What I Read This Month

Plus some ***thoughts*** on anxiety + reading.

A Frenchman in Carolina.

Happy early Fourth of July, internet people! Today, I have something to confess to you: Reading has been hard for me recently. I’ll pick up a book, and I’ll find that my mind begins whirring like one of those little conveyor belts with sushi on it. I’ll start thinking about work, or money, or why I seem to now, as an adult-ass woman, finally have acne, or that time in second grade I forgot to change into my bathing suit and walked out of the locker room to the pool in my Talbots Kids underwear, and then I’ll realize five minutes have gone by and I’ve just been staring at my Kindle, not reading anything. And then I’ll pick up Instagram and watch videos of French bulldogs chasing minnows in baby pools instead, and all of a sudden, it’s time to go to bed. And then the same thing happens all over again the next night. 

I’ve found that whenever I have these kinds of attention-span attacks, where my brain desperately wants to just scroll through some stupid shit online instead of reading or thinking, it usually means my anxiety is flaring up big time. I know, I know—it feels very world’s tiniest violin to talk about having bad anxiety because, really, it’s the year 2023, and who isn’t stumbling around under pounds of existential dread on a daily basis like a tween with an overloaded JanSport? But still, it’s true: I have horrendous anxiety, which sometimes makes it hard for me to focus, which in turn makes it hard for me to write or read, which in turn makes me feel bad about myself. The entire thing is all very healthy and productive, as you can tell. 

The point of me going all BetterHelp on you is to tell you this: I imagine you’re reading this because you are a reader of books. And maybe, like me, you are the type of reader who beats themselves up when they aren’t “reading enough,” whatever that means. But I am trying to remind myself, through reminding you, that it’s okay to have dry spells. Reading is meant to be pleasurable and exciting and transportive; if it doesn’t feel that way, take a break until it does. The book will still be there. 

While I’m at the beach this week, I’m hoping to get through my own little rut by finishing Black Cake, which is great, and then entering my horny dragon era by starting the much-buzzed-about viral hit Fourth Wing. So much about this book’s description makes me simultaneously cringe and lol (if anyone’s mastered the art of sounding like a normal adult when telling others you’re reading a smutty book about a magical academy for dragon-riders, please, fill me in), but I’ve heard it’s better than ACOTAR from some highly trusted and equally nerdy sources, so I’m ready. 

But let’s get to it—books!  

Over Memorial Day weekend, I was in the mood for something light and rom com-y: Enter How to Fake It in Hollywood by Ava Wilder. It follows a rising actress and an über-famous actor as they pretend to date to rehab their images. And, well, you can guess what happens here. This was a fun escape—Hollywood! Palm Springs! Glitzy parties!—but it also surprisingly had a more serious theme of addiction running throughout. The book chronicles the very-famous-actor-man’s battle with substance abuse and how it affects their relationship. So, trigger warning for that, but if you’re looking for a fun, beach-y book that has some depth to it, this is a good one.

I am here to tell you that Hello Beautiful by Ann Napolitano is worth the hype. (I mean, I genuinely liked it, but also, who am I to question something Oprah Winfrey has decreed worthy????) It tells the story of four sisters growing up in Chicago who all become entwined with one boy-man who affects their lives in very significant ways. The writing was beautiful, and the author’s descriptions of family relationships and the pain that people who know each other best can inflict upon one another were poignant. This was my first time reading something by Napolitano, and she reminded me a lot of Ann Patchett. It’s definitely something of an opus—it’s 400 pages—and I will say that, toward the end, I was kind of reaching “Okay, let’s wrap it up here, people” status. But that also was likely a me problem (see above), not a this-book problem.

Holy shit, did I love Big Swiss by Jen Beagin!!!!!! Man, the writing in this book just melted my face off—Beagin is incredibly talented and laugh-out-loud funny and utterly bizarre in the best possible way. The novel is about a woman who transcribes therapy sessions for twee hipsters in Hudson and becomes obsessed with one of the patients. She figures out who the woman is, and then they strike up an affair—all while said woman has no idea this other woman is listening to her secret-spilling in therapy. Fair warning, this likely won’t be for everyone—it’s definitely of the messy, irreverent female protagonist genre. But if you liked books like Nightbitch, Animal, or My Year of Rest and Relaxation, you’ll likely dig this. 

Central Places by Delia Cai is about a 20-something woman who brings her fiance from New York to her small, rural Midwestern hometown to meet her Chinese immigrant parents. It’s a nice twist on the classic “small town, big fish” plot: I found the descriptions of the protagonist’s experience growing up Chinese-American in a very white town to be super fascinating and compelling, as well as the scenes depicting her strained relationship with her parents. Come for the family drama, stay for a big serving of mid-20s self-discovery.

(And, if you’re taking a little brain-break from reading, I would suggest watching season two of The Bear or the HBO show The Other Two, which I just discovered and is totally, completely hilarious.)

That’s all for this week’s Fully Booked—I’ll be back in July with an author Q&A!

<333333 Mimi