Two days ago, I posted the first 10 of my favorite 2020 reads. Here are the second 10! Both lists are fabulous, and I like them each equally. I tried to balance the picks, so they'd be like flights of wine, except books. In this one, I tried to put the books in alphabetical order by author (as is my custom), but I became stymied by the formatting limitations of Blogger. I crashed around on the keyboard and considered moving the whole blog to SquareSpace or something, but that seemed like a lot of last-minute work. So, here you go, out of alphabetical order.

My Sister, the Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite.

Every year, I come across a few books that I call "like nothing I've read before." Memorable tomes in this category include all-time faves, A Tale for the Time Being and Dept. of Speculation. This year, My Sister the Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite is a contender. Told in tight, quick chapters, this is a slim novel about loyalty, sisterhood, jealously, and yes, bloody murder. I devoured it. The audio performed by Adepero Oduye is great.

The Talking Drum by Lisa Braxton.

In this historical novel, Braxton creates a satisfying arc for each character and also interweaves their stories. Black residents in two 1970s Boston neighborhoods, Petite Africa and Liberty Heights, are under siege by arsonists seeking to collect insurance money before the city claims the buildings via eminent domain and displaces the community. This is a story about gentrification and systemic racism, and Braxton pulls it off with spare, understated prose. 

The Girl with the Louding Voice by Abi Daré.

I thoroughly enjoyed this engrossing novel about child marriage and female empowerment. The first-person narration sucked me right in. Adunni, a Nigerian teenager in search of her own voice, infuses her heartbreaking story with humor and hopefulness. As a reader, I rooted for her from sentence one. I could imagine reading this alongside A Woman Is No Man, which is also about child marriage and forced labor, but has an entirely different (and also affecting) tone.

You and Me and Us by Alison Hammer.

Romance novelist January Andrews arrives heartbroken at her late father’s beach house. She's determined to pen another of her bestsellers despite every emotional obstacle. Little does she know that her college creative writing nemesis, Augustus Everett, has taken up residence next door. His heavy-duty literary fiction is renowned, and she’s sure he despises her happily-ever-afters. As they’re both struggling, they swap genres to reinvigorate their writing… and of course, fall in love. Loved this story, and also loved the commentary about what types of writing "count." (Spoiler: all of them!)

Wow, No Thank You by Samantha Irby.

I laughed so hard while reading this essay collection that my child told me to "chill," and my husband asked incredulously whether each sentence was actaually individually funny. Yes, okay? YES. Irby is now one of my favorite humor essayists, and as she's also an early 40s woman with a collection of related troubling symptoms, I feel a kinship. I can't believe I hadn't read her work before, and I have another tome on my shelf ready to dig into early in the new year. 

Bury Your Dead by Louise Penny.

I really feel that Louise Penny is a genius, and that this series--the Chief Inspector Armand Gamache Series--is genius. I love mysteries, you know. And, I love a great father figure. Armand Gamache is that, and this installment (the 6th in the series) drives that particular aspect of his personality home. While he investigates the murder of an amateur archeologist who's taken it upon himself to uncover the secrets of the founding of Quebec, Gamache also relives a failed investigation in which he's lost a young agent. Flashbacks reveal his sweetness and his regret. I always feel a little jealous when I read Louise Penny because she's such a great writer, and I am not yet as great. :) Start with Still Life. That's the first in the series.

Unscripted by Nicole Kronzer.

I'm cheating a little bit here because I definitely read this book in 2019, but it launched in to the world in 2020, at which point I couldn't stop talking about it. It's charming, delightful, relatable, and carries important messages for teenagers. Kronzer develops a winning and vulnerable protagonist, Zelda, who spends a summer at a male-dominated comedy camp in the Colorado Rockies. She adds in a supporting cast of hilarious and sympathetic kids, cultivates an important #MeToo girl power message, and sprinkles it all with funny improv jokes. I'm sorry, but who wouldn't give this book five stars?

Tuesday Mooney Talks to Ghosts by Kate Racculia.

Yes, astute and dedicated readers of my lists will remember a Kate Racculia novel in the other 2020 flight, as well. I was so delighted to discover Kate this year. She's a brilliant, funny writer, and her stories are filled with puzzles and surprises. Did you like The Westing Game as a kid? This author did, too, along with pop culture and words and riddles. In this book, an iconic Boston billionaire dies and leaves the city a treasure hunt. Tuesday Mooney, an prospect investigator for a nonprofit hospital, and a lovable supporting cast must face their demons to have a chance at the jackpot.

And that's it! I already finsihed my first book of 2021, and I know it's going to be a great reading year. Did I miss something great this year? Be sure to tell me. I'm always looking for reading suggestions.

Good news: I read 53 books this year! Since I don't finish books I don't like, I can promise I enjoyed them all. You can see my whole list here.

I've been doing these favorites lists for a long time, and this year I've decided to do a 20 for 2020. I'm going to organize the twenty books into two balanced flights. So, there's a romance and at least one mystery on each list, for example. There's some nonfiction both here and there. Each offering is a mix of "commercial" and "literary." I like each flight equally as much. Away we go!

Here's the first flight in alphabetical order by author.

People Magazine highlighted this compulsive novel as a "distracting thriller." I concur. The clever plot and smart writing sucked me right in, and I finished it in two days. What happens is this: some fancy women who were college friends establish an exclusive NYC co-working space. When the queen bee girlfriend goes missing, the kid-sister journalist of one of the Herd turns detective, and anyone could be responsible. I recommended this left and right last spring. It's quick, smart, and addicting.

The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett.

This is a truly engrossing character study that had me both thinking about identity and writer's craft. In it, we meet the Vignes twins. They run away from a small Southern town as two black teenagers. Years later, one of them returns with a daughter, and the other marries a wealthy white man, becoming his wealthy white wife. Bennett employs a sort of distant narrative style. It feels like you're watching a play, encouraged by the far-off view from the balcony to reserve judgment of the players. I listened to the audiobook, which was excellent and performed by Shayna Small.

Catch and Kill by Ronan Farrow.

Here's my take: Weinstein and Lauer and Trump are worse even than I knew. The women who spoke out against them are incredibly brave and strong. The attackers had all of the power and, in most cases, the money, and they used every tactic--NDAs, organized mudslinging, institutional pressure at every level--to maintain their reputations and to continue victimizing women.

Farrow blends personal narrative and meticulous journalism, and although I hated the terrible people and their despicable actions, I loved this book, too.

Let Your Mind Run by Deena Kastor and Michelle Hamilton.

I've read a lot of running books, and this is among the best. It's the story of American marathon record holder, Deena Kastor, and most poignantly, the way she accepts and transforms her thoughts. The takeaway is, "Find a thought that serves you better." I really came back to the message in this tricky year, and I wrote more about it here. I listened to this audiobook read by the author. 

Miracle Creek by Angie Kim.

If I had to pick only three favorite reads for this year, Angie Kim's literary mystery would be among them. The Yoo family runs a hyperbaric oxygen chamber which they tout as an experimental cure for all manner of conditions. When tragedy strikes, the reader and the characters set out to discover culpability. This is incredibly well done and compelling. It's about parenting, marriage, truth, obstacles, conditions--and one emotionally wrenching murder trial where the right person may or may not be in the defendant's chair. 

Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston.

I flew through this splashy, superfun romance. My friend Kathleen pointed out that the premise: that the son of the US president and a British royal prince fall in love and carry on a secret affair, is highly unrealistic. She's right. But guess what? It turns out I don't care that much about realism in this case. Plus #megxit! McQuiston's dialogue is witty and snappy, and I loved the happy ending for a LGBTQ+ couple. If you're in a reading rut, this might be the book to break you out.

Bellweather Rhapsody by Kate Racculia.

There's a Kate Racculia novel in each of my 2020 book flights! I discovered her this very year, and I think she's a genius. Bellweather is about a music conference for high schoolers at a remote, iconic, and falling-down hotel. Something bad happened in the hotel a long time ago, and that bad thing as it turns out, has never totally been figured out and/or put to rest. This book is cleverly written, populated with the quirkiest, believable people, and infused with tons of heart. I love it a lot.

Such a Fun Age by Kiley Reid.

This is both a page-turner and also thought-provoking. Reid delves into the complex relationship between mother and nanny while also allowing readers to interrogate their own beliefs about race, class, and power. I listened to the audiobook performed by Nicole Lewis, and her performance engrossed me. Months after reading, I keep thinking about what the ending of the book says about ambition and expectations -- and also what "types" of women have ambition and adhere to expectations.

The Sun Down Motel by Simone St. James.

What you have here is part ghost story and part serial killer/amateur detective mystery in a dual 1982/2017 timeline. Add in short chapters, smart writing, red herrings, and old-fashioned gothic noir, and you've got a book that will propel you from start to finish in a super satisfying reading experience. I stayed up really late finishing this, and since I'm usually asleep by 9:30, you know this is a really big deal.

Nothing to See Here by Kevin Wilson.

This is utterly brilliant. The premise is wild: Lillian and Madison are old friends from high school. Madison takes advantage of Lillian's love and loyalty in all kinds of ways, and Lillian lets her for all kinds of reasons. Many years out of high school, Madison needs Lillian for a really weird job: her stepkids are moving in with her, and they need a nanny. That sounds fine until Madison tells Lillian that the kids also start on fire when they're upset. I'm talking real flames. They don't get hurt, but all the stuff around them does. The book, which I plan to reread very soon, is about loyalty and ambition and failure and in the most touching and unsentimental way, love. God, I love this book. Top one of a great reading year and also an all-time fave.

It's been another month since I wrote anything here. Pretty soon this whole damn blog will just be laments about not writing on the whole damn blog.

Anyway, we're off on a weird Christmas adventure, locked down in our home as so many others are. Inspired by a colleague, I asked the children a week or two ago about what fun events in which they might want to engage.

They arched their eyebrows and sneered in response to this query. "What are you talking about?" one of them asked.

"Like maybe we can drive through a Christmas light display on the State Fairgrounds?" One of my third graders had told me about this diversion. She was awed by it. Of course, it's worth remembering that she is eight years old.

Still, the kids agreed to the lights, although without much enthusiasm. "Okay," they said. I did some quick research and discovered that the only available tickets were for tours that began after 9:45pm. I mean, I like fun, but I also have a bedtime.

So, I canned that particular light idea. Luckily, a colleague mentioned another fun tour where you get to tune into a radio station and Christmas music syncs to the holiday display! I booked a ticket for 6:30pm this evening. It would be early enough that we'd make it home for my 9pm retiring.

"We will be going to the Severs' Corn Maze Light Display!" I announced to the family with militant cheer.

Everyone feigned excitement. Or, at least everyone reserved their bellyaching. I promised drive-thru Chik-fil-A as a bonus. And then guess what happened? Our brown Christmas has been thwarted by the season's first big blizzard. It's happening this very evening at the same time as my light tour. We're getting between 5 and 15 inches with 2-4 foot drifts on top of the glaze ice that will form after a morning of rain and 40-degree temps. By the time I tuck myself in, the temperature will be below zero with fifty-degree wind gusts. 

So, the moral of the story is, don't plan any family fun. It won't happen, and your kids will just be in a position to tell you they told you so. You're welcome.

I am winding down my long-term global-pandemic substitute teaching position. In fact, I have finished my stint as the full-time teacher of the third graders. I will now write their report cards and then guide them in online school on Thursdays and Fridays in December.

I decided to stay on in a part-time capacity to help with the transition in the upcoming month. Their real teacher isn't coming back until January 4th, but I needed to be mostly finished at Thanksgiving. So now, a friendly and skilled gentleman who is also an administrative coordinator at our school and I will split the gig for the next four weeks.

I've learned a few things via this job and the lead-up to it:

• I enjoy teaching and miss it when I'm not doing it for long periods of time.
• The ideal amount of time for a long-term, full-time substituting gig for me is 8-10 weeks. I did my current job for 14 weeks full-time.
• I cannot write as much or as well when I am also teaching. 
• As writing is now my primary profession, it becomes a problem if I'm unable to perform this function. Balls, as they say, begin to drop.
• I think a half-time, secondary teaching gig would be sustainable for a longer-term, like a full semester or perhaps even longer. Since I'm new to elementary, it takes more work and a lot more thinking and research to come up with good plans and methods.
• The whole thing might be easier if we were also not in the midst of a global emergency.

I have replaced every ounce of my election anxiety with Covid testing anxiety.

I have come to need a test because of some reason at my Global Pandemic Substitute Teacher position. No problem! School provided a  free test. It was supposed to be fast and efficient. I found out on Saturday night that I needed to take it.

On Sunday morning, I logged into Zoom and a nurse watched me spit into a test tube. Then I boxed up the whole thing and drove the package to the UPS store. They said they'd deliver it overnight.

But was it delivered overnight? Have I received confirmation from the testing place? No, I have not! 

And, in the meantime, there are people at school waiting for me to return. I am letting everyone down with my slow testing performance, which is mostly beyond my control!

Other people have secured faster tests. I even got a faster test for Mac that I paid for with 100 dollars of my own money. I'd do that for myself, but now there are no appointments until Thursday.

I'm panicky. 

I realize I should calm down, but instead I've been refreshing my email at the same rate at which I was refreshing the goddamned electoral map. 

I wish things were not this way, is what I'm saying.

Sure, I got up at my usual hour, but I'm having a hard time doing my novel work.

It's election day.

I've been waiting for this day for four long years and also dreading it. The dread is purely selfish. It's: how the heck am I going to persevere through this long and anxious time?

I must say, I'm inordinately grateful for my busy and distracting job. I'll barely poke my head up all during the school day. Then, I'll go for a nice steady run. Maybe this is the week to accomplish the medium-long run I've been skipping in my weekly training plan. And then?

I don't even know. 

Hope for Florida? 

Arizona?

Or Georgia?

Keep a bucket for the puke by the couch and the television?

Suggestions welcome.