You don't have to read everyday, only on the days you eat.

I read a lot. I love to read. Too bad reading doesn’t burn more calories.
And in the summer I read twice as much as normal. Sometimes I save especially juicy tomes for the lazy summer twilight.
Often I pontificate on how much I would like a job where my only duty was to read. The problem is that most jobs of this sort require extensive writing as well. I hate writing. If there was a math problem (also something I hate) that could lay out the degree to which I enjoy reading and how much I loathe writing I’d say they would be about proportionate. But I digress.
Show me a job that will pay for me to read something and then give an uneducated, opinionated, short vocal recap and I would send my resume directly. Sadly, nobody wants to pay me for my non-textual brief opinions and so I must live out my career aspirations here on my blog.

Thus, I give you my summer reading list (sans Harry Potter as you’ve been there done that):

Wizard of Earthsea, The Farthest Shore, The Tombs of Atuan – Ursula K. Le Guin
Funny that this was my first taste of Le Guin. She’s been around for ages and I’ve been reading fantasy for ages but we’d yet to meet up. I’m so glad we did. I like fantasy as long as it is not overly romantic and Le Guin is certainly not gratuitous with the romance. She is what I call a Philantasy author. Just the right mix of philosophy added to keep us all on the space shuttle.

Reviving Ophelia – Mary Pipher
Oh seriously, don’t get me started. See below. See above.

Starving Girls, Perfect Daughters – Courtney E. Martin
I dedicated an entire blog post to my feelings (uneducated as they may be) on this book/phenomenon.

The Bookseller of Kabul – Asne Seierstad
This was a summer re-read. I can never get enough of this book. Seierstad is bloody brilliant and her book is honest without being robotic. I strongly recommend this book for anybody wondering where to start with “The Middle East”.

The Jane Austen Book Club – Karen Joy Fowler
On my reading list for two years now, JABC was a little disappointing. I think it was because the book was more serious than I was expecting. Fowler’s characters did parallel Austen’s but Fowler chose to mirror the less amiable traits. And where was Mr. Collins? Or the Bates’?

Sickened: The Memoir of a Munchausen’s By Proxy Childhood – Julie Gregory
This book is like gawking at a car wreck. The depth of human dementia in parts of it is unbelievably grotesque yet so real that you must keep reading. Plus Gregory is a brilliant and honest writer.

Beneath A Marbled Sky – John Shors
I couldn’t finish. Maybe because it is a male author writing a female heroine. I have ‘views’ about that. It wasn’t just his main character that was lacking, he went overboard with the adjectives he suspected were needed in order to describe the vibrancy of life in India. I wanted to shout, “I get it! The bazaar was colorful and lively, can we move it along?” And this coming from a wholehearted India fanatic. Pass on this one.

The Things They Carried – Tim O’Brien
Oh wretched and good. Upon opening the book I could feel the gloom and doom of war. Perhaps this was only because I knew it was about Vietnam and have an especial disgust for that part of American history. Wog was the last to read it, indeed tis her book, and her notes are in the margins. It was a strange experience to read a book and then listen to her inner commentary as if I had a supernatural radio.