Recent Reads

The Last Tsar: The Life and Death of Nicholas II

I've been fascinated by Russia long before the country was BFF with the entire Trump administration—maybe it has something to do with my Ukranian heritage or the fact that my name is Alexandra. I still haven't actually traveled to Russia yet, but seeing the too-beautiful-to-be-real St. Basil's Cathedral (preferably in the snow!) is at the very top of my life to-do list. My uncle also shares a love of all things Eastern European, and after our visit to Marjorie Merriweather Post's home (with its jaw-dropping collection of Russian treasures), he bought me two must-read books about the Romanovs: The Last Tsar, and The Rasputin File.

I finally dove into The Last Tsar, and truth be told it was a difficult, but ultimately fascinating read. The book is long and filled with Russian names (and nicknames) that I found incredibly hard to keep straight, and I was frequently confused by the timeline, relationships and politics. However, the story of the Romanovs—Nicholas and Alexandra and their children—is a fascinating one, and their letters to one another painted a vivid picture of their complicated (and tragic) lives together.

Shrill

After spending weeks immersed in dreary pre-Soviet Russia, Shrill was the perfect palette cleanser. I wasn't familiar with Lindy West, but I'd seen Shrill mentioned by many people whose taste in books I trust, so I knew it was a safe bet. West is 34 years old, so she felt like a friend of mine—one that made me laugh out loud forcefully and often. I devoured this book in less than two days—not only to offset the weeks I spent on The Last Tsar or my arbitrary GoodReads challenge, but because I just couldn't, and didn't want to, stop reading.

Another Country

After seeing the life-altering James Baldwin documentary, I Am Not Your Negro, I wanted to remedy the fact that I had never read anything by Baldwin. My dude had a copy of Another Country, so it seemed like a good place to start. The beginning and end are superior to what comes in the middle, and I found myself pretty much hating every character—but I ultimately loved the book. It's no secret that Baldwin had a way with words and an important and unique perspective on the world. It's not an easy or feel-good book by any means, but I won't soon forget Baldwin's musings on love, race and what it means to be a living, feeling human.

You Can't Touch My Hair: And Other Things I Still Have to Explain

I seem to be in a pattern of following up a heavy book with a more light-hearted memoir, and after Another Country, I definitely needed a laugh. I got more than a few while reading You Can't Touch My Hair, and like Shrill, I found myself laughing out loud on the train more than once. I was vaguely aware of Phoebe Robinson's podcast Two Dope Queens, but I was surprised to learn that Robinson is 32-years-old and grew up in Cleveland (31-year-old Akron native here). Where Shrill dealt mostly with West's experience as a fat woman (her words), Robinson talks mostly about what it means to grow up black in the Midwest. You wouldn't think that a book as serious as Another Country would actually complement the hilarious You Can't Touch My Hair, but in hindsight they're the perfect pair. I don't know if I would have connected with Robinson as well if she didn't sound like a contemporary of mine (or if we hadn't grown up with such similar cultural experiences), but after reading her book I wished that we were real-life friends.

The Member of the Wedding

I'm going to be 100% honest: I bought this book a while ago after reading somewhere that it was Lauren Graham's all-time favorite book (I am queen of the tenuous connection). This was my first book by McCullers, who lived a life fraught with illness and died when she was just 50 years old. The Member of the Wedding is about 12-year-old Frankie Addams, who is struggling to find her place in the world. Although every year I grow further and further from being an angsty teen, the memories of how uniquely hard it is to be a young girl will never go away. McCullers captures this existential crises so perfectly—one that transcends place and time (Memberis set in Georgia during the summer of 1944). McCullers stopped me in my tracks several time with Frankie's observations on what a strange experience it is to just be alive.

"But there's this. I wonder if you have ever thought about this. Here we are—right now. This very minute. Now. But while we're talking right now, this minute is passing. And it will never come again. Never in all the world. When it is gone it is gone. No power on earth could bring it back again. It is gone. Have you ever thought about that?"

- or -

“She was afraid of these things that made her suddenly wonder who she was, and what she was going to be in the world, and why she was standing at that minute, seeing a light, or listening, or staring up into the sky: alone.”

Recent Reads

In 2016 I read 44 books, which was a lot for me, but one of my goals for 2017 is to read even more. Even though the city just brought wi-fi to all of the subway stations, I try to exclusively read on my commute instead of mindlessly scrolling through social media (like I do basically the entire rest of the day). Goodreads has a "book challenge" feature, and I set mine at 52 books in 2017, and with six already completed the little widget tells me I'm already three books ahead of schedule. I'm heavily motivated by deadlines and gratuitous praise, so I'm feeling good about this goal (and hope to exceed it).

I've also been trying to read books that I actually own instead of filling up my library queue—I'm nothing if not a book hoarder and impulsive book-buyer, and my shelves are filled mostly with books I've never read. Reading a library book is good for that deadline-oriented part of me, but I own so many good ones that deserve a chance, and the more I read and sell back to the Strand the more books I can continue to buy (totally rational). So, not only have I read six books already in 2017, but they were (almost) all great—here's a bit more about what I've been reading lately:

Five Days at Memorial: Life and Death in a Storm-Ravaged Hospital

This book was referenced in the excellent history of Bellevue I sped through at the end of 2016, and I picked it up immediately. It was long but with a book this good that hardly mattered (apart from me giving up on the huge library copy and purchasing the paperback version).

Five Days is about the harrowing time leading up to, and directly after Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans. Memorial hospital lost power and was ravaged by floods and misinformation. Half of the book describes what it was like inside the hospital, and half of the book is devoted to the legal battle that followed after claims that patients were intentionally euthanized rather than evacuated—both are equally fascinating.

Dead Distillers: A History of the Upstarts and Outlaws Who Made American Spirits

This was the least memorable of the group, but it was a quick, easy read. The book comprises short stories of various people—names you've heard of, like Jim Beam, and names history forgot—vital to the history of distilling spirits in America. Some of the stories were great, some were a little meh but I did learn that distilling is a tricky business and I continue to marvel at the fact that Prohibition actually happened in our not-so-distant past.

Being Mortal: Medicine and What Matters in the End

I put this book on my library list because it was so highly rated on Amazon, and now I understand why. This is an essential book—I thought multiple times while reading it that I should buy this book for everyone I know. Everyone will die, and most of us will grow old, and every one that plans to do so (or help someone else do so) so go out and buy (or rent) this book immediately. Gawande's writing is infinitely readable and empathetic, and I cried several times while reading his thoughtful stories. This book wasn't enjoyable, but it was thought-provoking and no doubt life-changing.

Rules of Civility

This was a Christmas gift from a friend who knows me very well, so I knew I would love it. The novel begins in New York in the late 1930s, and follows Katey Kontent, whose life is shaped by a series of choices and unavoidable events. I've been trying to read more fiction (or ideally, alternate it with non-fiction) but it's always easier for me to pick non-fiction. Luckily, this one was chosen for me and it matched up with my interests perfectly, mainly in its vivid descriptions of old New York. While the high society scenes are fun to imagine, I found myself wanting nothing more than to go back in time and eat at the Wall Street diner she frequents.

The Voyeur's Motel

I was skeptical going into this book (lent to me by a dear friend who actually met with the Voyeur recently and snapped his portrait). I'd followed the backlash after the New Yorker article came out and was wary of the validity of the story, but was too curious to skip the book. It was a quick read—mostly journal entries from Gerald Foos, who owned motels in Colorado from the 60s through the 80s and spied on his guests via specially-crafted ceiling vents. Foos claims he was watching guests have sex "for the sake of science," but he mostly comes across as a fractured creep with delusions of grandeur. This is also my first introduction to the writing of Gay Talese and I came away from this book feeling almost as turned off by Talese's narcissism as I was by Foos's.

The Contortionist's Handbook

This book was first recommended by Kaylah (whose book recommendations I almost always find to be spot-on) and it had been sitting on my shelf for a while before I finally plucked it off recently. It wasn't at all what I expected (the title and cover photograph had me expecting more of a carnival-vibe) but it was a fascinating story. Told mostly in flashbacks and scattered fragments, the writing style felt really unique. The book is relatively short, but the insights into Daniel Fletcher's (and Johnny Vincent's, and Steven Edward's, etc.) mind and crazy life are fascinating.

Let's become friends on Goodreads and let me know what you're reading—book recommendations are always welcome!

Best of 2016: Books

Goodreads tells me that I read 44 books in 2016 and although falling short of my somewhat arbitrary goal of 52 books, 44 still feels like an accomplishment. There is almost nothing that makes me happier than getting out of work, scoring a seat on the train and tucking into a great book for my hour-ish commute home. The subway will always be one of my favorite perks of living in New York, and the ability to spend 2+ hours a day reading instead of driving feels like the ultimate luxury to me.

2016 marks another year in which I resisted the inevitable e-reader purchase, but I just can't quite make the leap yet. However, I did just start reading Five Days at Memorial: Life and Death in a Storm-Ravaged Hospital—a 558-pg hardcover library copy—and when I compare how I look holding a massive book next to Kindle readers, I do feel like a silly luddite. Regardless, books are wonderful things—even when they're boring or needlessly wordy or disappointing—and here are some notable reads from my 2016 stack:

Overall best:

Endurance: Shackleton's Incredible Voyage

First published in 1959, Alfred Lansing's book about the Shackleton voyage to Antarctica may be one of the very best books I've read—not only this year, but in my entire life. The true story is riddled with moments that will make you think "no. way." or "holy shit" and—unlike the actual voyage—the book just flew by. Any time I'm cold or remotely uncomfortable I think of Shackleton's crew and the trials they endured and I try to conjure up even a fraction of the humor and grace that they were able to find while enduring some of the worst conditions imaginable.

Best non-fiction:

Nothing to Envy: Ordinary Lives in North Korea

I stumbled upon a series of photographs taken in modern-day North Korea and immediately became obsessed with knowing everything I could about the bizzaro conditions there. The country is notoriously sealed off from most of the world and its public-facing side is mostly propaganda and farce. To get information about the "real North Korea," author Barbara Demick spoke with six North Koreans (spoiler alert: all of which left the country at some point) covering a span of fifteen years. The idea that truth is stranger than fiction definitely applies to the story of North Korea, and even after reading so much straight from the source, it's still hard for me to comprehend that this place exists.

Best Fiction:

Carter Beats the Devil

Based only on my interest in Carter the Great's incredible show posters, I picked up this novel in the dollar section of the Strand a few years ago. I try to alternate fiction and non-fiction and my fiction stockpile is always dreadfully low, but it's a shame that this sat on my shelf as long as it did. This was another book that inched me closer to e-reader land—although my copy is a paperback, it was long and unnecessarily large. But I was instantly drawn into the story—part mystery, part historical-fiction—and by the end of it I was grateful that it wasn't beholden to Carter's biography because in this case, I would bet that fiction is better than the facts.

Best in Science / Medicine:

How We Die

Months later I'm still thinking about this book, and I doubt I'll forget it anytime soon. Sherwin Nuland managed to write a book about the scientific mechanisms of death that is neither morbid nor confusing. I found his explanations and case studies to be hopeful, enlightening and entirely fascinating. Death is the one thing that unifies us all—it's also terrifying, mystifying and completely unavoidable. I hate surprises, so while it's good practice to try to live in the present, it's oddly comforting to me to be a bit more knowledgeable about what's ahead.

Honorable Mentions:

Most Joyful:

The French Chef in America: Julia Child's Second Act

A follow-up to one of my all-time favorites, My Life in France, The French Chef isn't quite as iconic (and was written without Child, after her death) but Julia Child's life is admirable and her joyful attitude—especially in the face of difficulty—is endlessly inspirational.

Funniest:

How To Be a Woman by Moran, Caitlin (2012)

I've seen this advertised as "the British Bossypants" and that's a great way to describe Moran's musings on everything from underwear to childbirth. I actually left this in the seat pocket of a plane (I was so annoyed with myself) and bought it again just to finish it—it's that good.

Tailor Made for Me:

Bellevue: Three Centuries of Medicine and Mayhem at America's Most Storied Hospital

I've been searching for a history of Bellevue (ever since I creeped on the hospital a few years ago during my lunch break), and this one was published recently and was better than I could have even imagined. New York history? Check. Body snatching? Check. The evolution of medical practices including bloodletting, leeches and antiseptic germ theory? Check, check and check. Every single chapter had me thinking, "man, I love this book," and I was sad when it ended, which is the true mark of a great read.

I'm aiming to increase my book total in 2017 and spend even more time reading and less time aimlessly browsing social media (me to me: good luck with that). I never tire of chatting about books so let's be friends on Goodreads or leave a comment if you have any good suggestions!

Past "recent" reads can be found under the "books" tag. 

Recent Reads: Halloween Edition

I haven't done a recent reads post in a long time, but I've been on a fairly consistent reading streak this year that I'm super pumped about. I used to devour books as a kid but sometime after college I just sort of stopped reading for pleasure, with a few exceptions. However, when I moved to New York I found myself with loads of time to read—on the subway, eating in diners alone, waiting to meet up with friends, etc.—and I fell hard back into old habits. I don't read as quickly as I'd like, sometimes I take breaks and some books are just too heavy to carry on a daily basis (I realize this is why e-readers exist, but I'm a slave to the printed word).

Last year I started tracking everything I read through Goodreads, and it's been so fun to have a tangible record. It's immensely satisfying to login and mark a book as "read." I've finished 35 books this year, and I probably won't hit my arbitrary goal of 52, or a book a week, but it still feels substantial. I'm a bit of a book hoarder (pictured above is just a small portion of my "to read" list), but I also love the library—it's still a thrill to me that I can walk into a library and walk out with a book, for free! I function really well on deadlines, so having a set timetable in which to read a book is really helpful too.

Anyway, that's a really nerdy lead-in, but it's the most wonderful time of the year—can you believe Halloween is only a week away??—so I thought I would skew this post toward the macabre, which isn't hard because most of the books I read year-round fall into that category. Here are some of the more recent additions to my 'read' pile:

A Season with the Witch: The Magic and Mayhem of Halloween in Salem, Massachusetts, by J.W. Ocker

I'm actually in Salem as you read this (the magic of scheduled posts!), and I prepared by reading this last week. I've been to Salem once before, but ten years ago and in August.

For the past three years we went to Sleepy Hollow, but this year we decided we were ready to conquer Salem the week before Halloween. Immediately upon starting this book, I decided that my next chapter in life would be to move to Salem and finally live out my dream of owning a haunted house and living every day like it's Halloween. I may change my mind after braving the crazy crowded streets, but if you're considering a visit, I would recommend reading this book first. Ocker does a good job of looking at the history and how current-day Salem has mutated from a site of a shameful event to "Witch City."

Library of Souls: The Third Novel of Miss Peregrine's Peculiar Children, by Ransom Riggs

I waited forever to read this series, but once I started I had to finish the trilogy as soon as I could. The first one is wonderful, the second one was ok, but I enjoyed this one the best. The story picks up right where the second one ends (major cliff-hanger alert), and I think that it's the most imaginative and emotional of the three. The ending is satisfying, and the photos are creepy, as always. I was somewhat disappointed with the movie (the last half, anyway) but with books this good that was probably inevitable.

Down Among the Dead Men: A Year in the Life of a Mortuary Technician, by Michelle Williams

Michelle Williams (no, not that Michelle Williams) impulsively applies for a mortuary technician job with no experience working with the dead, and details her first year on the job in this memoir. I will read anything and everything I can find about the funeral industry, and while this was an easy and entertaining read, it wasn't the best of the genre. She wrote a little too much about pubs and her boyfriend, and not enough about autopsies and dead men, but when she did get into the nitty gritty, I was entertained.

The Secret Poisoner: A Century of Murder, by Linda Stratmann

Sometimes I wonder what fellow subway passengers think about me based on my choice of reading material, but that didn't stop me from reading a 320-page book about poison with a skull-and-crossbones on the cover. Like Down Among the Dead Men, this wasn't the best of the "poison" genre—yes, I've read many and my favorite is The Poisoner's Handbook—and to be honest I sort of slogged through it but it's hard to be too dull when you're talking about secretive poisoners throughout history.

Elmer McCurdy: The Misadventures in Life and Afterlife of an American Outlaw, by Mark Svenvold

My friend Jim originally bought this book and asked if I'd be interested in borrowing it (duh). While filming the Six Million Dollar Man at an amusement park in California, a camera crew discovered that one of the funhouse "mannequins" was actually mummified remains, later identified as McCurdy. His journey from failed outlaw to the Los Angeles coroner's office is a strange one, and while the author diverges from McCurdy's life a bit too much, his story is just weird and (hopefully) unique enough to make this a worthwhile read.

The House of the Seven Gables, by Nathaniel Hawthorne

Speaking of Salem, another thing I did in preparation for our trip was finally finish The House of the Seven Gables. I had picked up a copy at the gift shop when we visited ten years ago, and started to read it periodically since. I was never able to really get into the slow story and old-timey dialogue, but I was determined to get through it this time, and I did. I alternated between loving (and highlighting) Hawthorne's insanely wordy prose and wishing sentences, paragraphs and entire chapters would just end. It's definitely not an easy, breezy read, but it's one of those classics that I'm glad to have experienced until the bitter end. Sample sentence: "

Recognizing little Ned Higgins among them, Hepzibah put her hand into her pocket, and presented the urchin, her earliest and staunchest customer, with silver enough to people the Domdaniel cavern of his interior with as various a procession of quadrupeds as passed into the ark." 

I'm currently re-reading The Westing Game (for the many-th time), but I always welcome new book suggestions—macabre or not. And if you have similar tastes, be sure to also check out Kaylah's book posts because we might accidentally be the same person.

Recent Reads

I have a total love/hate relationship with my library card. I'm still amazed that I can leave the library with a purse full of great books at absolutely zero cost to me (except when I can't finish them and end up paying overdue fees) but lately the hold system has been causing me anxiety. I get excited and start requesting a lot of books, and suddenly they all become available at the exact same time. Most of the books have been new releases or popular titles, meaning I only get them for two weeks (instead of three), with no option to renew.

I've tried to increase my reading speed and efficiency to keep up with the constant influx of new material, which is definitely a positive effect, but I've had to let a few gems pass by because I just couldn't fit them into my rotation. I'm totally the dad in About Time, who used his time traveling ability just to get in more reading time. There are so many amazing books in the world that it makes me sad to think that I will never have the time to read them all.

Here are a few recent books that made the cut, all of which have been from the library:

The Goldfinch, by Donna Tartt

The Goldfinch is the most extreme example of my recent reading-induced anxiety: I had exactly two weeks to read all 748 pages, and I actually finished with a day to spare. And then I started a new job and didn't know when I would be able to make a library run, so I kept it a few days overdue and had to pay fines anyway :|  Oh well, it was definitely worth it — there are worse things to spend my money on than a good book. This book was on every "best of 2013" list that I saw, and deservedly so. I have been much more into non-fiction lately, and this huge, sprawling novel was a great change of pace. The New York parts were my favorite (for obvious reasons), although the MET Museum bombing hit a little too close to home — I'll never look at that building the same way again. I definitely related to Theo's obsessive love of the stolen Goldfinch painting and there were nights when I just couldn't put the book down (and not only because I was on such a strict timetable). There are portions of the middle that drag a bit, but overall it's definitely worth the time investment.

The Good Nurse: A True Story of Medicine, Madness and Murder, by Charles Graeber

With a subtitle like that, how could I NOT love this book? The Good Nurse is the true story of Charles Cullen, a nurse that may have killed as many as 300 people while working at various hospitals and care facilities on the east coast. Charlie's story is so fascinating (and very terrifying) that there's pretty much no way this book could have been bad. Sometimes the narrative style was a little too illustrative for me (there's no need to embellish here, the truth is crazy enough), but I think I got used to it after a while. It's actually terrifying to think that he was able to kill so many people and yet it took nearly 16 years before he was finally caught — and even then it wasn't an easy conviction.

As Nature Made Him: The Boy Who Was Raised As a Girl, by John Colapinto

The story of David Reimer, who was born a boy and after essentially losing his penis to a botched circumcision was then raised as a girl, is pretty famous but I had never heard of it before reading this book. Someone familiar with the story might find this account to be redundant, but it was all completely new to me. The subjects of gender identity, medical and psychological issues are all fascinating to me, and this book covered all three in the telling of Reimer's story. The author was very sympathetic to Reimer (and no so much his doctors), but I don't think that's a bad thing, or that there should be any doubt that it was a mistake in every way to make such a drastic decision.

Typhoid Mary: An Urban Historical, by Anthony Bourdain

I'm not going to make many friends reading books with titles like "Typhoid Mary" while I'm eating lunch, but I can't help that I find the creepy/gross/weird side of life to be vastly more interesting than "mainstream" subjects. I didn't have high hopes for this book since I very much judge books by their covers and this one was sort of terrible. It is a stubby little book with a weird cover, written by celebrity chef Anthony Bourdain, yet it was everything I could have hoped for from a book about Typhoid Mary. I didn't know too many details about her story, but Bourdain chronicled them very well, oftentimes from the point of view of a fellow chef (Mary Mallon was a cook by profession). The whole Typhoid Mary affair is a great piece of New York history that I'm glad I am now more knowledgable about, and I even learned that Mary is buried right here in New York, in St. Raymond's Cemetery in the Bronx. I immediately put it on my list of must-see places, along with North Brother Island (where she was exiled) if I can ever figure out how to actually get there without being arrested (any takers?).

Recent Reads

I've had my New York Public library card for a few months, and it's already turning out to be one of my very favorite things. The library system took a little getting used to at first, but now I think I've got the hang of it. Basically, libraries here aren't really made for traditional browsing. To get the best results, you browse the collection online, place holds on titles you want, and as they become available they're transferred to the library of your choice, where you pick them up from a dedicated "Hold Room." When you place a hold, you can see how many other holds are placed, as well as how many copies are available. This varies like crazy, but I've generally been lucky in getting the books I request in a reasonable amount of time. 

Lately I've had a bit of a pileup in all of my holds becoming available at once, but I did go a little crazy and request a ton of books, so I can't really complain about too much of a good thing. This just means I have to step up my game and read more/faster, which is actually a good thing since I work best under pressure (and with deadlines aka due dates).

Below are a few of my recent reads, all of which have been from the library:

Below Stairs by Margaret Powell

I blame Downton Abbey for my recent interest in the servant life, and seeing that Below Stairs was an inspiration for the creation of Downton was all I needed to know to pick it up. It's a relatively small book, and a quick read — I think I was finished in just a few days. Written in the 60s,

Below Stairs is an easy, straight-forward portrayal of what it was like to be Margaret Powell, who worked in domestic service in London since the age of 15. It's not a very colorful or particularly fascinating account, but Powell is genuine, if a bit dry, in her story-telling. I tend to seek out books that plunge me into a world wholly different than my own, and Below Stairs definitely did just that. It's almost impossible to imagine a world in which £24 was a realistic annual salary, or where kids would work for weeks gathering and selling horse manure just to be able to afford to see a movie. I'm hoping that Servants is a bit more interesting, but Below Stairs did a good job of satisfying my appetite for all things turn-of-the-century British.

Twelve Patients: Life and Death at Bellevue Hospital by Eric Manheimer + Gracefully Insane: Life and Death Inside America's Premier Mental Hospital by Alex Beam

I used to think it was absolute sacrilege to start a book and not finish it, even if I had to force my way through it. I still have a hard time shaking the thought that I'm failing when I stop reading a book that I've started, but lately I have come around to the idea that it might be ok to just move on to something that interests me more.

 Twelve Patients  and Gracefully Insane were two books that, despite their incredibly promising premises (life at Bellevue Hospital and a history of an insane asylum), I found myself struggling to keep reading. After a few weeks of forcing myself to pick them up again, I eventually returned them and moved on. I think that a lot of what makes a book enjoyable is hitting it at the right time in my life, so I may return to these eventually and give them another try (especially  Gracefully Insane, which I think I started at a time when I was a little burnt out on non-fiction).

The Poisoner's Handbook: Murder and the Birth of Forensic Medicine in Jazz Age New York by Deborah Blum

Let's be honest: I'm probably never going to find a husband while reading books with titles like "The Poisoner's Handbook" on the subway. But then again maybe I'll meet someone who is just as interested in weird, creepy topics like I am and we'll live happily ever after, never quite trusting each other when we prepare dinner or drinks for one another.

The Poisoner's Handbook was one of the best books I've read in a long time, and I would recommend it to anyone. It's nonfiction, but reads like a novel and every story told is fascinating. I didn't think I could go wrong picking up a book about poison, toxicology, forensic medicine and New York City, but it definitely exceeded all expectations. I liked The Inheritor's Powder when I read it, but now when I compare the two, Poisoner's is most definitely the better, and more entertaining book. As a bonus, I now know how to, and how not to, poison someone in 1920s Prohibition-era New York, if you're into that.

Nine Years Under: Coming of Age in an Inner-City Funeral Home by Sheri Booker

My interest in the funeral industry has been going strong since last year, when re-reading Stiff reignited my need to know about all things death-related. While I think I'm close to reaching my saturation point with funeral home memoirs, Nine Years Under was a worthy addition to the genre. It was an easy, enjoyable read and detailed more of the personal (instead of technical) side of working at a funeral home. The urban setting and female point-of-view was a nice change from the suburban white male perspectives that seem to dominate the industry.

Recent Reads

A Natural History of the Senses by Diane Ackerman

I actually finished Senses back when I first moved to New York in July. It was my first book by Diane Ackerman but it certainly won't be my last (and I've already finished my second, see below). Some people complain that her writing is a bit wordy, and I would agree but I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing. Especially in Senses, her wordiness is never boring or repetitive and only helps to create a better sense (SEE WHAT I DID THERE) of the complex issues she's explaining. 

I find the human body endlessly fascinating and I think this is a must-read for anyone that currently inhabits one. Senses are such extraordinary systems and for months after reading this you'll be that annoying person who can't wait to chime in with an interesting tidbit (did you know that smell was the very first of our senses to develop? and it was so successful that in time the small lump of olfactory tissue atop the nerve cord grew into a brain??). I own another one of Ackerman's books, The Moon By Whalelight, that I've yet to read, and A Natural History of Love is also on my list.

The Zookeeper's Wife: A War Story by Diane Ackerman

Speaking of Ackerman, The Zookeeper's Wife was an entirely different kind of book in style and subject matter but I loved it just as much as Senses. The premise was enough to hook me (and maybe the fact that it's a Norton book so I got it at a heavy discount) but it definitely did not disappoint. 

It covered a viewpoint of WWII and the Holocaust that I had never really read about before, and the real-life characters couldn't have been more interesting if they were invented entirely. It's a pretty long book, but I found myself plowing through it, not wanting to stop reading. I was sad when it was over, which is always the hallmark of a great book.

Dandy Gilver and the Proper Treatment of Bloodstains by Catriona McPherson

Confession: I picked up Dandy Gilver…from the dollar racks at the Strand based solely on the cover art and typography (by Jessica Hische, but of course). I'm no stranger to this method of book selection, and I'm not embarrassed to admit that it usually works out quite well.

Dandy Gilver was a nice change of pace from the nonfiction I'd been reading, and is a fun and light mystery novel, featuring the titular woman detective.  I enjoyed this one so much in fact, that I immediately began another in the series, but Bloodstains was definitely the better of the two. I'm fascinated by servant-life in the early 1900s (thanks Downton Abbey and Gosford Park!), so the combination of murder-mystery, time-period and cast of characters made for a great read. I've placed a hold on the newest Dandy Gilver novel at the library, but until it comes in I'm taking a break from her world for a while so I won't suffer Dandy fatigue, something I came quite close to by the end of the second book.

Empty Mansions: The Mysterious Life of Huguette Clark and the Spending of a Great American Fortune by Bill Dedman and Paul Clark Newell Jr.

If I had to pick a standout of the four books discussed here (although they really were all great) it would have to be Empty Mansions. I bought it on a whim after reading a New York Times Review that piqued my interest, and I'm so glad I did. The true story of the eccentric and absurdly rich copper heiress Huguette Clark is completely fascinating. The book is entertaining and compassionately sympathetic in how Huguette is portrayed, which I appreciated. The story of the Clarks is so odd and fantastic at times that it could have easily veered into tabloid sensationalism but I never felt as if the authors had anything but respect for the family (maybe because one of them actually is family). Empty Mansions was another hefty read, but it went very quickly and I would have been just as happy to read twice as much on the subject.

Recent Reads

Since I've moved to the city, I've been reading like crazy. I've always been a total book nerd, but as I got older it seemed like the only time I had to read was right before bed. This meant that in most cases I would could barely read two pages before nodding off. Of course there were still books able to triumph over my geriatric fatigue, like the Hunger Games trilogy, Gone Girl and Julia Child's My Life in France, but they were few and far between.

Now that I spend a great deal of my day on public transportation, however, I read all the time. Add to that my new day job as a designer for the publisher W. W. Norton— I get a 70% discount on all of our titles — plus frequent trips to the dollar racks at the Strand, and I've been devouring books left and right. 

Inspired by Kaylah's "What I've Been Reading" feature (we even seem to have very similar taste in books), I decided to periodically review the books I've been reading. Up first:

The Undertaking: Life Studies from the Dismal Trade by Thomas Lynch

My interests have always tended toward the side of creepy, and I'm fascinated by anything to do with dead bodies or the funeral industry. Earlier this year I read Stiff, which reinvigorated my thirst for knowledge on all things dead. Thomas Lynch is a famous poet, but he's also the son of an undertaker, and now runs the family business. The Undertaking wasn't as interesting as Curtains (a Kaylah suggestion - thank you!), but Lynch has some interesting thoughts on death as well as life. It's a fairly quick and easy read, but don't expect many gory details — to be honest, it was kind of disappointingly tame for my macabre tastes.

The Devil in the Shape of Woman: Witchcraft in Colonial New England by Carol F. Karlsen

This was definitely the most disappointing of the four, and the one that I was actually the most excited about. Witchcraft! Colonial New England! How could you possibly go wrong?  I am so interested in that time period and the idea of witches that I was expecting to be enthralled but, alas, I was not. The book is much more scientific and much less narrative than I had hoped. It mostly read like a really dry, statistic-heavy textbook, and lacked description that may have kept me more interested. I struggled to finish it, but I did end up learning more about the causes and effects of the witchcraft hysteria, so it wasn't a total loss.

Slimed! An Oral History of Nickelodeon's Golden Age by Mathew Klickstein

I wrote about the night at the 92nd Y centered around the new book, Slimed! a few weeks ago, and I finished the book soon afterwards. The oral history format was a bit hard to follow at times, and I did wish for more of a narrative structure, but overall it was a fun read. I'm still so familiar with every show covered in the book, and reading about what took place behind the scenes was a real treat. The 10-year-old in me relished every random fact, while the 28-year-old in me is still jealous that the book was written by a guy who is basically the same age as me. If you spent even half the time I did as a kid parked in front of a TV tuned to Nickelodeon, you won't regret reading this book.

The Inheritor's Powder: A Tale of Arsenic, Murder and the New Forensic Science by Sandra Hempel

I just finished this history of arsenic poisoning yesterday, and it was definitely my favorite of the four listed here. The book is half informative science, half murder mystery and I wasn't bored for a second. It's also quite a quick read, and the author mixes in enough nerdy science to make you feel as if you learned something, while being simultaneously entertained by various cases of real-life whodunits, all involving (or allegedly involving) arsenic. It's fascinating to me to imagine a time when forensics and all of the complicated testing techniques we have now didn't exist. It kind of makes you wonder how many innocent people were convicted (and hanged) based on faulty science. If I learned anything, however, it's that arsenic poisoning is not a pretty way to go, and to never, ever trust your servants.

Nickelodeon's Golden Age

If you ever wonder how I became the person I am today, look no further than every single show that was on Nickelodeon when I was a kid. I wasn't particularly athletic and I didn't have many neighborhood friends, so I spent nearly all my free time watching TV. That might sound sad or unhealthy, and maybe it was both, but it was also really, really awesome. I was a Nick kid, through and through, and my TV never strayed too far from good old channel 28 (why do I remember this?).

I'm certainly not alone in this experience, and I'm always delighted to meet someone around my age with whom I can reminisce for hours about the "golden age" of Nick. So it should be no surprise that I bought tickets immediately upon discovering that the 92nd Street Y was hosting a "Historical Celebration of Nickelodeon." Based on the new book, Slimed: An Oral History of the Golden Age of Nickelodeon, the event promised to bring together cast and crew from an impressive list of shows such as Double Dare, Clarissa Explains it All, Are You Afraid of the Dark, Nicktoons, etc. The tickets were only $15 (with a discount via TimeOut NY), which is only 50 cents more than it costs to see a movie here in the city. I wasn't sure exactly what to expect (the description was a bit vague) but I knew that no matter what, it would be worth it.

If I'm really being honest, few things in my life have had more of an impact on me than '90s Nickelodeon. I can still remember Stick Stickley's address (PO Box 963, New York City, New York State, 10108) and every word to the Log jingle, even on days when I can barely remember my own cell phone number.

I had never been to the 92nd Street Y before, but the theater was pretty small so there wasn't really a bad seat. Marc Summers was the host of the event, and he was wonderful — a little older, a little fatter, but surprisingly funny and his booming voice brought me right back to being a Double-Dare/What Would You Do/Unwrapped-watching fan again.

The night consisted of a series of panels, each one centering on a specific show or topic — top Nick executives from the era, You Can't Do That On Television, Double Dare, Clarissa Explains it All, Nicktoons (specifically Doug and Ren and Stimpy) and a catch-all at the end for various cast and crew members. I was a little young for You Can't Do That on Television ('79-'90), but the panel included two main cast members, Alasdair Gillis and Christine McGlade, and it was interesting learning about the show that basically started it all (including the famous slime).

The Double Dare panel was probably the most fun, with Marc Summers reuniting with cohost Robin Marella and the announcer, Harvey. It was mentioned that Melissa Joan Hart was supposed to make an appearance on the Clarissa panel, but couldn't make it, which was unfortunate. However, Jason Zimbler (Ferguson) and Sean O'Neal (Sam) were there, and it's worth noting that of all the former Nick kids, time has been the most kind to Sean (i.e., he is a total babe).

Before the Nicktoons panel, voice actor Fred Newman (Doug) performed the Doug theme song and it was absurdly awesome. I'm not above admitting that it actually gave me chills, not because I particularly even liked Doug, but he was so spot-on with the sound effects that it was just a really cool thing to see and hear live. They also did the Beets hit "Killer Tofu," which was great until the audience started clapping along (my number one concert pet peeve). I was surprised to see the super-talented voice actor, Billy West (Ren, Stimpy, Doug, Roger Klotz, Futurama, Looney Tunes, etc.) on the Nicktoons panel. It was a total treat to hear him switch effortlessly between Ren and Stimpy or Doug and Roger. Constance Shulman (aka Patti Mayonnaise, aka Yoga Jones from Orange is the New Black) also did a little Patti, but that's basically just her normal speaking voice.

The last panel included Phil Moore from Nick Arcade, the dad and big Pete from The Adventures of Pete & Pete, Ross Hull (Gary) from Are You Afraid of the Dark, Kelly Brown (Brad) from Hey Dude, and Trevor Eyster (Sponge) from Salute Your Shorts. It was a super fun and interesting night and I'm so glad I went. The whole program was a little more than three hours, but I wasn't bored for a second. I even got my book signed by Marc Summers, even if I did feel super nerdy doing it.

I'm about a third of the way through the book and I only started it a few days ago. It's a little bit hard to follow since there are so many people giving their recollections, but it's almost not even necessary to keep them all straight. I am totally jealous of the author, Mathew Klickstein, for having the idea to write about something I know most people my age still can't stop talking about. But without him the night at the Y would have never happened, so I guess I owe him my thanks (in addition to the $17.95 I paid for the book).

The Strand Bookstore

No matter how many new and exciting things I find to do in the city, one of my top-five favorite destinations will always be the Strand bookstore. Home to 18 miles of books at 12th and Broadway, the Strand is my happy place. I find it absolutely impossible to feel anything but excitement every time I walk down Broadway and catch sight of the red Strand banners and sidewalk racks of discount books.

I've always been a sucker for books —especially discount books — but the Strand is so much more. In its current location since 1957 (and in business since 1927), the Strand was once one of 48 other bookstores on Fourth Ave., then known as "Book Row." It is now the only one left, and even without having been in any of the others, it's not hard to see why. There's something magical about the Strand that can't accurately be described, but if you're a book lover and you've been there, I'm sure you've felt it. There are four floors — basically: non-fiction in the basement, fiction on the ground floor, children's and art on the second and a rare book room on the fourth — and while I'm not sure where the "18 miles" tagline came from, you won't be disappointed by the selection. They sell new, used and rare books and I don't think I've ever left empty handed.

In addition to actual books, they sell some pretty great gifts too — cards, mugs, shirts and my personal favorite: tote bags. I've been collecting Strand totes since my very first visit, and it's impossible for me to pick a favorite. The designs change frequently, and they're always coming up with something new that I can't resist. During my two-month stay this winter, I obviously had to buy this cat version, which I haven't even used yet because I'm kind of terrified to get it dirty. Most recently, I was just about to leave the tote area empty handed when I spotted a khaki-colored one that I touched because it looked soft (and I touch everything) and then flipped it over to reveal a screen printed coffee-cup pattern (!). If you'll recall I'm kind of obsessed with the classic "We Are Happy to Serve You" NY coffee cup, so it was a very pleasant surprise and one of the quickest decisions to purchase anything I've ever made.

I also lucked out in the discount book department, which can sometime be very hit or miss (I found dollar copies of this and this). Browsing the sidewalk racks is probably my favorite part of going to the Strand. The store itself is packed floor to ceiling with books, which is why I love it of course, but can make for some very crowded browsing on the busier days. You have more room to breathe outside, and can browse at a more leisurely pace. The racks are separated by price, with most hardcovers at $2 and paperbacks at $1. There is occasionally an even lower price book mixed in — I found a vintage copy of "The Cat You Care For" for 49 cents a few years ago that I will treasure always.

The Strand is a great place to spend a few hours on a rainy day (if you can stand the hot, sweaty, moist crowds), and be sure to check out their list of events. They are always having book signings, famous speakers and occasionally do less cerebral things like speed-dating. I cannot wait to be able to visit the Strand on a much more regular basis. While ordering books from Amazon is convenient, it will never be able to replace the joy that I get from browsing a real life bookstore. Incidentally, most of the books I've bought from the Strand have been much cheaper than if I had gotten them online, and I get to read them immediately, without paying or waiting for shipping.