This was a charming little book by a farmer I know from the west side of Oregon, Katie Kulla.
Parenting books can be difficult because parents tend to be exhausted, and advice and ideas are need, but there is no quiet, peaceful time to read! However, this book is easy to read, easy to digest, and it is informative, without making readers feel guilty or overwhelmed. It’s more like, “Hey, it’s good for kids walk go outside and walk on uneven ground.” Then, readers can feel good about letting their kid walk on uneven surfaces, play in dirt, or feel the sun on their skin once in awhile. It’s simple, basic stuff. It’s reaffirming, and I found it to be inspiring and encouraging.
I was also heartened to read that there are many different families, scenarios, and “farms” depicted, so that a broad range of readers might identify with the lives and lifestyles of these people. Go order Farm-Raised Kids by Katie Kulla now!
A few weeks ago, as we approached the end of 2024, I began looking back through old photos, and I was surprised to see just how much I did this year: a winter break in Idaho, a springtime trip to Louisiana, some good summer fun in Idaho; a epic trip to the Oregon coast; and then up to Guemes Island in the San Juans for a beautiful wedding, and then back through the state of Washington; and finally a trip to Palm Springs, before buckling up for the marathon of end-of-year holiday festivities.
In 2023, I started exercising a bit, but in 2024 I actually got strong. I ran two 5ks and one 10k, and even ran a PR (post high school) in one of the 5ks at 26.29 minutes, which is not fast, for the record, but felt good and fast in my body, and I was 5th in my category!
I loved my little farm, I sheared my little sheep, and I watched the northern night sky light up with aurora borealis. I put together a two-story playhouse, made what is becoming an annual pilgrimage to Yellowstone (especially Lake Isa), watched rodeos, and entered my homegrown raspberries in the county fair. I got two new chicks, hatched from my hen’s own fertilized eggs, so now I have three: the original hen and her two black and white-laced daughters. Hopefully I’ll get my first eggs from them in 2025.
Through it all I also worked on several major work-related writing projects and one major creative project, which I hope will soon see the light of day, so that I can share them with everyone! I also read many lovely books.
As this year comes to an end, I also find myself at the end of a nine year in numerology. I can see some obvious themes and projects wrapping up in my life, but if the upcoming one year is anything like my last one year, it will be full of big, transformative life changes that I can’t yet fully see now. There’s a lot to like about life right now, but I’m trying to work on embracing the inevitable changes and growth that come my way.
Here’s my 2024 reading list! I cannot believe that I read over 40 books! I felt like I read much more last year, and yet somehow I came out ahead. This year there were also several months in a row when I did not read anything (except for work). Despite this year’s quantity, I still count the previous year, 2023, as one of the best reading years of my life. That’s the year I discovered Elena Ferrante! Still, I read some delightful books this year. Siddhartha was excellent. The Lost Journals of Sacajawea was mind-altering. Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead was a quirky delight.
I’m not sure there’s anything left for me to say that hasn’t already been said about Miranda July’s new book, All Fours, but I read it and so I’ll try to say something here. First, I always really appreciate July’s work and read it when I get the chance. She offers some great insights on the human condition and pairs it with lots of absurd, disgusting, and confusing action. Furthermore, for a bestseller, I can guarantee the writing will not be bad, and that’s more than I can say for a lot of bestsellers.
What I think it so important about the book, and what has given it all of this #allfoursgroupchat energy is that the the book tackles aging; emotional labor, especially in heterosexual relationships; and some of the physical changes and hormonal shifts women experience in their 40s and 50s. There are so many unique and terrible aspects of this reality that July captured accurately for me. I really appreciated that she gave it voice.
There are also many details seemingly based on some real events from her own life. This makes the book all the more engaging and compelling. The conclusion of the book does even more to mirror real life as the main character goes on book tour, except you know July hasn’t gone on tour yet before she’s done writing. It’s just a very unique way to end a book.
Overall, I know some readers won’t be able to handle this book because it is a lot. July’s work usually is. But, some of us will, and I hope that those of us who do like this book will be able to find that group chat.
For the last decade or so, I’ve had a heightened interest in Elvis. What a legend! I love his staying power. I love his unique voice. I love the performance of it all. I especially love this song that totally melts my face.
So when I found out that Riley Keough and Lisa Marie Presley had written a memoir, I could not wait to read it. I was really hoping that Lisa Marie would have narrated her part, but it was read by Riley and Julia Roberts, and that was good too. Julia Roberts has a subtle Southern accent that really piques the imagination. There are also a few excerpts from Lisa Marie, and that is very satisfying.
Overall, From Here to the Great Unknown is an excellent book. Lisa Marie’s life was incredibly intense and full of tragedy, and the book portrays much of that in extreme detail. I learned new things. The descriptions of Graceland were incredible that I felt like I was there. Now I really want to visit Graceland!
I’m not quite sure when I first became aware of The Barefoot Contessa (and Ina Garten), but it seems as though I’ve watched her forever on TV. I’ve always been drawn to her husky, steady voice, her cheery, but steadfast demeanor, and the aesthetic of her work–the food and ambiance. I also just love that name–Barefoot Contessa. So when she finally wrote her memoir, Be Ready When the Luck Happens, I knew I wanted to read it.
The book is great, and her life is really fascinating. I was surprised to see the degree to which a feminist ideology ran through her story, through her life, and her choices. I found that I identified strongly with that aspect of her work.
However, I also noticed an incredible financial privilege and security that mostly goes without comment in the book. She is honest about times when she needed $100K for a building or a project. So it seems as though they were not super wealthy, but she definitely has always had access to circles that could help support her success. I’m sure some might think more commentary on that aspect of her life would have seemed uncouth, but I actually think her readers could handle more candid commentary on what the financial security felt like. For example, she writes about her uncertainty and turning down projects. But, interestingly, she was in a position to turn down work, and, well, that’s quite an interesting place of privilege.
Overall, it’s a great memoir, and I adore her even more. Now I’m going back to look at all of the beautiful cookbooks she’s created over the years too.
I just finished the beautiful, haunting, absurd, and magitragic novel, The Seas, by Samantha Hunt. This is a book with a rich sense of place, compelling characters, and layers upon layers of themes and possible meanings, which shoot out in every direction.
At times, while reading, I had some judgement about the contemporary’s literary community’s dealings of mental illness. So often, it seems, authors borrow symptoms in ways that do not always feel ethical to me, but instead are used to shock and awe. However, by the end of this novel, Hunt had really earned it, in my opinion, and was able to demonstrate a deeper meaning and a broader purpose in her depiction of this strange and mesmerizing mermaid main character.
We’re nearing the end of the reading year now, and I’ll count this one among my favorites.
The beginning of this book was not what I expected. The middle part, however, was. I expected Prairie, Dresses, Art, Other by Danielle Dutton to be much more theoretical (and it was!), but the first few chapters threw me. In a good way. The first few chapters were even scary!
This book reminds me of some of Maggie Nelson’s recent stuff, but this book of Dutton’s has more imagery, perhaps even more narrative, throughout than Nelson’s most recent, On Freedom, for example. Both are from Coffee House Press, which continues to publish all of the best stuff that the mainstream publishers are afraid of.
I’m grateful for Dorothy, A Publishing Project for breathing life back into this 1954 gem by Barbara Comyns, entitled Who Was Changed and Who Was Dead. The title alone got my attention, and the rest of the book did not disappoint either. It is a great narrative, that paints a bizarre, almost mystical crisis within a small town. Comyns portrays all of human ugliness with great humor and insight. The imagery is also beautifully done.
Interestingly, I started the year with an Agatha Christie murder mystery, and there is something I really appreciate about this era of writing. It is very straightforward, but that close and careful approach also highlights the intentional writing and brings the descriptions into greater focus.
I don’t read a lot of poetry, but recently picked up The Virginia State Colony for Epileptics and Feebleminded by Molly McCully Brown, and I’m so glad I did. I first read Molly McCully Brown when someone shared a link to an article she had written. I was blown away by the quality of the writing then. I follow her socials, and see that we know some people in common. So, I follow her work. In fact, I thought for sure that I had already read The Virginia State Colony for Epileptics and Feebleminded, but once I picked it up, I realized I had not. I would have remembered!
This is an excellent book of poetry. The whole project really needs to be poetry, and I like that about it, and I think nonpoetry readers (beyond popular poetry, anyway) will find this book to be a bit more accessible, and still completely artful. It reads up quickly. It does not need to be belabored. It just exists, and it is good. Go read it.
Molly McCully Brown won the Lexi Rudnitsky First Book Prize The Virginia State Colony for Epileptics and Feebleminded
SHEREWIN 