100 Books

Every year, on New Year's Eve, I write a list of accomplishments from the previous year and a list of resolutions (really "goals") for the coming year. The list of accomplishments includes things like: did not get fired, did not go bankrupt, survived. The list of resolutions includes the obvious: lose weight, save money, be a nicer person. Also, every year the list of accomplishments includes the number of books I read, cover to cover, and the list of resolutions includes the number of books I intend to read, cover to cover: 100.

I've only done it once, in the years I've been keeping count, and that was in 1981, when I was still in college. But I keep thinking I'm going to do it again. To read 100 books in one year one must read an average of 1.923 books per week. It is not hard to read 2 books per week if you work at it. It's just that it's hard to keep working at it, week in and week out, your entire life. Because even if I do manage to read 100 books this year, say, there it'll be on my resolutions list again next year: Read 100 books.

Last year I read 73 books, an average of 1.4 per week. That's really very good. In 2008, I read 14 books, 5 of them before the twins were born in March. A good year, but not for reading. In 2007, I read 44 books. In 2006, I read only 26 books. So 73 last year was very good, though I fear it was due to our move to Ridgecrest and the lack of stimulation from anything other than books.

I figure if I could read 73 books when I was so depressed last year I can surely do 100 this year. For one thing, this year I intend to count all the Barbara Pym books I read in February. Every February I attempt to reread everything Barbara Pym ever wrote. Last year was an aberration: I was so depressed in February that all I read was murder mysteries. But usually February is Pym month, and I usually don't count those books on my list, because they have been counted before. But this year I plan to count them, because it's still reading, right? If I go to the effort to read something from cover to cover, it should count. That's my new rule.

Today is January 18th, the second anniversary of my mother's death, and I have already read 5 books. They are, in order:
1. Missing Mom by Joyce Carol Oates. The title and subject matter appealed to me, but let's face it, I'm not an Oates fan. Still, some good stuff for those of us who miss our moms.
2. The Lost Art of Gratitude by Alexander McCall Smith. The latest installment in the Isabel Dalhousie series was, I thought, better than the last few, though none of them are very good and I don't know why I read them.
3. Two-Part Invention by Madeleine L'Engle. This is the book she wrote after her husband of 40 years died, about their life together. Supposed to be more fictional than her fiction. Not really worth reading, but some good stuff.
4. An Ornithologist's Guide to Life by Ann Hood. A book of short stories that Rocket Boy brought back from Clifford's house. I wonder what Clifford made of these and why he had the book. Some good stories, some not so good. I should try a novel by Hood.
5. Lost in a Good Book by Jasper Fforde. Just finished this today. I read the first Thursday Next novel a couple of years ago and always meant to read another. Fun, maybe went on a bit long. I plan to get the next one at the library this week.

Now I'm reading "The Wordy Shipmates" by Sarah Vowell, which may or may not end up being #6 for the year. It's all about Puritans, funny and interesting, yet a bit of a slog, and I keep falling asleep while trying to read it.

Stay tuned. I'll keep you (my faithful few readers) updated on my progress toward 100 books this year.