I admit that I’m pretty impressionable — or at least I thought I was before writing this review. I just googled “impressionable” to make sure I had the definition right, and it defines an impressionable person as someone who is “easily influenced because of a lack of critical ability.” Hey now. I have critical ability. Don’t I?
I guess my point is that I can have strong opinions, especially toward books, music, movies, and TV, but if someone strongly opines in a different way, I can generally be persuaded. I kept this characteristic in mind when I started Ender’s Game. I promised at the beginning of the year that I would try at least two science fiction novels this year. When I asked Kyle — the biggest sci-fi fan I know — to recommend me a book, he chose Ender’s Game and added that it’s one of the premiere books in the genre. Clearly, he loved this book; I needed to recognize his influential opinion so that my own wouldn’t be swayed from the get-go.
I was pretty good about sticking to my opinion throughout the book, but I teetered on a final rating once I finished it. A few days later, Kyle and I had a virtual date night with two friends who brought up the movie version organically. I told them I just finished the novel, and they both started raving about how much they loved the book. As they praised it, I could feel my own opinion changing. Was I misremembering my experience with the novel? Did I enjoy and appreciate it more than what my mind had been telling me? Was I about to be persuaded again? I ruminated over it for a few days before writing this post so that my mind was clear before making a firm decision. I wanted this review to be 100% my own; it would not be influenced by others’ opinions. Although a teeny tiny part of me is still flip-flopping, let me demonstrate my critical ability that led me to my unpopular and average opinion.
Let me preface this post by saying I’m hesitant to make any resolutions this year. While I did a pretty good job of obtaining my 2020 goals, hindsight also warns me to saunter into the year rather than dive in head first. Last year taught me to take it easy and not put too much pressure on myself. But I’m also one for self-improvement, so I can’t help but make a few resolutions in this year, which will certainly be better than last … right? RIGHT??
Although I don’t have any crazy projects on the horizon like I did in 2020 or literary goals just spewing out of me, there are a few things I’d like to accomplish this year. Let’s take a look.
Read five two-flame books (more than the number of the previous year-and-a-half) and six three-flame books.
But I also had the joy of experiencing 11 books with four flames, and nine garnered a whole five flames. I’d call that a success!
But how did I do with the resolutions I set for myself in January? Let’s see how I scored (and check out the books I said I’d read at the beginning of the year in the picture below and compare them to my fully ranked list of 2019).
I’m a little behind on New Year’s resolutions, but I needed time to really think about what I wanted of 2019 and of myself. I still don’t really have that answer, but I do know one thing that I want to define the year: books. To read a plethora of books and to share my thoughts about them with all of you.
Oh and travel. A lot of traveling. So that’s two things I want from this year.
You could say those have become annual resolutions for me. In 2019, though, I yearn to do more. I want to expand my literary presence and stray a bit from my normal genres. I want to tap into the titles that make my family and friends come alive. I want to know authors whose passions and backgrounds might differ from my own.
Here, I present to you my 2019 reading resolutions.
You know that feeling when one of your favorite singers comes out with an album that you so desperately want to love, but you’re just like … no … ? You keep listening in the hope that it’ll spark some kind of desire, make the head bop just a smidgen to the left, but after five tries, still … no … ? That’s how I felt about Justin Timberlake’s Man of the Woods (I fought with myself over it!), and that same feeling emerged with Fahrenheit 451.
I’ve been immensely disappointed in myself for never reading it in my 26 years. It’s not just a classic, but it says so much about literature and society. I had convinced myself (and the world had convinced me) that I would fall in love with this remarkable book when I finally got around to it.
Until I didn’t fall in love. I fooled myself into thinking my enjoyment would commence once I started understanding it a bit more. The truth is it took far too long to really be “in the know,” and even after that happened, I realized this book did very little for me. Bradbury’s classic sci-fi novel earned an extra flame for its message, but ooh ooh I was not on fire with this one.
I’ve always said sci-fi wasn’t really my “thing.” I don’t gravitate toward it at the library. I don’t look for the best sci-fi lists. I just click with other genres better. Enter the picture: Kyle, my partner of three years (whaaat?) and a huge sci-fi nerd. When we started dating, he was reading a gargantuan from Stephen King about a virus that wipes out the world.
Yeah. Not quite my thing.
But it is Kyle’s. Apocalyptic warfare? Intense technological enhancements? Human-erasing bugs? That’s him. I’ve read exactly one sci-fi novel in our time together (Station Eleven, ). So it was only natural that when I closed the cover on Eleanor Oliphanta few weeks ago while sitting next to BF that he suggested I read one of his favorite sci-fi novels: The Forever War. I relented, but he reminded me how I always say I’m going to read one of his books and don’t (truth) and convinced me that the story’s undertones of the Vietnam War, in which the author served, would captivate me.
Ugh he knows me so well.
Fine. For BF, I will read sci-fi. The things you do for love.
Jeff VanderMeer‘s novel Annihilation caught on the adapted screenplay train rather quickly. Just four years after being released to sci-fi lovers in hardback, the story is being shown on the silver screen, with Natalie Portman on board. The book is the first in the Southern Reach trilogy and tells the story of four women who set off to explore Area X, a remote area filled with mystery. As members of the twelfth expedition, Lena (Portman) and the others try to determine what has caused Area X to appear. Searching for answers, they are instead stricken with paranoia of what may lurk beyond each corner.
It’s only natural that movies and the books that they’re the based off will be compared to one another. Therefore, it’s time to go toe to toe with Annihilation: book versus movie.
As a book connoisseur (some might now even call me a critic), I’m pretty easy to please. When you read finance material all day at work, you’re happy to absorb any form of creativity. Very seldom have I found a book I can’t finish or that fails to light the tiniest of sparks. But finding a full-on scorcher is even harder. That type of material is the stuff of J.K. Rowling, Ann Patchett, and Emily Giffin. I might enjoy a lot of books, but I can’t hand out five flames for just anything. Therefore, I am happy to give you Big Little Literature’s first ever inferno.
Maybe it’s because this stellar novel was published on my birthday, Feb. 14, but I instantly connected with Lincoln in the Bardo. I read it during a particularly painful flight experience to and from Denver. Counting delays, this totaled about 10 hours, but with Lincoln, it felt like two. This story will surely dominate every Best of 2017 list; it’s already dominated mine.
George Saunders, one of Time‘s most influential people in 2013, began writing his multigenre and first novel after hearing the tale of Abraham Lincoln paying multiple visits to the crypt of his son, Willie, after he died at the age of 11. What he created wasn’t just a fictional story about life after death but a creative venture that took me into the past and into another world.