Yellow Wallpaper

 In 2020 I read 122 books; that's 12 more books than I read in 2019 ( see this post ). I set a goal to read one book of poetry a month, and the 11 I did read just about made up the difference (although I counted the March trilogy as one thing, so I guess I could say I really read 124 individual books). I read 27 books by men, 92 books by women, and 3 books with mixed authorship. There were a few more books with multiple authors, but if the authors were the same gender, I counted them with that gender.  I read 78 books of fiction, 33 nonfiction, and 11 poetry collections. The breakdown between fiction and nonfiction has remained pretty consistent for the last thirteen years that I've been keeping track of my reading. So has the breakdown between male and female authors. As I was counting up my totals, I started to feel a bit worried about the fact that I always read more fiction and always read more books by women. But why should I worry if I know what I like? I can still suppo

Savage Appetites: Four True Stories of Women, Crime, and Obsession by Rachel Monroe I had read one of Monroe's pieces before this book (I believe she did expand it), and had vaguely heard of the other three stories she tells. This book reflects on why she is interested in reading about crime, and why other women might be too (and why some women commit crimes). There were a lot of interesting tidbits scattered throughout the book that lead me to reflect on both the stories we tell and the stories we consume. Love Your Life by Sophie Kinsella Kinsella's books have been inconsistent for me; sometimes they are really fun and tell great stories, and sometimes they just don't work. This book had a great premise that didn't ever pan out. The main character was supposed to be cute and fun. Instead, she's pretty annoying and never changes much. The book is meant to show that both she and her love interest need to change in order to be more compatible, but it seems to favor