The ninth
edition of the “Scooties” books of the year was heavy on apocalyptic imagery.
Life intervened to slow me down toward the end of the year, but there were
still some solid reads this year.
Without
further ado …
#1: “Jennifer Government,” by Max
Barry
What I Say
Now:
This masterpiece of satirical literature is a showpiece for a clever
writer of Barry’s pedigree. This novel manages to live in multiple extremes: it
is clever, yet not completely far-fetched … it is hilarious, yet sad … it is
both powerful and ridiculous. I raced through this book and immediately found
myself jotting down other Barry books to chase in the future—the ultimate in
writerly compliments.
Passages
to Remember:
"John here," the other John said,
"pioneered the concept of marketing by refusing to sell any products. It
drives the market insane."
"He had a small, trim mustache but
otherwise looked pretty capable."
"We're all cogs in wealth-creation
machines. That's all."
#2: “Station Eleven” by Emily St.
John Mandel
What I Say
Now:
This was
an interesting, apocalyptic book that struggles against its own somberness, yet
features a humor that can sneak up on you. Mandel does a solid job of drawing
concentric circles of connections, but you’re occasionally spun down a rabbit
hole in following the story and what is happening in different threads. She did
a clever job of detailing water in the book as the giver of life, hope, and
pain, juxtaposed against air and flight.
Passages
to Remember:
"If you've been on the road for that
long," the prophet said, "if you've wandered all your life, as I
have, through the terrible chaos, if you remember, as I do, everything you've
ever seen, then you know there's more than one way to die."
"This life was never ours," she
whispers to the dog, who has been following her from room to room, and Luli
wags her tail and stares at Miranda with wet brown eyes. "We were only
ever borrowing it."
"She was thinking about the way she'd
always taken for granted that the world had certain people in it, either
central to her days or unseen and infrequently thought of. How without any one
of these people the world is a subtly but unmistakably altered place, the dial
turned just one or two degrees."
"Hell is the absence of the people you long
for."
#3: “In Cold Blood,” by Truman Capote
What I Say Now:
Capote’s painstaking
depiction of the mysterious murder of a Kansas farm family is marked by strong
scene-setting, good transitions, and long, clause-filled sentences. However,
the power of the no-nonsense writing has been somewhat obscured by recent
feature films that delve more into Capote’s flamboyance and attraction to (and
obsession with?) one of the killers—as well as strong intimations that the
author fabricated at least some of the quotes and scenarios. The repetition
toward the end becomes off-putting and the story loses steam after the
murderers are caught, as Capote struggles to find distinctions in the
perspectives offered by Smith and Hickock. Overall, however, a revolutionary
foray into a new brand of literature that still resonates to this day.
Passages to Remember:
"Like the waters of
the river, like the motorists on the highway, and like the yellow trains
streaking down the Santa Fe tracks, drama, in the shape of exceptional
happenings, had never stopped there."
" ... the left eye being truly serpentine,
with a venomous, sickly-blue squint that although it was involuntarily acquired,
seemed nevertheless to warn of bitter sediment at the bottom of his
nature."
" ... for the majority of Holcomb's
population, having lived for seven weeks amid unwholesome rumors, general
mistrust, and suspicion, appeared to feel disappointed at being told that the
murderer was not someone amongst themselves."
"It was like I wasn't part of it. More as
though I was reading a story. And I had to know what was going to happen. The
end." —Perry Smith
"The crime was a psychological accident,
virtually an impersonal act; the victims might as well have been killed by
lightning. Except for one thing: they had experienced prolonged terror, they
had suffered."
"Nonetheless, he found it possible to look
at the man beside him without anger--with, rather, a measure of sympathy--for
Perry Smith's life had been no bed of roses but pitiful, an ugly and lonely
progress toward one mirage and then another."
#4: “Bazaar of Bad Dreams,” by
Stephen King
What I Say
Now:
This
collection of short stories was perhaps not up to King’s usual standards, an
estimation perhaps influenced by the fact that I had previously read three or
four of these stories in other formats. However, there were a few standouts
that reeled me in in a big way, including “Premium Harmony,” “Batman Robin,”
and “Bad Little Kid.” I’m an unabashed fan of King’s work in the short story
genre, so any year with a new collection is a good year—even when comprised in
some degree by recycled stories.
Passages
to Remember:
“Until
a writer either retires or dies, the work is not finished; it can always use
another polish and a few more revisions.”
“Marriage
is like a football game and he’s quarterbacking the underdog team. He has to
pick his spots. Make short passes.”
“And
the years stretch ahead, a march beneath a sun that never goes down.”
“God’s
grace is a pretty cool concept. It stays intact every time it’s not you.”
“I
hate the assumption that you can’t write about something because you haven’t
experienced it, and not just because it assumes a limit on the human
imagination, which is basically limitless. It also suggests that some leaps of
identification are impossible. I refuse to accept that, because it leads to the
conclusion that real change is beyond us, and so is empathy. The idea is false
on the evidence. Like shit, change happens.”
“Be
grateful for the time you’ve had with him. A little bit of grace. That’s what a
good dog is, you know. A little bit of grace.”
#5: “Deep Breath, Hold Tight,” by
James Gurley
What I Say
Now:
Even in a
year where stories about the apocalypse held sway, Gurley’s stark, dark stories
were almost too much to take. Intertwining elements of Cormac McCarthy (“The
Road”) and Richard Matheson (“I Am Legend”), the author touches on depravity,
possibility, and responsibility. Though grammatical errors and some repetition
impact the reading, Gurley asks us to consider space vs. earth in terms of
potential vs. constriction, boundlessness vs. comfort, and selfish loneliness
vs. the compromising selflessness of shared dreams in an absorbing—at times
heart-wrenching—work.
Passages
to Remember:
"Church folk really lost their shit,
especially the ones who were convinced that Jesus had come back and forgotten
all about them."
" ... and keep me from feeling the sting of
every single day, the dread of every that was lined up behind it, heavy and
ready to fall on me, one domino after the next."
"There were no sunsets left in the world,
just a general draining-away of the light. I missed the moonlight, the stars.
There were times I forgot that there was an entire universe above the clouds.
It was as if a shroud had been pulled around the Earth. Over time, we would
forget everything that we had once struggled so hard to observe and learn and
prove."
"Nothing is ever really anything. It just
looks like something."
"Her tears spill over, and so do mine, my
long sleep over, my dark age turned to light."
Honorable
Mentions (in 10 words or less):
“Wuthering
Heights,” by Emily Bronte: Sweeping love story compromised by density of language,
atmosphere.
“Finder’s
Keepers,” by Stephen King: A bit too “Goonies” for my liking, but fun.
“Girl Who
Kicked the Hornet’s Nest,” by Stieg Larsson: Trilogy finale devolves, but ably
caps memorable series.
“Best
Short Stories: 2007,” edited by Stephen King: Memorable, well-chosen collection
of engrossing short stories.
“The
Elements of Content Strategy,” by Erin Kissane: Useful tool for burgeoning
approach to marketing copy creation.
“The
Mirage,” by Alan Ruff: Clever re-imagining of traditional worldviews puts
religion, politics in context.
“Shakespeare’s
Star Wars,” by Ian Doescher: Brilliant reformatting of epic showily displays
talented writer.
“Always on
the Run,” by Larry Csonka and Jim Kiick: “Butch and Sundance” share locker room
tales of undefeated Dolphins.
“Ernest
Hemingway on Writing,” by Larry W. Phillips: Just a collection of Hemingway quotes, but
engrossing nonetheless.
The Rest
(in 5 words or less):
“Deja
Dead,” by Kathy Reichs: Staggeringly unmemorable.
“Jab Jab
Jab Right Hook,” by Gary Vaynerchuck: Sparse advice from self-promoter.
“Content
Strategy for Mobile,” by Karen McGrane: Useful work-related tome.
“Planet of
the Damned,” by Harry Harrison: Solid story, thin development.
“Writing
Down the Bones,” by Natalie Goldberg: So-so depiction of writing process.
“On
Bullshit,” by H.G. Frankfurt: Great idea, weak execution.
“Five Days
in November,” by Clint Hill: Interesting, generic look at JFK.
“Time
After Time,” by Jack Finney: Sequel to classic falls short.
And
then you watch something worse
