Brain Bugs, by Dean Buonomano: I don’t usually have this specific a vision for the structure of a book, but I really think this one – which details some of the ways that [our brains evolving to function generally at their best] can lead to [unintended negative (or simply superfluous) consequences], e.g. optimizing for short term benefits (the way we might have needed to when our survival was much less certain) rather than long-term ones – would have benefited tremendously from a much clearer and more explicit layout. (To be fair, that sentence would have also…) Rather than having to rely on the chapter titles to illuminate the “bug” of each chapter, I would have welcomed a more formal explanation: here is the function and how it would have been useful in the past/how it’s still useful; here is the “bug” and how it relates/what havoc it causes. The book never did this explicitly, but as it progressed the relationship between function and bug seemed to get clearer, and it also got more interesting as he discussed questions of religion and politics and infused more of his own opinions.
Her Body and Other Parties, by Carmen Maria Machado: Intense and amazing. Before reading it, I thought the Law and Order short story might be a few too many pages to devote to an episodic conceit, but then…did I really want it to end? I did not. Favorites were “The Resident” and “Eight Bites.” As a side note, I’ll read anything published by Greywolf (same goes for Two Dollar Radio).
The Woman Inside, by E.G. Scott: Meh. When books of this genre (that is, the “hoping to be the next Gone Girl or Girl on a Train” genre) are bad, they’re still relatively propulsive (AKA I finished it, though I’m not the best measuring stick since I have a hard time not finishing things)…but this is certainly no Gone Girl. There were some plot surprises, but I’m pretty easy to trick, and nothing felt particularly original. If the writing itself had held up, I would have been willing to accept a less-than-novel plot, but…now I’m wishing for another book that’s as original as Before I Go to Sleep (which, prior to some googling, I misremembered as Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep (nope) and then Before I Wake (also no)).
Severance, by Ling Ma: I was on the waiting list for this at the library for what felt like forever, and when it arrived it was longer than I expected, on a rainy day when I wanted nothing more than to lie in bed and read. It felt of a piece with what I would call…low grade epidemic novels? There isn’t any danger from the “infected,” not even transmission of the disease, but the world has fundamentally changed. I’m trying to build a list of other low-grade epidemic novels, because I’m sure there are more out there, but so far I’m thinking mostly of The Dreamers. Transmission of the “disease” in that novel is also murky – it’s never figured out, whereas in Severance there’s definitively no person-to-person transmission.
Disappearing Earth, by Julia Philips: Julia is a good friend and I’ve been in a writing group with her for years, so I’ve seen this book since its very first drafts (and am extremely proud to be in the acknowledgements!) She worked with her editor for more than a year to turn the books from a collection of linked short stories into a novel–so while the writing was as stunning as I remembered it, it was my first time really experiencing the plot. I can’t recommend it highly enough. Each chapter is its own bright jewel, but it’s now also an incredible tapestry. Am I mixing metaphors? If so, I don’t care – it’s a beautiful, spangly, jewel-strewn quilt.
