It is 3:45AM and I have haphazardly decided to write book reviews and so I introduce to you the first new section to my blog: Books In My House.
It all started about a week ago when a couple of family members and I were casually browsing the thousands of books at the local Barnes and Noble. After my 20-minutes-too-long stop at the kiddie section, I ventured over to where most adults go and got my hands on a Mitch Albom book I haven’t read. I flipped it over, looked at the price, and in a couple of minutes, I was ready to pay. And then I soon realized I was ready to pay, not because I’m some sophisticated man who has a study full of literary masterpieces, but because the rest of my family members were coming up to me with a book in their hand and I just have major FOMO issues. I then had this moment of immense revelation in which I realized I literally have dozens of books sitting on the bookshelf in my room. And then I digressed heavily into thinking about how I hate how the room is decorated with baby pictures of myself that scare me half to death in the middle of the night. Just for some context, there’s also a plastic box full of old neck ties and a scented candle from TJ Maxx that has no wax left in it because we, as in my family and I, have no idea how to get rid of things in a timely manner and also because we have no grasp on the concept of feng shui.
And so I went home and.. nothing changed.
I think I went over to the bookshelf once in the next 48 hours and was truly amazed at how I knew none of the names that were printed next to the titles and was even more intrigued at how creases even appeared on some of these books because I know for a fact none of my family members read them. And then came a bit of disappointment seeing the three books I bought for my sister over the years still in pristine condition. I told myself she sees them as something to be saved for the right time, as sneakerheads do with a pair of Space Jams, but that analogy is stupid in every sense of the word because it’s universal knowledge that books are meant to be read, Sora Kwon. But it actually kind of makes sense if you really think about it because shoes are meant to be worn just as authors write books so people read them.
Anyways, so all that happened in a span of ten minutes and I was right back to doing what I normally do whenever I’m not out drinking my liver to death: glossing over the three articles I have on The Huffington Post which have amassed like 300 views altogether which is actually nothing, but I somehow find a way to make myself feel more important than I really am. Every time. Without fail. It’s all really twisted and I’m most likely developing into some kind of sociopath or psychopath, or at the very least, nurturing a mental illness.
And then a few days pass and I was having a particularly hard time praising myself and I was also sick of playing MyPlayer on NBA 2k16 because you only get a certain number of upgrades on your guy, but I didn’t know that and so I used ten upgrades on rebounding on a 6’2″ point guard resulting in an 88 rating with not enough points in the Driving Layup category which makes me miss these easy ass drives to the basket, and so out of sheer boredom and frustration at Glen “Freq” Kwon, I started to stare at the bookshelf from my bed while half naked under the covers. Mind you, there’s nothing better than being under my covers while half naked. You guys are welcome to try, and I’d prefer if it was a woman, but men are more than welcome. Anyways, I mustered up the strength to walk over to the bookshelf and was again amazed at how I knew zero names on the sides of these books.
But I pushed on. I touched one book, then slid out the next, blowing the cute little dust bunnies off the yellowing pages while flipping them over, looking for the one with the best reviews on the back.
I settled on one called Bird By Bird by an author named Anne Lamott. I chose this one because it had three raving reviews on the back by the LA, NY and Seattle Times, all of which have journalists I follow and articles I’ve enjoyed reading. It also says “Some Instructions on Writing and Life” which I really need because I do have dreams of becoming a journalist some day and because my life is sometimes a mess but most times a joke.
To my surprise, I finished it in two days. Of the roughly 20 books I have read in my life, this book is up there in top three books I have ever read, right next to Twilight and Eragon. Okay but really, it was a great read and I can’t wait to review it.
All that to say, I want to lay some groundwork for what you’ll be seeing throughout these blog posts.
I have decided to have a couple sections within each review.
First, I will relay my initial thoughts on the book without reading a single word beyond its cover; I will look at it, touch it, fondle it, examine how yellow the pages are, etc.
(Also, is this how you use semi-colons?)
Second, I will give the review and talk about how it changed my life and opened my mind to different perspectives. I’m being totally serious, by the way.
Third, I will give a verdict on whether or not I would re-read the book. I thought about doing a point system, but I was afraid I’d give a 5/5 for every book I finish as I do with most movies I watch. Re-reading, however, is a whole different beast, especially for me. This way, you’ll know what I think is a good book versus a great book.
Lastly, I will rank all of the books I have in order, with #1 being the best.
I plan on doing this until I have read every book written in the English language that I currently have.
First up: Bird By Bird by Anne Lamott