It's time for me to jump on my soapbox and spread the word about all the great books I read last year. In 2021, I read 61 books. In 2022, I read 108 books! A personal best - and a record I'm not going to sweat to break in 2023.

Yep, 61 to 108 is a serious jump. Some of that is the 15 poetry books I read in August for The Sealey Challenge (less than half of its lofty goal to read a collection each day!), and some is when I hit the skids with post-Covid malaise and read a lot from Kate DiCamillo's wonderful opus for children.

Part of what makes my annual reading challenge so fun is that I track all my books in StoryGraph. StoryGraph is terrific. It's free, created by an African-American woman, and it has really cool features like insightful stats and clear graphics about your reading habits. It also offers terrific recommendations and isn't owned by Amazon like Goodreads. (To move all your data from Goodreads to StoryGraph takes just a couple of easy clicks!)

At some point last year, I stumbled upon this great list of books by native and indigenous writers from Elissa Washuta, and enjoyed a lot of great reads - many of which are in this newsletter. Here, in no particular order, are some of my favorites recent reads that I highly recommend.

POETRY: 
The Wild Fox of Yemen by Threa Almontaser, If They Come for Us by Fatimah Asghar, 1919 by Eve Ewing, Indigo by Ellen Bass, Girls are Coming Out of the Woods by Tishani Doshi, Averno by Louise Gluck, A Line of Driftwood: The Ada Blackjack Story by Diane Glancy,  Now Do You Know Where You Are by Dana Levin, and Come the Slumberless to the Land of Nod by Traci Brimhall. Perhaps the book that moved me the most was Prognosis by Minneapolis poet Jim Moore, written during quarantine and the efforts for justice after the murder of George Floyd.

MEMOIR/ESSAY:
My favorites: Safekeeping by Agibail Thomas is a gorgeous memoir that I wish I'd read years ago, as it opens up ways to tell the story of a life in small, pungent, often funny vignettes; her memoir A Three-Dog Life is great, too. The Witch of Eye by Kathryn Nuernberger is so smart and lovely, with each essay investigating the "horrors inflicted on so-called "witches" of the past." These Precious Days by the wonderful Ann Patchett is a collection of essays rooted in Covid lockdown that offer comfort, deep wisdom, and humor.

A very strong and engaging collection of essays about gun violence and gun culture is Carry: A Memoir of Survival on Stolen Land by Toni Jensen. The 1619 Project: A New Origin Story edited by Nikole Hannah-Jones expands on the New York Times magazine initiative; each stand-alone chapter is written by a guest writer. If you need something smart and light, with moments of wry wisdom, there is Happy Go Lucky and A Carnival of Snackery: Diaries (2003-2020) by David Sedaris. 

Other good ones are Emily Bernard's essay collection, Black Is The Body  and Don't Let Me Be Lonely: An American Lyric by the incomparable Claudia Rankine. I finally read Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants by botanist Robin Wall Kimmerer and don't know why I waited - each stand-alone essay is fascinating! My favorites were about maple sugar trees, sweetgrass, cattails, and about how to make black ash baskets starting from choosing the tree. 

CRAFT:
The Art of Revision by Peter Ho Davies is a game-changer! (See my review.) For years, I've led writing workshops using the groundbreaking process of Liz Lerman. This year, she explores the process she created decades ago in  Critique is Creative: The Critical Response Process in Theory and Action by Liz Lerman and John Borstel. Lerman's process is also referenced in The Anti-Racist Writing Workshop by Felicia Rose Chavez, which is full of insight and practical advice.

Puzzled about reading poetry and want an easier way to appreciate poems? Then check out the latest book by Stephanie Burt: Don't Read Poetry: A Book about How to Read Poems. Burt "dispels preconceptions about poetry and explains how poems speak to one another - and how they can speak to our lives." With the simple comparison of poetry and music "she shows readers how to find more poems once they have some poems they like." You would never say "I don't get music" the way people say "I don't get poetry." With music, you might like jazz not hiphop, or prefer heavy metal to disco. Poetry is vast like music, too. So, Burt shows you how to find poems with which you'll connect and enjoy. 

For a wonderful memoir/craft book, check out Melissa Febos' Body Work: The Radical Power of Personal Narrative in which she uses her profound thinking and usual badass candor to give us permission to tell our stories, write about sex and our bodies with courage and honesty. Shapes of Native Nonfiction: Collected Essays by Contemporary Writers edited by Elissa Washuta and Theresa Warburton is a great read and resource.

FICTION: 
The Hired Man by Aminatta Forna may be one of my favorite novels of the past decade; Forna can write about the effects of war with such subtlety and insight (her book Happiness is terrific, too). As a lap swimmer at my local Y, I really enjoyed The Swimmers by Julie Otsuka. The page-turner, The Break by Katherena Vermette, explored sexual violence and its aftermath, and included so many memorable female characters. Lauren Groff's short stories in Florida are sometimes grim but all pretty great. I also loved The Dutch House by Anne Patchett, Matrix by Lauren Groff, The Sentence by Louise Erdrich, and Music for Wartime: stories by Rebecca Makkai.

Thank god for funny novels! I thoroughly enjoyed the funny and charming Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus, The From-Aways by C.J. Hauser, and Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt - in which part of the story is told in the voice of an octopus! I also loved Now is Not the Time to Panic by Kevin Wilson (author of the absolutely awesome, Nothing to See Here about a set of combustible twins!)

There aren't enough superlatives for Kate DiCamillo. In 2022, I read a handful of her delightful books for young people. I especially loved The Magician's Elephant, Flora and Ulysses,(it's about a superhero pet squirrel who types poetry!) The Tiger Rising, and Because of Winn Dixie. If you don't know her work, I am sorry your life is so drab...so just go get them all, and let their awesome illustrations and hilarious and poignant stories do their work on you.

If you are giving books as gifts this year, I encourage you to buy them from your local independent bookstore when you're able to do so. What have you been reading?

This post originally appeared as s blog post for The Loft Literary Center. Below in its entirety:

Sometimes as writers we work on small things—some flash fiction, an essay or short story. We do a pretty good job managing our time and finishing our work. But then there are times when our dreams are bigger, and we want to tackle a large writing project—like a novel or a memoir. How do we prepare for the marathon versus the sprints we’re used to?
First, don’t panic. And don’t chicken out! Don't get daunted by the size of it or the newness of it. You’ve done this before, just in smaller pieces. Yes, there are new things to learn with a big project, but you’re skilled, and ready, and willing to learn. With a bit of planning, and a wider lens, you can see your large writing projects over the finish line, too. You just need to get organized a bit.

Organize your space
If you’re able, create a dedicated work space for your project. Do you have a home office or a desk in a corner of a room where you can leave your notebook open? If space is tight, no worries. If you work on your laptop at the kitchen table, is there a bookshelf or a box where you can keep your notes and resources? The key here is a gather all your materials in one place to keep your project visible and accessible.
Once you have your physical space organized, it’s time to organize your headspace!
Those three pounds of gray matter . . . often the biggest barrier for writers. It’s important to begin to mute the negative self-talk soundtrack in your head so you can stay balanced and in action. The goal isn’t to kill off your inner critics but rather to befriend them, to turn the volume down, to learn how to work with them. (For instance, your Perfectionist needs to be muted while you’re generating your first drafts, but she’ll come in very handy when it’s time to copyedit and proofread during the final laps.) As you can imagine, the bulk of my work with writers is focused on managing inner critics and other resistances. It takes commitment, mindfulness, and compassion to rein in your inner critics, but it’s essential to your mental health, the longevity of your writing career, and the quality of your daily life. 

Organize your time 
Obviously, if you’re going to write a book, you need to make time to do the work. This step takes some basic math, realistic planning, and steady accountability to stay on track—it also requires dealing with reality. A writing schedule only works if it works in your life situation. Realistic planning keeps goals do-able and overwhelm in check. How many words/pages have you got so far, and how many do you need for a first draft? Ok, got it. Now, how many pages/words can you write in a week? Do the math based on your real life, not an ideal week, because that never happens. Then, set a general goal (“I’ll have a first draft done by the end of the summer” or whatever), so the finish line is in sight. 
You might also need some tough love to look at where you are spending some of your time. We all waste time, but now some of that time can be spent on your project. A few shifts in your routine can help you build your writing habits over time. 
If you want to reach a big writing goal, then you’ll need to schedule time in your week to do the work. Without “writing appointments” in your calendar, you won’t reach your goal. You just won’t. It’s like the saying goes: A goal without a plan is just a dream. 
There will be ups and downs. What matters most is returning your butt to the chair, building community to help when you’re discouraged, and having a ridiculous, badass faith in yourself and your work. 

Organize your project 
Once you’ve set realistic goals and are building the habit of organizing your schedule to include specific writing times, you will want to continue to organize the project itself. This is something that you might have already done, or sort of done, but it’s essential to staying motivated, managing overwhelm, and using your time well. 
There’s no right way to tackle a big writing project, but there are some things that help a lot:

• Some kind of road map (maybe it’s a detailed outline, or maybe it’s some good notes and a sense of where you’re headed) can save you a lot of time, tears, and dead ends. 
• Be clear about the different elements of your project (research, generating, plotting, revising) and do those elements at the right time. 
• Continue to develop your writing skills with classes, workshops, and craft books. 
• Fold in other writers, readers, coaches, and editors when you’re ready. Writing itself can feel isolating, so build community and reach out.

The writing life can be a wicked rollercoaster, but you can do this. Isn’t it time to give it a serious try? The clock is ticking, and your book—and its readers—are waiting. 

​I’ve been thinking and reading a lot about revision lately. This spring I taught three classes with a focus on revision, and I have been working 1-1 with a poet in Dubai. A key book that’s been refining my thinking is Peter Ho Davies’ The Art of Revision. (Read an excerpt.) Sometimes reading craft books can feel like a slog, but Davies’ writing is direct, clear, and funny. At the size of a large postcard, and just 170 pages, this tiny gem packs the punch of a senior seminar. It’s practical, smart, and inspiring: a game-changer for writers of all genres.
 
A few main points Davies makes in the book:
 
1.Create a revision mindset—The practice of revision requires curiosity, a willingness to try, a patience to explore. We often jump into the weeds too soon and start nitpicking over diction or punctuation. What a way to kill the buzz! Instead, what if you approached revision as an act of discovery and exploration? An experiment to learn more about this thing you’re interested in, or to uncover a deeper meaning?
 
2.Revision is a thought experiment—Davies compares revising fiction to conducting a science experiment. Remember those from school? You’d come up with a hypothesis and test it? That’s what writers do. Like scientists, they follow leads to see what they can learn. Too many new writers dismiss this exploration as a waste of time, whereas scientists see a disproven hypothesis as a good thing! It gives them information, it eliminates a path and re-directs us in a fresh direction, as we take what we learned along with us. Those extra scenes or chapters you wrote taught you a bunch of things, and got you where you ended up with more confidence. Win-win.
 
3.Revision is about expansion—Revision is not just chopping. I can’t say this enough to my students. If writing is thinking (and we know that it is), then revision is expanding the text to discover what else is there, to gather more information, then contracting again when you’ve learned what there was to learn. Davies refers to the very draft itself as breathing—and I love that. It reminds us that our writing is a living this, so hacking away at it is not a great idea. As Davies notes, “We might understand expansion as the form patience takes on the page.” Brilliant!
 
With practical suggestions and helpful tips, Davies addresses a lot in this book, including:

• ways to reimagine revision so that workshopping is easier and more effective
• why to push past the shiny idea and not quit
• how to uncover or find the heart of what you’re really writing about
• how to know when you’re done and avoid over-editing something to death
• the importance of revising titles and how a “holding title” can often limit us
• encouragement to resist easy workshop advice to just chop off “problems” and instead follow those tangents into new territory that stretches you and your work

 
I could go on, but I hope you’re getting the picture!
 
In addition to The Art of Revision, I want to share with you two wonderful online magazines that are determined to take the mystery out of revision: Draft for prose writers, and the terrific underbelly for poets. Both journals show different versions of a piece, and include the author’s commentary about the revision process. I hope you’ll check them out and let me know what you think!

​I’ve always been a glass-half-empty kind of girl. Maybe one of the few good things that has come out of this time of isolation has been more time to read.
 
In 2020, I read 51 books. This year, I read 61 books (or 16,825 pages - thank you, StoryGraph!)

This year I moved from Goodreads to StoryGraph. I was a pretty spotty user of Goodreads, but after I read more and more troubling news about Goodreads (no surprise, since it's owned by Amazon!), I made the move, in a quick hot minute, and I am so happy. StoryGraph is free, and it has tons of cool features that a book-geek will love.

StoryGraph has a recommendations feature that is robust and spot-on. It has really insightful stats and clear graphics about your reading habits and it has a great and fair system for reviews (unlike the shenanigans going on at Goodreads). Last but not least, StoryGraph was founded by an African-American woman – who doesn’t want to support her team rather than give over more personal data to Bezos?
 
The one thing that is missing right now on StoryGraph is a critical mass of people. So, come join me, so we can build a big community on StoryGraph and support them! (Sadly, I made absolutely no money from that 100% honest, but very long bit, I just did about StoryGraph).

Here are some of those 61 books that I highly recommend: 

Poetry: OBIT by Victoria Chang, 1919 by Eve Ewing, The Renunciations by Donika Kelly, Nox by Anne Carson, and Girls Like Us by Elizabeth Hazen.
 
The most lovely, important collection I read was Prognosis by Jim Moore, one of my first poetry teacher. Like many of you, I have been struggling a lot these past two years, and Jim’s poems have helped me feel less alone. I haven't written much about the pandemic, or the heartbreak of watching my Minneapolis burn after George Floyd was murdered. These gentle, funny and soulful poems let me enter these recent times in a way that takes note, tends to our fears and grief, and offers a hope that’s neither simplistic nor superficial. They are small prayers for all of us, these poems.

Memoir/Essay: I read a lot of wonderful memoirs and creative nonfiction last year. One of my favorites was The Clearing: a memoir of art, family and mental health by Samantha Clark. I search high and low for books that tell the story of mental illness with accuracy and respect, and I was also very moved by Clark’s visual art. Other good reads were Girlhood essays by Melissa Febos (I can’t wait for her craft book, Body Work, coming out in March 2022), and The Suicide Index by Joan Wickersham.
 
Two of my favorites were a wonderful mix of memoir and literary criticism: All the Lives We Ever Lived: Seeking Solace in Virginia Woolf by Katharine Smyth and A Ghost in the Throat by Doireann Ni Ghriofa.

Craft: Literary magazines, writing programs, and publishers are beginning to address their own biased practices. There’s work for us all to do  - in our work and in our classrooms. I attended some great training sessions rooted in the work of two pivotal books: The Anti-Racist Writing Workshop by Felicia Rose Chavez and Craft in the Real World by Matthew Salesses. Other craft books to recommend are A Swim in a Pond in the Rain by George Saunders, Getting to the Truth: the Craft and Practice of Writing Creative Nonfiction from the good folks at Hippocampus, and The Business of Being a Writer by Jane Friedman.


Fiction: These four novels are truly awesome: True Story by Kate Reed Perry, Happiness by Aminatta Forna, The Haunting of Hill House and We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson. Over the past two years, I’ve read every book of Laura Lippman – a smart Baltimorean who writes good novels and thrillers as well as her fun Tess Monaghan series.

I'm already halfway through my first book of 2022 - These Precious Days, the wonderful new collection of essays by Ann Patchett. What are you reading?

I go to my weekly yoga class to get stronger, heal injuries, improve my balance, chill the F out, and get out of my head. I’ve been surprised that it’s also where I practice being kind to myself.
 
I’m pretty hard on myself, I know that much. But on my mat, I’m concentrating on good form or holding plank pose; I don’t have time for my mind to wander. I just count. I often fail at a pose that the rest of the room can do, but my good teacher reminds us to not go there, and I listen. I just notice my tight hips. I go gentle with my old back injury.
 
My yoga mat is where I don’t compare myself to others—despite the fact that there are some pretty pretzels in the room. This is progress, people! I compare myself to others all the time—it’s a bad habit and a source of much of my suffering—but not in yoga class.
 
I see them—the other writers—on Facebook and in press releases, cashing in their prize money, smiling at their huge mailing lists and Twitter crowds. I know they’re rising at 6am and writing effortlessly until they go do their perfect lives. They rough me up, these writers in my head.
 
What pulled me back from the doom today was remembering who I was on the mat this morning. That Me-Not-Comparing...she’s just doing her thing despite Miss Rubber Band in front of me, or the elegant older woman in the corner. Me-Not-Comparing sees them but doesn’t get hooked. I don’t know why, I don’t try to figure it out. But they land as possibilities for me, guideposts not measuring sticks.
 
On the yoga mat, I get a glimpse of a different part of myself. She’s not tangled up in striving and comparison—she’s got some space, a thin teal rectangle, to practice a different way to be.
 
What if I greeted the blank page like my yoga mat? A place to practice, paying attention only to what I’m doing at the moment, stretching and curious, doing just a short regular routine, focused and forgiving?
 
I’m gonna see how this goes.
 
What could your blank page become? An early spring plot to your Gardener Self? A new city to your Traveler Self? ​