am so far behind on the books I really want to read:

1) See that amazingly plush and cushy-looking green Anthropologie blanket on the bed? All I have to do is look at it, and I’m practically in dreamland. My husband and I are so enamored with this blanket that we put the air-conditioning up really high in the summer so we can rationalize using it. Since bedtime seems to be the only time I’ve had to read most of this summer, I would end up turning a couple of pages before getting so cold that I’d have to curl up in the green blanket, and suddenly the sun would be coming up and it would be time to feed the dog breakfast. Damn you, Anthropologie. (Just kidding, I’m totally in love with you.)

2) I became obsessed with thrillers this summer. I’m trying to move on – really I am – although I just snuck in Elizabeth George’s This Body of Death, and think I have a slight crush on Detective Lynley. I may have to go read the other books in that series to see what he was like before his wife died. (That’s not a spoiler. I promise.) Speaking of popular series, I just received  V is for Vengeance, which is definitely tempting me. My mother rolls her eyes in disgust that I haven’t read any Sue Grafton yet, but I’m worried that if I start now and feel the same way about it that she expects me to, I’ll have 21 letters to catch up with. I’m exhausted just thinking about it, and hear my green blanket calling me.

3) I am a Readers’ Prize Juror for Elle magazine, and have to pick my favorite non-fiction book of the year from the jurors’ six top choices – by Wednesday. I only have one left to go, and love that I get to do this because I have been introduced to a fascinating and brave group of storytellers, including Jennifer Gardner Trulson, who lost her husband on September 11; Matthew Logelin whose wife died after giving birth to their first child, and Brianna Karp, who found herself jobless and living in a trailer in a Walmart parking lot at the age of 22.

Somehow, though, I did manage to read a bunch of really great books. But now that I’ve spent so much time giving you a tour of my bedroom and making excuses for not reading more – and because I have to finish my last book for Elle – I will quickly tell you about a few of my favorites, and continue the list throughout the week. I hope you’ll share your favorites with me, too – like I don’t have enough to read!

What Alice Forgot by Liane Moriarty

All summer, my sister kept asking me, “So, did you read What Alice Forgot yet?” She is a voracious reader and we always share book recommendations, but this was very unlike her. I felt like she was sending me some secret message so I finally sat down and read it. I got it immediately. In the book, Alice falls off her bike during spin class (I knew this was my kind of story already) and loses all her memories of the past ten years – a period during which she had three children and is now in the process of a bitter divorce. She can’t remember her kids at all, and is still blissfully in love with her husband. This may sound light and fluffy but it’s not. In fact, for anyone who’s been married a long time (my husband and I just celebrated our 30^th anniversary, my sister and brother-in-law just celebrated their 24^th), it’s often gasp-inducing in its insight. You will think about this book long after you finish reading it – and may even change your own behavior because of it. As my sister said about author Liane Moriarty, “She just nails it.”

Pictures of You by Caroline Leavitt

Although it’s difficult to combine suspense with richly-developed characters — one is often sacrificed for the other — Caroline Leavitt manages to make it seem effortless. Four lives change dramatically after a fatal car accident on a foggy highway. The two female drivers are both seeking fresh starts, leaving their marriages, when their paths literally collide and change everything. Leavitt is a generous writer, and she treats her flawed characters with respect and compassion. She recognizes their imperfections, gives them the opportunity to do the same, then opens the door to forgiveness. This is a story about the messiness of life, and the startling truth that we often have no idea what’s going on underneath any surface. Thanks to Leavitt’s soothing, rhythmic writing, I found myself simply gliding through the words, not realizing I was holding my breath until the last sentence. What I did realize without question was that I had been in the hands of a master storyteller all along.

The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh

I love books that introduce me to a topic I know nothing about, and I was immediately drawn to this beautiful novel about a foster child who uses the Victorian language of flowers to communicate. As she grows up and out of the system, she continues to rely on and trust the safety of the floral world, which gives her the strength and confidence to slowly make her way into the real world. This is a stunning, totally original story best symbolized by lupines, elders, daffodils and red carnations (a bouquet I put together according to the dictionary at the end of the book, representing “imagination,” “compassion,” “new beginnings” and “my heart breaks,” respectively). Author Vanessa Diffenbaugh is a foster mom herself and is launching the Camellia Network (camellias mean “my destiny is in your hands”) to support youth making the transition from foster care to independence. This gives a whole new meaning to the expression, “Say it with flowers.”

For a list of the books that fueled my new obsession with thrillers, click here.