musing on Edward Abbey

I’ve been thinking a lot about Edward Abbey recently, as you know. I’m currently reading his Down the River, a collection of essays, as well as Cahalan’s biography, Edward Abbey: A Life, so I’m a little immersed. My fascination with him is recent, and I have a long way to go in studying him, but that’s the exciting thing about discovering an author you love, especially when that author was prolific enough to keep you busy for a while, which Abbey was. (I guess it would be even better if he were alive and still writing.) I’ve read only four (Down the River makes five) of his 25 books (I’m using this bibliography), and I’m already holding a second book about him, his friend Peacock’s memoir Walking It Off. It’s exciting to know there’s that much more to read by and about him. Heck, I haven’t read everything I want to read by and about Hemingway yet, and I’ve spent years studying him.

I’m contemplating why I’m so interested in him. I love his writing, of course. But there are other authors whose writing I admire whom I fail to get interested in as individuals. Authors of fiction often are able to stay separated from their work, of course, unless their fiction becomes very autobiographical – which was true of both Abbey and Hemingway. The fact that he writes nonfiction, and autobiographical fiction, makes Abbey the man play a significant role in my reading of him, obviously. And Abbey is fascinating because he’s sympathetic, yes – meaning I agree with many of his politics and values and emotional reactions to the world – but he’s also fascinating because he’s nuanced, complex, contradictory, and not 100% sympathetic. The most fascinating figures, to me, are those that we cannot wholeheartedly and completely endorse. Hemingway, Hefner, Harry Hughes (I haven’t read it yet, but one of my favorite library patrons has been raving about the apparently fascinating and weird biography of Hughes we have here), Lillian Hellman whose new biography by Alice Kessler-Harris I found so wonderful, and my oldest, best friend, are all complex personalities, very different from one another, but somehow similar in their contradictions.

Of course, the more I read about Abbey, the more I see how similar he is to my longtime favorite, Ernest Hemingway. They were married four and fives times, respectively. Hemingway left each of his first three wives for the next; the fourth he left in death. Abbey left wives 1, 2 and 4 for 2, 3 and 5; his third wife died, and he left the fifth in death. Both were serially unfaithful. Both authors were aware that they had a gift, struggled with their writing which they took very seriously, rewriting repeatedly, working very hard on their craft; and both struggled with some form of depression and angst in the process. As perhaps is evidenced by their plentiful relations with the opposite sex, both were very charismatic men. Their writing styles bear a resemblance, as do their outward projections of themselves as masculine, hearty, strong, skilled with their hands. The biggest difference, the one that glares off the page at me as I read Abbey’s biography (which I’m not finished with yet, so take me with salt!) is the circumstances of their deaths. According to Wikipedia – since I’m not jumping ahead in my book – Abbey died from “complications from surgery; he suffered four days of esophageal hemorrhaging, due to esophageal varices, a recurrent problem with one group of veins.” This is a far cry from Hemingway’s demise, from a self-inflicted double-barreled shotgun blast to the forehead. I can’t tell you how relieved I am to be focused on a literary hero whose life, for all its tragedies, excludes the unique tragedy of suicide.

I’m very much enjoying getting immersed in the life of this prickly, unique, humorous and passionate man whose work I very much admire. And I’m struck by the fact that all those adjectives could apply to my first literary obsession, Papa. Who have you been stuck on lately, and why?

reasons why we read what we read

Do you ever think about how you make your choices? I know my fellow book bloggers do: they list the books they’ve picked up and note that this one was mentioned by their favorite author or that one biographies a figure they find relevant for a certain reason. Many times we make reading choices conscious of our reasons, even consciously pursuing new directions: feeling the need to read more diverse authors, read more women, more nonfiction, learn about a subject, or follow an interest inspired by… any number of things, really. Oftentimes my future reading is guided by my past reading. Hemingway has inspired my reading of so many of his contemporaries, for example. The Hellman biography I’m reading now is taking me in so many nonfiction directions; I want to read more about the several waves of the labor movement, for example, and the several waves of communism (and Communism) in the U.S. after reading about Hellman.

But I don’t think we always make our reading choices for conscious reasons. We absolutely do judge a book by its cover sometimes, or cover blurb: a Lee Child blurb will always catch my eye, rightfully or wrongfully (is he being paid for it?). In the library where I work, I see people make reading choices based on their covers regularly. Covers are especially good indicators in romance and so-called chick lit (don’t blame me, I didn’t name it). And while I’m on the subject of the library, this question – how we choose our reading, and whether we’re aware of it – is especially pertinent to readers’ advisory services, where we recommend reading based on what the patron has enjoyed in the past. Joyce Saricks (who doesn’t seem to have a website! but is the author of several books on the subject – go look her up, she’s wonderful) articulates the need for understanding why certain books appeal to us, for reasons outside of subject. For example, a reader is not necessarily interested especially in reading books about murder cases in Los Angeles; she might be more interested in the mood, the atmosphere, the psychological background, even the writing style exemplified by Michael Connelly. All of this means thinking about why we like certain books.

How about for purposes of travel? My parents do a lot of this when they travel. There is the reading of guidebooks, of course, but to me that’s a chore, part of trip planning. The real fun is in reading the history of the place, or fiction set there, and that’s very much at the forefront of some of the reading I’m doing these days, too. Our upcoming trip to the Gila came more or less out of a book – Fire Season – and in planning for that trip I’ve been looking at some reading in turn. Aldo Leopold’s A Sand Country Almanac is on the list, as well as a book I recently made a trip to go view (more on that in a day or two), Some Recollections of a Western Ranchman by William French. And for an upcoming trip to Ireland, I am accepting two books from my mom and my buddy Barrett (who’s going to Ireland with Husband and I, what fun!): one fiction, one nonfiction, I told them. Because of course I’m very busy reading all the Edward Abbey I can find (which interest also came from Fire Season), and I have a stack of books for review from Shelf Awareness, too. That’s another motivator to read specific books: because I have book reviews due!

So I’m looking at the stack of books on my desk right now, and it’s composed like so: two books recommended by a friend (one a gift from same); one sent by an author; eleven from Shelf Awareness, awaiting consideration for review; one biography of an author I admire, checked out from local library; one memoir of a friend of same author; two Ireland travel books; one book by an old favorite author; two books just arrived in my library (where I work) that I’m interested in. I think these represent a variety of reasons why I read what I read.

Why do YOU read what you read?

And for another post – feel free to write this one! – having discussed why we read what we read, the larger question: why do we read? That might be a longer post. 🙂

digest version Sunday Salon on a Monday

Sunday Salon: March 5, 2012

Hey, kids! Sorry to be a little hectic and brief here (and a day late with my Salon) on this Monday morning. I had a pleasantly full weekend: got our taxes files, did a few bike rides including a visit to the trails at the Sam Houston National Forest at Huntsville State Park, cleaned the house a bit and cooked up some yummy collard greens… I also watched the Bogart & Bacall film To Have and Have Notbased on the Hemingway novel of the same name. This was a Christmas present from my Pops (thanks, Pops!) and I’m glad I finally got around to it; there will be a movie review to come later this week, I promise. But in a nutshell, good stuff! And I wish I were a little fresher on the novel in my mind; I’m definitely rusty.

What else? Well, I’m still reading A Difficult Woman, Alice Kessler-Harris’s upcoming biography of Lillian Hellman, and that is still fascinating. I put down Ed Abbey’s Down the River to meet my deadline on the Hellman bio, and I’m itching to get back it; but then again, I’m running low on Abbey books on hand, so it makes sense to drag out the enjoyment a little bit. And I’m also just about done with Anne Fortier’s Julieton audio. I’m conflicted. I’m more annoyed than anything else, really, but occasionally fascinated, and for better or worse, I’m too invested in the story to back out now. So that’s not a ringing endorsement, but there we are. Reviews all around to come. Oh, and I had a nice visit to a beautiful library on Saturday that I’ll have to tell you about, too.

Finally, check out my new friend over at Critical Wit where I may be doing some guest hosting at some point – very exciting! Thanks Chris for the invitation!

The other busyness this weekend relates to the planning of more busyness: we’re currently working on two trips, to Ireland and to the Gila National Forest in New Mexico. Busy busy!

Sorry for the brief digest post this morning. How’s your week starting out?

looking back on early 2012… looking forward to a new trend

As I wrote at the beginning of the calendar year, I am moving away from challenges and lists and readalongs this year, hoping to follow more truly my reading urges, ideally with an emphasis on my TBR list(s) and shelf (shelves). Well, here we are two months (more or less) into 2012, and I see my reading urges taking shape. I wanted to share what I’m observing, and what I’m looking forward to.

First, what’s happened in the last eight weeks? I’ve read 25 books (wow! that many? really?), but I haven’t had really excellent luck. I really loved eight of them, which is a scant third: not very good stats. I loved:

If you have noticed a pattern above, so have I: I am leaning heavily towards a certain two bearded men whose first names start with ‘E’. (On a personal note, I have been toying pictorially with the three bearded men in my life…)

Ernest Hemingway, Edward Abbey, and my Bearded Husband


My newfound (or newly recovered) interest in Abbey has come out of my love of Philip Connors’s Fire Season, which I called my favorite book of 2011. I’m still not done being moved by it; Husband is actually reading it himself (a truly momentous occurrence), I am planning a reread at the earliest available moment, and we’re planning a summer trip to the Gila National Forest itself, possibly even to meet the author who has graciously been corresponding with me and overlooking my rabid fandom. The unfortunate coincidence of Fire Season‘s publication with the worst drought in Texas’s history, and a series of wildfires including one that touched my family, has had me thinking about some of the themes involved. I’ve read a few other pieces of nature writing this year (Liebenow’s Mountains of Light and March’s River in Ruin – both lovely, and both reviews to come in Shelf Awareness). But mostly I’ve been revisiting Abbey himself, who represents the epitome of nature writing, at least for me in my not-very-well-read experience. I can’t begin to go into what his writing does for me at this moment; that’s another blog post. But he makes me laugh, and cry, and think and feel, and plan trips. I am trying to take to heart his exhortation to “get out there and hunt and fish and mess around with your friends, ramble out yonder and explore the forests, encounter the grizz, climb the mountains, bag the peaks. Run the rivers, breathe deep of that yet sweet and lucid air, sit quietly for a while and comtemplate the precious stillness, that lovely, mysterious and awesome space. Enjoy yourselves…”

And Connors, and Abbey, are shaping my reading, too, of course. I’m working on building my collection of Abbey’s books, and a few books about him; I have Aldo Leopold’s A Sand Country Almanac coming to my local library; and I have my eye on Muir, although with a few reservations. (I did love his Stickeen as a child. If you see it, grab it.) I have a few books on New Mexico and the Gila coming, too, to help plan our trip this summer.

Again, my thoughts on Abbey are large and evolving, and I’m not feeling worthy of trying to communicate them today. But I’m working on it.

And then there’s the other bearded man. I do have still a handful of Hemingway works on his little shelf that I haven’t read; and I have several biographies of him and other related fiction and nonfiction. My love for Hemingway has not faded yet.

So I guess what I’m trying to say, very long-windedly, is that I am finding great joy in my reading these days by focusing on a few areas that are holding my interest: mainly, two authors I greatly respect, and the writings about and surrounding them. I hope to delve more deeply into Abbey (and similar) and Hemingway, as 2012 rolls on by. Of course my reviews for Shelf Awareness continue; but they take 3-4 reviews a month from me, and that makes up a minority of my reading, so I have time to do my own thing. There will always be some variety, too – this weekend I checked out the new Girl Reading by Katie Ward just because it looked good – but I am doing pretty well at putting down the books that don’t work for me, because I know there’s lots more Abbey et al out there for me.

A Walk About Town: Nashville

A Walk About Town is hosted by Natalie over at Coffee and a Book Chick.

Y’all, I had the *BEST* time last weekend! Husband and I flew to Nashville on Friday afternoon to catch not one, but two back-to-back concerts by our favorite band, the Drive-by Truckers. And not only were the shows great, but we found the city to be very pleasant and attractive (although cold), and with some neat things to see, too.

For example: did you know that Nashville is “the Athens of the South”? I didn’t. We visited Centennial Park, the setting for the Tennessee Centennial Exposition of 1897 (the state’s 100th anniversary was actually in 1896, but it took them a little while to get the fairgrounds together!) – think Chicago World Fair (of the same time period) but on a statewide scale. They had a great many exhibits, including an Indian Village and a Chinese Village, etc. which would not pass PC-muster in modern times; and the park is still lovely today. But the real draw for me was the Parthenon. That’s right, Nashville boasts the world’s only full-size replica of the Parthenon of Athens.

Nashville's Parthenon in Centennial Park


After the Exposition, it was allowed to crumble and decay, ivy crawling up its walls, but they later restored it and just in the last 15 years built their full-size replica of the 43-foot-tall statue of Athena that resides within, making it a still more faithful copy. Also within are replicas (also full-size) of the fragments of the pediments of Athens’ Parthenon; the originals now reside at the British Museum. I am a fan of Ancient Greece, and this was an absolute treat for me. Husband was patient with me and even found it a little bit interesting himself I think!

the western pediment depicts Athena battling Poseidon for the right to patronage of this new city. (guess who won)


the eastern pediment depicts Athena's birth - you recall, she sprang fully-clothed and arms from the head of her father, Zeus.


the statue of Athena. they are careful to explain that the gaudy face paint and gold leaf is believed to be historically accurate.

the statue of Athena. they are careful to explain that the gaudy face paint and gold leaf is believed to be historically accurate.


And finally, the rest of the park was a nice outdoor space but not so pleasant while we were there at just-below-freezing temperatures and a biting wind. The Canadian geese (accompanied by mallards in the scenic waterway) did not mind so much.

Canadian geese - they let us get very close. quite tame, of course. I'm sure they're fed by a lot of tourists


can I show you one more picture of the Parthenon?


From Centennial Park we moved on to Antique Archeology. If the Parthenon was my choice, this one was Husband’s; he’s a fan of the show American Pickers, and this is one of several (I think) of their stores where they sell the goods they “pick.” It was funny to see the scene; what presumably used to be an antique shops or good-junk shop is now kind of a theme park for fans of the show. One whole wall is t-shirts. It was packed (on a Saturday – of course) and we didn’t stay long but Husband got a souvenir koozie and we had a nice chat with an employee. Here is Husband’s arty shot of the window sign:
just don't look if it hurts your face

just don’t look if it hurts your face


The building it was in was really cool.
Marathon Automobiles houses Antique Archeology

Marathon Automobiles houses Antique Archeology


From there we needed a break, so hit up Blackstone Brewery, where we had several good beers and a great lunch. Our bartender, Chris, was very friendly, and I do appreciate a chatty bartender as Husband can attest. It was a perfect way to warm up and while away our afternoon before napping and heading out for live music. Look, they even have a little library nook!

lovely! no actually we sat at the bar.


I did get around to reviewing the pub on Beer Advocate, where I’ve gotten lazy and done less reviewing in recent years. I don’t know if you can still view reviews there without logging in, though. It’s free to set up an account, but not everyone will want to. Try here and let me know. If you’re looking around, I’m texashammer and mine will presumably be the most recent Blackstone review at least for a little while.

But what of the live music, you say? That was our whole original reason for being there! I don’t really have too many pictures to share from that part of the weekend, for one thing, but I’ll tell you the story (and save the best picture for last).

We saw both shows at the Cannery Ballroom, which despite getting mixed reviews we found a great place all around. Beers are waaay cheaper than at the House of Blues in Houston where the Truckers have been playing every time they’ve been to town in recent years. (Boo hiss HOB.) The sound was good. (I finally remembered my ear-plugs on the second night!) Friday night’s opening act, Nikki Lane, was great – a country singer-songwriter with a gender-equal band and kind of a loungey feel to her twang. Saturday night’s opener was The Bobby Keys Band, and they were rad, too. The Truckers absolutely killed it; these were two of the better shows I’ve seen despite Cooley being (ahem) a little buzzed on Friday night. Both nights they played us an encore that must have been 30 minutes long – a real treat. My only complaint is the 9 or 10 songs I counted that we heard both nights. This is a band with too much material – even having lost bassist and songwriter Shonna Tucker recently (sob!) – to give us repeat material. But they’re all good songs. (If you want to hear about the night from someone with better rock-show vocabulary than I have, there’s a pretty good article here.)

And here is the highlight: both nights I hung around after and got to talk to steel guitarist Johnny Neff, and he was so nice! People, I tell you I’ve been milling about after these shows for years, and this was my first reward. On Saturday night he even let me take a picture with him!

me with steel guitarist John Neff!


Johnny! Thanks for taking the time to talk to me. Keep up the good work!

Sorry for the long post but what a super great weekend I had. Thanks for the Valentine’s Day present, darlin! We love Nashville and I can’t wait to go back. Anybody else get up to anything cool this week?

Sunday Salon

Sunday Salon: February 5, 2012


How’s everybody doing this weekend? Houston is having a recurrence of an old event we used to see around here back in the day. It’s been raining! I did some internet research the other day and learned that our annual rainfall is right around 50 inches; in 2011, Houston’s driest year on record, we had about 20 inches, of which we had seen only 12 by mid-October. It was those 8 inches in the last 10 weeks of the year that managed to bring us up to the still shockingly (record-breaking-ly) low number of 20. So far in 2012 we are close to 10 inches, which has come in a handful of one-day downpours. All of this is to say… 1) rain is very exciting for us these days; 2) Houstonians seem to have forgotten how to drive in the rain; 3) this is wonderful for our poor parched earth (gardens, farms/ranches, mountain bike trails, trees – of which we’re losing some 70 MILLION – you read that right – due to last year’s drought) but also 4) it’s wrecking my weekend. You see, I’ve been working on recovering from my knee surgery (in December) and hoping to make my comeback to mountain bike racing at the end of this month, and my training time is so precious to me… especially since we’ll be in Nashville next weekend to see our favorite band play two nights in a row! (Very exciting! Look for a Walk About Town post to follow that trip, hopefully.) So losing both days of intended mountain biking this weekend to rain is really bumming me out. I’m trying to stay positive and think of how much the whole city needs this rain, and be happy with yoga, the gym, and my shortened road ride yesterday. :-/

Weather aside, what’s going on? Well, I’m getting some reading done this weekend. (That’s the upside to all the rain.) I feel like I’ve spent all my reading time lately on books for review for Shelf Awareness, and none on pleasure reading; and all my audiobook listening time for weeks now has gone to Anna Karenina, which is a huge time commitment. So it was nice to pick up a few quick reads this weekend: Hemingway’s On Paris, for one – always nice to return to an old favorite – and then Edward Abbey’s The Journey Home. Abbey is an old favorite, too, and this is a gem; I’ve had such fun with it, including reading one short piece out loud to Husband and laughing out loud at it together. Good times. Reviews to come on both of these.

The weekend digest is rather boring, I guess: it rained, I didn’t get to ride like I wanted to, but I read some good short books. In the coming week I’ll be simultaneously prepping for our trip to Nashville and my upcoming race that I don’t feel prepared for! What are you up to this weekend? And what are you reading?

two-wheeled thoughts: Robert Penn

two-wheeled thoughts

You make a covenant with a bike like this – to ride it, and to look after it for as long as it bears you away to a refuge far from the present.

Robert Penn, It’s All About the Bike

Mmm. I’m feeling this one. Last summer I replaced all three of my mountain bikes with 29ers (learn more here), including my Best Bike to Date, a titanium hardtail. And then I hurt my thumb, and then I hurt my knee, and then I had all that time off the bike and then knee surgery, and I am feeling badly about neglecting ALL the bikes. I hope to be back on top of said covenant soon. Thanks again Pops for the inspiring quotations!

A Walk About Town: Columbus and San Antonio, Texas

A Walk About Town is a meme hosted by Natalie over at Coffee and a Book Chick.

Last weekend, Husband and I took a trip out to San Antonio, just because. It was a fairly uneventful weekend for us, in all the right ways.

First we headed out to my family’s country home near Columbus, Texas, for Friday night. I don’t suppose I shared this information here at the time, but back in early September it burned in one of the many wildfires Texas has experienced during this year of record-setting drought. Here’s what I wrote at the time to share with friends & family when we visited to survey the damage:

From the rumors we’d heard, we expected to find scorched earth, flattened, lunar – and it wasn’t that bad at all, so I guess the overall impression is a good one. Obviously we have been extremely lucky (I said, dodged a bullet and Husband said, more like a bomb), and some of our neighbors weren’t; driving in we saw several houses along our road that had burned down to the ground.

But, it was still hard to see the destruction. Our barn is a mess of sheet metal, with the burned-out tractor buried beneath it. Parts of our property are paved ankle-deep in ash, with a few big trees standing and no undergrowth. Parts seem virtually untouched. Most of it is in between, with greatly reduced undergrowth but many larger trees standing. We guess this is because the winds were high enough to take the fire through relatively quickly.

I’m an amateur at this stuff and have no idea how many of the larger scorched trees will live, but figure some, at least, should; and I know that ash can enrich the soil for the next generation of vegetation. I’m so relieved to see that we don’t now own a solid piece of bleak, sun-baked ash. I have hope for the relatively near future. And the fact that our house was saved is great. It reeks of smoke but the first time we can open it up for 48 hours should make great progress there – right?

Just want to say thank you to the fire crews who worked to save our house. Ours, and the nearest neighbors’, were both saved literally at the door step by their efforts. Many of our neighbors out there have their primary residences and means of livelihood on the land, which we didn’t, so clearly we’re far luckier than most.

We also packed up some clothes, toiletries, dry goods, and books to take to donate for those who lost their homes. It was surprisingly hard to find someone to take them in the town of Columbus; I think it took us 6 tries before we found a well-informed woman who said they had more than they could go through already (!) but directed us to the local radio station, who were filling a trailer to take to Bastrop. Bastrop lost many 1000’s of homes and we’re glad that our stuff will go somewhere where it’s needed.

It’s been kind of a disturbing thing to see but really, all the news is good where we’re concerned.

Several months later, we’re doing really well. Pops has replaced the tractor (insurance money!) and we’re about to break ground on the new barn. The house smells fine. The ground is green again just about everywhere. Still unclear on which and how many trees will survive, but really it’s going to be okay.

I took a few shots here (all clickable for larger views):

70-year-old pine, victim of drought, not fire


site of old barn with old tractor


There’s even some water in the pond again. (Not much.)

misty morning at very low pond

Saturday morning we headed on to San Antonio. When we first hit town we went straight to Freetail Brewing, a brewpub that Pops greatly admires. Unfortunately I took no pictures! But we had a lovely long lunch there, and sampled every beer they had on tap (no small feat at 14 beers – don’t worry, mostly we had little taster glasses). Our favorites were the Tadarida IPA (the hoppier of the two American-style IPAs available), the Rye Wit (just what it sounds; nice little peppery notes from the rye), and the Ate II (a sour wit with champagne yeast – yum!).

Then down into downtown San Antonio. We stayed just across the street from the Alamo, and walked the riverwalk.

bearded Husband on the riverwalk


night view


We were even happier when we found the quieter end of the riverwalk. The bar zone, at the center loop (see map here) resembles Bourbon Street in New Orleans or Duval Street in Key West or any other super-busy touristy bar zone, while the stretch up north was more the quiet, scenic stroll we were looking for.

the quieter end


We visited the Alamo during the day, right after checking in to the hotel, and it’s quite the hopping place; plenty of plaques and educational devices and exhibits, full of people of all ages and backgrounds (with the military very well-represented), and all free, which I think is great. Husband got the best picture after dark when heading back to the hotel:

Alamo at night

As I said, it was an uneventful weekend. We walked, looked around, ate and drank, and relaxed. Just what I needed: a little change of scenery.

Thanks Natalie for hosting! Maybe one of these days I’ll do a hometown Walk About Town… what is everybody else up to?

updating the TBR lists.

Following up on Thursday’s post about reading intentions, I figured I would go ahead and take a look at my lists and shelves. Updating them here helps me to get this chore done, so here we are.

You may recall the very cool Britannica bookshelves that Husband built me, gosh, almost a year ago? (They were mentioned, and pictured, here and here.) They’re still serving as my TBR shelves, and I have done some cleanup and photographed them for you here.




And then there are the Hemingway shelves, most of which I’ve read (his own work) but a significant portion of which I want very badly to find time for (more of the books about him).


I don’t think I’ll bother listing titles & authors here, but you can click the photo to enlarge. And please feel free to ask questions!

I have also collected some audiobooks on my iPod, so these are waiting in line:

  • Saturnalia by Lindsey Davis
  • Claire DeWitt and the City of the Dead by Sara Gran
  • Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver
  • Touch by Alexi Zentner
  • Juliet by Anne Fortier
  • The Eyre Affair by Jasper Fforde
  • The Likeness by Tana French
  • War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells
  • The Moon is Down by John Steinbeck

…and the big one,

  • Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy

which at 38.5 hours is rather intimidating (not to say terrifying). I should be able to get through it in under a month…? But I have been wanting to read it and maybe this is the way. We shall see.

And finally, I’ve edited my ongoing Books I Wish to Read list here at the blog. You will notice that some books on the list also appear in my audio backlog and/or on my shelves; that is a good thing. 🙂

I admire those signed up for the TBR Double Dare; you are stronger than I! As I said a few days ago, I’m not ready for that kind of commitment. But I am going to try to stay a little closer to my TBR lists than I did in 2011, and the first step is cleaning up those lists! Here we go!

Have you set any goals for 2012?

Reading Intentions – for the new year, or in general

A number of you lovely fellow book bloggers have been posting, alongside your year-end wrap-up posts, your intentions for your reading in 2012. I am interested to see what you intend. I applaud those of you with lists. I wonder at your resolve; will you really stick to them? I couldn’t! I mean, gosh knows I have lists – dream lists (see Books I Wish to Read) – but I don’t do a very good job of reading from those lists. Here, just for fun, let me see… of 139 books in 2011, it looks like 13 were on a list back in 2010. That’s from memory; call it an approximate 10% at best. Now of course I can blame my book review gig at Shelf Awareness for sending me pre-publication copies of lots of wonderful books that are not on any lists! (There’s a conceivable exception to this, if I were anticipating one still to come out, but that doesn’t seem to happen very often.) The other problem with clearing out my TBR lists/shelves is working in a library. New books come flooding through every day, and some – necessarily – tempt me. I also get to shop for and BUY new books for the library, and you can bet some of those tempt me! (If I’m not buying any tempting books I’m probably doing it wrong.) While these are good problems to have, and I read (or listen to) lots of wonderful books that come to me in these ways – from Shelf Awareness (SA), or through the library – I also wish I were making greater dents in my TBR list and shelves.

Does this form an Intention? I’m not sure. I’m not going to give up my SA gig; I enjoy it, and it brings me new and interesting books, which improves the library as well. And I can’t resist picking up new books that come through at work, either; this also improves the service I provide at the library, because it keeps me up to date and better able to answer questions about the newest releases. But those books on my list, and my shelves, are there because I want to read them, and I do regret seeing them languish there. I don’t see myself making significantly more time to read in 2012 than I did in 2011; discovering audiobooks has allowed me to “read” during my daily commute, while running errands, and while working out in the gym and walking, and I already read during enough of my free time that Husband has been known to complain. Also, 2011 was an epic year for injuries for me, finally culminating in knee surgery, and keeping me off the bike for an entirely undesirable amount of time; if my riding & racing career goes the way I’d like it to in 2012, I will actually be doing less reading, not more! (I know!)

So will anything really change? I’d like to make some improvement in the backlog on my TBR list/shelves. Part of that improvement can come through weeding – as I’ve done before. If it’s been on my list for a few years and I’ve forgotten why I was interested, I can let it fade back off again. I’m also getting more and more comfortable with putting down a book I’m not enjoying. I like to tell my library patrons that there are too many amazing wonderful books in the world to waste our precious reading time on those that do not impress us! (I do try and stick with Nancy Pearl’s Rule of 50 in most cases.) And I’ll try to be a little more selective about the books I collect that then build up on my shelves at home…

I think I can expect to make some small improvement in 2012 at reading more books that I have intended and planned to read. It’s all about being selective. I have lists of books I’d like to find, and I have shelves of books that I’ve physically collected, and I have audiobooks downloaded onto my iPod awaiting my attention. I think I can make a vague commitment to choose from these as much as possible, where my schedule of reviews for SA allows. I can do that.

I have no resolutions to read more or less in various genres, in nonfiction, or in classics. I do aspire to read a respectable proportion of nonfiction, and of classics, but I don’t necessarily have a number or percentage goal, and I wasn’t too unhappy with my numbers last year. All I really want to do is read more books I meant to read – but I’m okay with the rest of them, too. New releases will continue to interest me and that’s okay; and it’s certainly more than okay for SA to continue to ship me galleys!

If it seems I’m lacking in significant resolutions, please don’t judge me. For one thing, I have made some non-bookish resolutions, regarding competitive mountain bike racing; saving money; and my home life with the loving Husband and two little dogs. It’s not that my reading life couldn’t be improved upon; it’s more that it’s not an area I want to go messing around with. I find my reading fairly satisfactory as it is, and I don’t want it to be a place of highly structured self-improvement. I want it to continue to be a place of recreation, fun, joy, learning, and relaxation. So that’s my reading intention for the new year: to enjoy reading, and to record it here.