A few weeks ago I had lunch with someone at work who asked what I was reading, and what I was going to read next. When I said I wasn’t sure what would be next, he seemed surprised. I do have a mile-long list—actually, several lists. I keep one in a private wiki, divided up into adult fiction/adult nonfiction/cookbooks/kids’ books/YA books, plus a few themed or source-specific mini-lists, e.g. “from the Princeton Architectural Press Autumn 2005/Winter 2006 catalog” or “cited in Paris to the Moon by Adam Gopnik.” I also have a set of private Delicious bookmarks, and a written-down list in the back of my planner, in no order at all. So I have these lists of books I’ve heard of from various places—book blogs, reviews in The New Yorker, reviews in Publishers Weekly, books that friends have mentioned, books mentioned in other books I’ve been reading … and then I have a stack of books on my desk, plus shelves of books that I own but haven’t read yet, or that I own and think I’d like to re-read, books I’ve bought and books I’ve been given and books that have been loaned to me and books I’ve found on the sidewalk. But I don’t make any definite plans until I’ve finished one book and it’s time to actually physically pick up the next one. Often it’s a matter of chance, or maybe, better, serendipity: of the books I read in December, three I saw at the library without having heard of them before, one was on my to-read list and got read when it did because I saw it at the library and checked it out, and the other had been recommended to me by a friend back in, oh, January, and I finally got around to reading it (and of course, that was the one I loved best.) Sometimes I’ll know I’m in the mood for a kids’ book, or for poems, or a great big long novel, but often I’m just in the mood for something good, no genre in particular.
I don’t have very specific reading plans for the new year, other than to carry on reading Proust, slowly, mixed up with whatever poems and novels and non-fiction books catch my eye and spark my interest. I want to read some more of the books I own—and to give away some books after I’ve read them, especially if they’re books I’ve found on the sidewalk in the first place.
And for an end of year summary: this year I read 37 books, categorized as below:
Graphic novels: 1
Books of poems (including a YA poetry memoir, which I am also counting as YA): 10
Adult fiction (novels or short stories): 11
Adult nonfiction: 5
Kids’ books/YA books: 11
Books translated from languages other than English: 8
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