Book-A-Day 2016

I picked up this book expecting something incredibly silly. And while it is full or whimsy, it’s actually really lovely and interesting! Outhouses are, as it turns out, an important part of Alaskan culture, and so many people take pride in theirs! This book is full of photographs of absolutely charming and well-decorated outhouses, and accompanied by their stories. It even includes a little bit of outhouse history!

If you want something cute and fun but also informative, this is a pretty good book to crack open. It’s also a great gift idea for people who appreciate the unusual but charming aspects of life across the world.

Clearly inspired by the works of Edgar Alan Poe, this is an utterly adorable picture book. Edgar the little raven makes mischief, and ends up breaking his mother’s statue! What will he do?

The art is gorgeous and there aren’t a lot of words, which makes this a good book to read with beginning readers. 

Have you ever wanted to read a book about how tiny creatures control not just ants and caterpillars and sometimes mice, but also shape humanity? Then this is the book for you. This Is Your Brain On Parasites is a highly enjoyable, very educational look at the way organisms interact and co-evolve, all the way from the smallest of single-cell creatures up to human beings. McAuliffe is a fantastic writer, and her book is not only informative but a very easy to understand read. If you know nothing about parasitology or microbiology but you’re interested in the topics nonetheless, this is a good place to start!

I wasn’t sure what I was getting into with A God That Could Be Real. Spirituality books are hit or miss for me, more often than not miss. But not this one. Abrams did something I wasn’t expecting, and managed to put into words something I’d been thinking about the nature of deity for a very long time but could not express. 

A God That Could Be Real is a synthesis of science and spirituality. Discounting the god-like traits that are unnecessary and impossible given the knowns of our universe, Abrams posits that God exists because of us, as an emergent phenomenon that we are both part of and can be influenced by. This is a fascinating and thought-provoking book, no matter your spiritual leanings and beliefs. 

The Gigantic Beard That Was Evil was one of those graphic novels that I took one look at and knew I needed to read it. It was so, so worth the impulse. 

Imagine a world that is perfect and orderly and always, always tidy. A world where every tree is perfectly trimmed, every car perfectly parked, and every face clean-shaven. 

Imagine in this world a beard which grows at a monstrous rate and which cannot be cut. 

Imagine the consequences. 

This is a beautifully drawn, rhyming story that is equal parts eerie and whimsy. It’s a fantastic and fun read, definitely recommended. 

I thought it was about time that I sat down and read a trans book. 

From the Inside Out is a collection of poetry, reflections, and short essays by AFAB trans authors. Some of them are trans men, some of them identify outside the binary, and they come from a variety of cultural, racial, and economic backgrounds. 

No two stories are alike. 

This anthology is an intimate look at many different trans experiences and many different ways of being trans. As an AFAB trans person myself, it was interesting to see which stories I identified with (few) and which I didn’t (most). But every story is worthwhile, every story is important, every story shows us a little bit more about the sheer breadth of human existence, experience, and expression. 

This is a good book to read, and I’m sure that, after some reflection, it will be an even better book to come back to. 

I’m not sure how I feel about The Speed of Dark, other than it’s the scariest book I’ve ever read. It was recommended to me by an acquaintance of mine, also autistic. It has an autistic main character having to face the choice of if he wants to be “made normal” or not. 

A lot of the book is first person POV. It’s an autistic POV that is so well written that I got supremely excited. It’s a book! That’s written! Like I think! Finally, a character who I completely understand! Seriously, there were parts in the story where I could feel Lou’s impending meltdown hovering over him like a dark cloud, and it was so affecting that I actually had to take a break and go engage in something soothing. It’s good. 

But. 

I hate the ending. 

It makes some sense, narratively, given the world Lou Arrendale lives in, and given what he wants. 

But. 

It felt weak. Not enough lead-up to his ultimate decision. Not enough follow-up of the consequences. It felt more like a “this is how things should be and it’s good” than the scathing social commentary that the rest of the book felt like. 

To have a book that was so lovingly crafted, to have a realistic and relatable autistic protagonist, to have him face such a present and horrifying choice, to have him work so hard to understand what might happen and to come to terms with who he is, and to wrap it all up in something that feels vaguely cure-positive? 

It makes me sick. 

But then again, maybe the ending is supposed to be unsatisfying. Maybe it’s meant to be upsetting. If so, I can manage to feel a little less angry about it. 

If so, it really needed more follow-up. Not everything needs a happy ending. It could have been left mediocre, just to get the point across.

I don’t know if I can recommend this book. It made me ridiculously happy right up until the last handful of chapters. And then it left me hurt and angry and scared. 

After talking about my Anxiety Vampires and my Depression Beastie, my therapist loaned me this book. It’s super cute and full of so many adorable drawings and I love it. 

The gist is that you have a gremlin within you, and your gremlin is out to make you miserable. That voice in the back of your head that tells you that you’ll never succeed? Yeah that’s your gremlin. And it lays out some easy steps to tame your gremlin instead of fighting with it, so you can get on with enjoying life. 

Easy read, great ideas, fun even just to look at. 

When I asked my brother what book he wanted for his birthday, and he asked if there were any books on how to be an adult, I immediately thought of this one. And then I bought him this book. And then I read it first. 

While some sections are painfully lacking in trans/ace/aro/neurodivergence inclusiveness, it’s still a really good resource for figuring out how to do the adult thing. Kelly interviewed lots of people who were good at different aspects of adulthood and compiled all her research into 468 easy(ish) steps. 

This book is funny, it’s insightful, and it’s written from the perspective of a young person who also has little to no idea what they are doing. With advice for everything from what to look for in an apartment to how to handle difficult family dynamics, this book is a must for everyone who feels like they’re drowning in a sea of uncertainty. 

I didn’t actually have any plans to read this book, but then I stumbled across a fairly cheap used copy and glanced at the table of contents and got excited. I’m a sucker for interesting tables of contents. 

This book is a sci-fi with thorough and well-presented worldbuilding. It wasn’t difficult to get the lay of the land, which puts me off from a lot of science fiction, so right from the start 2312 had a lot going for it. The plot was fantastically constructed, in such a way that I sometimes had to put the book down and just think about it. Honestly, in the end, I liked it a lot. It’s a very well-constructed story, interestingly told and interspersed with non-plot portions that tell you more about the world and give you hints as to what will come. Really fun. 

As an added bonus, much of the novel is hugely critical of the way humanity is collectively treating the Earth currently, and explores the consequences to our planet. Robinson doesn’t gloss over it, either: extreme and rapid climate change, caused by us, remains a problem throughout the story, with the issues on Earth affecting the entire colonized solar system. No one is immune, and everyone needs to cooperate to fix it. 

The biggest weakness, though, and the thing that keeps me from shoving this book into the hands of literally everyone I know, is the main character, Swan Er Hong. She’s not super likable, she’s difficult to understand, and while there are very good and justified reasons for this, I feel like the moment I began to appreciate her for exactly who she was, she changed. Her ending didn’t really jive with her as I’d come to know her, and perhaps it’s the consequence of the passage of time, as the book spans a number of years from start to finish, but it felt very unsatisfying. 

But that was far from a deal-breaker. I found myself more and more immersed in 2312 the further along I read. It was definitely hugely entertaining and I’m glad I picked it up.

This is by far my favorite novel about the apocalypse. I came to this book from the Terry Pratchett side of things, having found so much love and delight in Discworld, and so it was my introduction to Neil Gaiman. I’ve been utterly in love with it ever since, and it’s one of the few books I can keep rereading without losing any of the initial charm and wonder. 

All of the characters are complete and utter gems, from the angel Aziraphale and the demon Crowley being something like friends, to Anathema Device interpreting the prophecies of her ancestor Agnes Nutter, witch, right on down to the other four horsemen of the apocalypse and the antichrist’s pet hellhound. This book is a hoot and a holler all the way through. You’ll love it. Everyone will love it. 

This one’s been on a lot of displays at work and for a while was on our Bestsellers list, so when it turned up in a free pile around the corner, I snagged it out of sheer curiosity. 

The Bone Clocks turned out to be a hugely interesting piece of storytelling with truly rich and wondrous worldbuilding. I enjoyed it immensely. Through most of the book, I was on the edge of my seat, needing to know what happened next, desperate for any clue. 

But not through all of it. A fair caution to interested readers: The Bone Clocks could have been better. 

You’ll find the beginning a little confusing, as it’s written in first-person but with changing POV characters from section to section, and will skip forward significantly through time. Ultimately, this is a benefit to the story; it could not have been effectively told any other way. But it’s a little bit tough to handle if you’re not expecting it or feeling very determined to stick it out. 

Also Crispin Hershey’s entire section felt a little bit sloppy and pointless, which was a shame because it was the longest section in the book. Previous sections had be eager for more; this one had me eager for its end.

My final gripe with The Bone Clocks? The very last section of the book, which wraps up the story, feels incredibly disconnected from everything that came before. There’s a whole novel waiting in there, squished into only a portion of the space it needed. The rest of the book had parts of the narrative thread expertly woven through each other, but the final section is abrupt and disconcerting. 

Overall, I’d still recommend it. The story was fascinating and intriguing and had me thinking more than most fiction does. I’m a little disappointed because it could have been so much better, really blown me away, but hey. I have high expectations for writers, what can I say?

I got seriously excited about this book when I first heard about it. Waiting for us to get a used copy in at work that I could borrow was agonizing. But it finally happened! I read the book! And let me tell you, it’s fantastic. 

Don’t be fooled by the fact that George is a kid’s book. It’s an important book that I think everyone should read. There aren’t enough books out there which accurately portray trans characters and what it’s like to be trans, and especially not as a kid. Alex Gino does this extraordinarily well, and I zoomed through their book in a growing euphoria that resulted in my promptly pushing it into my partner’s hands and making her read it, too.

This book is funny and sweet, heartbreaking and hopeful. It tackles difficult family dynamics, dealing with bullies, and being true to one’s own self. Excellent read, highly recommended. You will absolutely fall in love with Melissa. She’s such a charming and courageous little girl. 

As an autistic person, I always approach stories with autistic characters by allistic authors with a mixture of hope and dread. The dread increases whenever I see it’s written by a parent of an autistic person. Curiosity always wins, as does a need to gather good books for my fellow autistics, so more often than not, I pick them up and give them a go. 

Such was the case with this manga. 

It’s based on real-life experiences of raising an autistic child in Japan. It is, much to my surprise, not bad! There are a few instances of well-meaning repression of stimming, but for the most part, Hikaru’s parents accept him for who he is and work really hard to accommodate his needs, educate neighbors, teachers, and classmates, and continue to love their son despite the difficulties they encounter along the way. They never lose faith that their son will be able to get a job when he’s grown and live a happy, mostly-independent life. 

I only had the first two volumes available to me, but I hope to find the rest soon. So far it’s a story of parents getting it mostly right, with a variety of autistic characters who are vastly different from one another, just as real autistic people are. I hope the rest of the story continues in the same vein. 

Now this is an adventure the likes of which I’ve never been taken on. Somewhere between science fiction and fantasy, coming-of-age and adventure, Scrap City introduces you to a world underground, deep beneath the junkyard, where inanimate objects become alive and fully sentient. But when this secret place is threatened by human greed and misdeed, it’s up to a couple of plucky kids to work together and save the day--without letting anyone in on why the day needs saving. 

This was really fun to read. I bet there’s a kid (or an adult!) in your life who would like it. 

A princess who’s a seer. Her friend, a captured prince from a conquered country. A plot to steal the throne. 

I keep wanting to say this is a fun little book, but it’s got the full spectrum of emotions in it. The plot will catch you and before you know it, you’ll be racing along the plains with Torina, breath caught in your throat, or fighting alongside Landen as he makes his own way in the world by sticking to the principles he was raised with. Will good triumph over greed in the end? Read to find out. 

I read this book for the first time when I was about twelve, and rereading it has been an utter delight. It’s a bit dense, so not exactly a light summer read excepting for those of us who devour the written word like we need it to live, but extremely worth it. 

The worldbuilding in particular in Dune is what attracts me. The characters are great, the plot is far-reaching, and all around it’s just a fantastic, classic sci-fi. But the world. It’s so fleshed out, down to the smallest details, so as to seem utterly real. It’s got the perfect balance of futuristic technology and tried-and-true methods and traditions. Human beings are, in the end, still human beings, even when they’ve expanded across the universe and colonized other worlds.