Born Round: The Secret History of a Full-Time Eater by Frank Bruni
Good book. Bruni writes with the honesty, clarity and compassion that can only come from walking through fire and hail and living to tell about it. He’s lived an impressively productive life. His battle with his addiction to food and his descent into bulimia and drug use were his dark secrets for most of it. It’s sad and complicated and, magically, endearingly funny. The irony that he now is a well-known and respected food critic is not lost on him. There are no easy answers and no blissful happy endings. This is a writer that stopped running from his demons and turned to face them, with sometimes more painful consequences than even he expected. It’s a compelling read.
Under the Dome by Stephen King
Dammit, Stephen King. I like you. I like a lot of your books. But I barely made it through the first 100 pages of Under the Dome. Couldn’t finish it. It’s The Stand all over again. A group of people are isolated from civilization with tragic consequences. I couldn’t read this story because I’ve already read it. Years ago. New ideas, Mr. King, new ideas. With all due respect, of course.
Eating the Dinosaur by Chuck Klosterman
Klosterman’s new collection of essays is less laugh-out-loud funny than his classic Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. He covers a variety of topics, from ABBA to David Koresh to the stupidity of time travel and laugh tracks. There are two essays on sports, which might be a great thing for some of you, and a boring thing for others. Just push past them if you have to—it’s still worth reading.
You Better Not Cry: Stories for Christmas by Augusten Burroughs
I’m a fan of Augusten. I’m a sucker for a good memoir. But this book and his last one, A Wolf at the Table, bum me out way too much. His writing feels progressively darker and disturbing. And sometimes that’s alright, but we need to come up for air, and he’s not giving us much to work with. You Better Not Cry: Stories for Christmas is his collection of Christmas-themed essays. If you’re a Burroughs fan, definitely read it. But if you’re not familiar with his work, don’t start with this book. And yet, the final essay, “Silent Night,” should absolutely be read by everyone. The old Burroughs shines through, and through the darkness, he shows some possibility of radiant light and redemption.
Olga Navia is a teacher by trade. She also has a blog, All Bodies Rise, that hasn't been updated in some time, mostly because she's been reading everyone else's stuff.