I liked this book much more than I thought I would! I received it last year as a reward for backing a literary Kickstarter (#ReadThisNext) and it sat on my shelf for a while (maybe the cover wasn't very inviting to the likes of me?). Anyway, I thoroughly enjoyed the voice of TifAni FaNelli. Her cool disdain and the slow revealing of her past are all masterfully written. So many feelings about being the new girl in high school, the awful things people do, and the way it can all manifest later in life. I knew little about this book beforehand, and I think that might be the best way to read it. I kind of want a sequel? Where is Ani now? I started out kind of on edge about her, but by the end I loved her.

I love this series so much. I feel completely involved in the lives of Lenu, Lila, the neighborhood, etc. At times during this volume I felt a bit distanced by the description of the political climate of Italy in the 1970s, but as always I'm sucked into the story again through Lenu's observations.

I think the beginning was a wonderful explanation of the inner workings of why Ferrante the author wants to remain anonymous. It's laid out pretty succinctly as we see Lenu struggle with the publication of her novel and having to field all the questions about something that should be able to speak for itself. It creates such anxiety for her and also a version of herself that she feels she must fulfill - a noted/celebrated author.

Later in the book I related so well to Lenu's struggle to be creative while also being a mother and a wife. She has no time to write. It makes sense that when Nino ambles back into the story and tells her husband to give up his time so that she may write that she once again feels that love for him she did when she was a teenager. But UGH, that ending! I said out loud "WHAT THE F*CK LENU" as the ending unfolded. I read this volume pretty slowly but the last 10% of the book I read in one sitting because I couldn't believe what was happening.

Nino Sarratore is The. Worst. and Lenu, Lenu, I can't believe you...

It took some time to adjust to the staccato of Groff's sentences, but those sentences are quite lovely. I learned some new words; I used the dictionary feature on my kindle for the first time. Couple new vocabulary with trying to remember Greek mythological references, sometimes the book made me feel a bit dim, but I gave in to the ride.

And the ride is a bit slow to begin; it took me a week to read the first half, Lotto's half, and only two days to finish the second half which centered on his wife Mathilde. The book feels uneven because of this; Mathilde is so unknown to the reader (and Lotto!) in the first half, and she comes to life in the second half through a series of plot twists that unpack everything in Lotto's section. It's great narrative work, and I admire it even if the characters still seemed a bit distant and hard to grasp wholly.

This book was meandering in the most beautiful way possible. It made me smile and want to hang out with Patti Smith, but not want to mess with her love of solitude. It made me start writing again, because Patti's words can inspire that kind of behavior. It's not much like Just Kids, which is one of my favorite books, but her poetic voice is still there, she's just not telling a straight story about a portion of her life. She's so earnest and caring about her own creative inspirations, and I love that since I consider her one of mine.

Also, she really loved The Killing.

I loved this novel. Published in 1950, the narrator Sophia is a young artist in London and falls in with a fellow artist; they marry and in doing so, he loses his allowance. She writes in first-person about marriage, poverty, and giving birth. There is a note at the beginning of the novel that most is fiction, but chapters 10-12 are true. Well, those chapters are about giving birth in a pre-war London hospital and they are terrifying. I wanted to hug and hold Sophia so many times while reading. She does her best; I understand where she's coming from (others may not understand some of her decisions or actions...). I read this a lot in the middle of the night while nursing my baby, and I won't lie--there were times I cried and felt a connection to this (somewhat fictional) narrator in the wee hours.

Throughout the novel, the writing felt familiar, but I couldn't pinpoint that feeling. Towards the end I realized it reads almost like modern-day confessional, as if someone was posting these chapters as entries on a livejournal maybe. It's self-reflective, naive-sounding, but the writing is superb and its brilliance subtle: I have a new book to add to my favorites.

Also, Charles was the f*ck*ng worst.

A quick-witted collection of short stories; a slew of portraits of odd girls out. The stories are funny and weird and sometimes disturbing, but I enjoyed what felt like a very different sort of collection. I haven't come across many characters like these girls in fiction.

I delved into this novel knowing about the Manson angle, and was wonderfully surprised by the story of Evie Boyd, both as a 14-year-old navigating what lays next in her future and as an older woman reflecting on that younger self. The inner workings of Evie felt all too true as her teenage self; Cline writes her so well. There was something 'quiet' about the way this was written that I thoroughly loved, even though murder and sex and cults were all present. Cline painted a portrait that muted the horror and focused on the girl caught up in it, and what happened to her. Her observations about girlhood throughout the novel also kept me hooked. I'm looking forward to more from Cline.

While reading I was sometimes reminded of Phoebe Gloeckner's The Diary of a Teenage Girl, though their tones are so incredibly different. They just feel like two works that really capture what being a teenage girl is like (and, I suppose, they both are set in the late '60s/70s).

I'm a huge Sleater-Kinney fan and was looking forward to reading this; there were so many surprises. I remember listening to SK in my bedroom in high school and dancing around and having many wonderful memories associated with this band but I never knew too much background besides their riot grrl/Northwest scene associations. I'm so happy to learn more about Carrie and the band; I loved the chapters that were histories of each album. As someone who is married to a touring musician, so much rang true and seemed universal to the lifestyle. It's funny how surprised I was to learn they hadn't toured in a bus until late in their career; I was in high school in the late 90s thinking this band was huge and probably rich and living rockstar lives. That said, I know that my husband gets the same thoughts from some of their fans. Carrie is a wonderful writer, too. 4.5/5.

Pride and Prejudice is probably my most re-read book. I know it (and the mini-series/movies) pretty well. However, I never dove into any of the fan fiction or 'Death Comes to Pemberley' stuff, though I did enjoy P&P&Zombies for a laugh. I pre-ordered Eligible based on the enthusiastic recommendation of several readers whose opinions I trust, and I was NOT disappointed.

Eligible translates Austen's classic from 1800s England to modern day America. Sittenfeld does a remarkable job of updating the characters and events; she remains true to the novel and expands on what Austen's themes mean today. It's fun and FUNNY and I still enjoy Elizabeth and her terrible family. The best part is that the romantic tension and beats between Elizabeth and Darcy are fully intact, even though courtship looks oh so different these days.

I haven't had this much joy reading a book and not wanting it to end in quite a while. (But I read a lot of not light/depressing stuff, so...). I think a re-read of Austen's original is in order soon...and I will also probably re-read this, too.

Re-read 7/20: I needed a fun, summer read after reading a bunch of dystopia (including the news) and I loved it all over again.

A very short haunting read. The repetition works to brilliant effect; I shivered several times while reading about this girl trapped in a car sinking into a body of water. The story is a fictionalized account of the Chappaquiddick incident... it's sad, terrifying, and does not hold back from making The Senator the monster of this tale.