Wow, I’m running behind on my reading recaps. Also wow, my reading has slowed down so much this fall! With all the craziness on my plate, I’m less likely to be found reading and more likely to while away the evening hours screwing around on my phone and going to bed early.
This month, I unintentionally read only female writers. I also read primarily YA. Considering I haven’t been following new releases in the genre that closely this year, this took me by surprise. Looking at the list, there’s a lot of fluff here. But it was enjoyable fluff that distracted me from a hectic fall. For that, I’m grateful.
- Number of books read: 5
- Number of pages read: 1,975
- Number of audiobooks listened to: 1
- Number of rereads: 1
- Longest book: Tower of Dawn by Sarah J. Maas
- Shortest book: The Path Between Us by Susan Stabile
- Highest rating: Sky in the Deep by Adrienne Young
- Lowest rating: Wildcard by Marie Lu
This past weekend, I had the opportunity to attend a two-day conference called Evolving Faith. It was hosted and curated by some of my favorite Christian writers, Sarah Bessey and Rachel Held Evans. It took place in Montreat, North Carolina. The campus was beautiful, nestled in the arms of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Walking around Lake Susan, exploring the streams and trails, there’s a deep sense of peace. You feel in your bones that you are walking on sacred ground.
Now, what is evolving faith? Each of the speakers at the conference offered a different definition. Evolving faith is a faith that changes. It adapts. It breaks down. It reconstructs. It identifies problematic narratives and strives to imagine new ones. Jen Hatmaker likened it to the story in Genesis about Jacob wrestling with God. Evolving faith is a faith that challenges, questions, wrestles and, like Jacob, has the audacity to ask for a blessing anyway. Jeff Chu introduced us to the “theology of the compost pile” where all the wretched, useless, and discarded things are transformed into rich soil that brings new life. Evolving faith acknowledges the darkness in ourselves and in the world and chooses to light a candle anyway.
What I loved so much about this conference is that it addressed head-on all the topics that are notoriously avoided in United States’ churches. Things that are whispered in the back of our minds as we sit in sanctuaries were named boldly from the stage. Speakers called out the idol of white supremacy, the strength, beauty and dignity of minority communities, the evils of the Trump administration, the immediacy of climate change, and the problematic fact that the majority attendees were white. Speakers called us to both “burn shit down” and strive to be peacemakers. There was rage. There was hope. There was the call to live in tension.
Oh, man, I struggled to get through books this month. It took ages to get through a single title. Life has been absolutely crazy and it’s impacting my reading life. A new job, new semester of grad school, and variety of other factors and responsibilities leave me exhausted at the end of the day. I’ll read a few pages, then put the book down in favor of my Facebook feed.
My first foray into the work of Agatha Christie slowed everything down. The Murder at the Vicarage sucked up over a week of my life, keeping me from the books I actually wanted to be reading, which was very frustrating.
Looking at this month’s list, I notice an equal blend between YA, adult fiction, and faith-based nonfiction. Thinking about this month’s list, the books that really stand out are the nonfiction. This surprises me, as my go-to brain candy is usually fluffy YA. But there’s so many avenues of personal research I want to pursue right now. Sadly, grad school gets in the way of most of that reading.
- Number of books read: 6
- Number of pages read: 2,148
- Number of audiobooks listened to: 2
- Number of rereads: 1
- Longest book: Empire of Storms by Sarah J. Maas
- Shortest book: The Sin of Certainty by Peter Enns
- Highest rating: The Sin of Certainty by Peter Enns (4.5 stars)
- Lowest rating: Murder at the Vicarage by Agatha Christie (2 stars)
With August comes the end of summer reading. In my last month’s recap, I mentioned a big stack of books in my room I hoped to cover before starting up grad school again. I made it through everything in my pile except A Room of One’s Own. After four years away from Virginia Woolf, I thought I was ready to return to her again. (I even wrote her a break-up letter back in 2014). Alas, I was wrong. I guess our reunion will have to wait.
Something I noticed this month was a lack of quality YA and an increase in nonfiction. Of the YA I read, none really captured my attention. They all took longer For nonfiction, I read an in-depth analysis of Harry Potter, a book on the Enneagram, and made it halfway through an excellent collection of essays about walking. (The walking book will have to wait until my next school break to finish. It’s fascinating, but slow.)
After sitting on my to-read list for many years, I finally got to read The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern! I was so excited about this one, it was my book club pick for the month. I absolutely loved it.
- Number of books read: 10
- Number of pages read: 3,127
- Number of audiobooks listened to: 2
- Number of rereads: 2
- Longest book: Legendary by Stephanie Garber
- Shortest book: Why I Wake Early by Mary Oliver
- Highest rating: The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern (4.5 stars)
- Lowest rating: Ash Princess by Laura Sebastain
Some notes on my stats:
- Audiobooks are included in total page count. It takes me longer to listen to a book than read it, so I count them
- My ratings are on a 5-star system and are ridiculously subjective
If you want more information about each book, follow the links embedded in the titles. That will bring you to the book’s Goodreads page.
I’ve always loved the idea of summer more than summer itself. When I think of summer, I think of possibilities. Maybe I’ve read too many YA novels, where the season often represents an idyllic in-between time when anything is possible. Maybe that’s why I love YA novels so much. Everything in your life can change between May and September.
Benjamin Alire Sáenz describes it this way in his book Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe:
I loved and hated summers. Summers had a logic all their own and they always brought something out in me. Summer was supposed to be about freedom and youth and no school and possibilities and adventure and exploration. Summer was a book of hope. That’s why I loved and hated summers. Because they made me want to believe.”
In reality, summers are less glamorous. They’re hot, humid, and don’t even get me started on the mosquitos! Growing up on an apple orchard, summer meant long hours of tedious farm labor: crawling up and down ladders and digging up weeds in the dirt. Even when I worked as a camp counselor and the season was everything it’s promised to be, I never got enough sleep, was perpetually dirty, and there were always campers to care for.
Every year, I go into the warm months with rose-tinted glasses. I’m filled with so many ideas for all the people I will see and adventures we will have. Every year, I reach the middle of August and realize all I did was sit at home, mow the lawn, and read a lot of books.
This summer, though, I wanted things to be different.
This summer, I wanted to believe.
July has passed us by and it’s time for another reading recap! This month, I wrapped up my summer grad school classes and dove into several of the titles that have been burning on my to-read list for months. Overall, it was a really solid month of books! I thoroughly enjoyed almost everything I read.
During June, I made a physical pile of books in my room I wanted to cover this summer. I’d stare at them longingly before I went to sleep each night, waiting for classes to be done so I could read them. When the time came, I was surprised that the first title I grabbed from the pile was The Great Gatsby. It ended up being the perfect palate-cleanser as I transitioned into summer break. The next title I picked up was Tomi Adeyemi’s debut, Children of Blood and Bone, one of my most highly-anticipated books of the year. For my morning Christian nonfiction, I had the delight of reading Rachel Held Evans’ new book on the Bible.
After such a solid month of reading, I’ve been waffling a bit on what I should pick up next. I’ve started three books in the past week and none have hooked me. What books have you read recently? I’d love to hear about them in the comments!
When a dear friend tells you they’ve encased their soul in paper, it is best to tread carefully. Poetry is an intimate form of literature. To translate your inner trials, triumphs, and longings into language and is a brave thing to do. I deeply admire McKenna Hight’s courage in sharing her debut poetry collection, Sublimity, with the world. It’s an act of hospitality I’m honored to receive.
Before proceeding, I’d like to say a few things about my relationship with the author. Sometimes in life, you meet people and find instant kinship. You may only be around each other for a few days, but that’s enough to form what will likely be a lifelong friendship. McKenna, I think, is one of those people. We met four months ago during my brief Spring Break stay at Rochester L’Abri. She’s a writer from Atlanta and we bonded instantly over our mutual love for YA fantasy and Sarah J. Maas. During our short time together, we had some really intense discussions about faith, struggles, and how we are to live. Meeting McKenna was no accident and I value her friendship immensely.
As a blogger, bookstagrammer, librarian, and amateur book critic, it made complete sense to do a review of Sublimity. I use the word “review” lightly. This post is pretty long, as I get into some close reading, but that’s part of the fun. While it’s definitely possible to critique a work of poetry by its structure and adherence to literary form, poetry is hard to pin down. So much of a poetic work is subjective. Poetry is a conversation. It’s about immersing yourself in the figurative language and gleaning whatever you can. I don’t pretend to understand all of Hight’s poems. I don’t think understanding is the point. There is no concrete meaning to poetry and there is space for a thousand interpretations. Poetry is about the journey, so let’s journey together.
If you’re interested in picking up your own copy of Sublimity, you can do so at this link. Follow the author on Instagram @yawnsters.
Ten years ago, I started my first blog.
As far as blogging origin stories go, mine isn’t that exciting. A friend from a Harry Potter fan forum recommended the hobby and I followed her advice. Clearly, this girl was onto something because while she and I lost touch years ago, I’m still here.
I don’t know if I’m very good at blogging. Frankly, I’m not really interested in being good at blogging. I couldn’t care less about statistics, follower counts, and publishing content on any kind of schedule. Blogging, for me, isn’t about performance. It’s something I do for myself. I write because I love it and don’t want to stop.
Over the years, blogging has taken on a variety of forms and functions. Keep Your Feet has been whatever I needed it to be at any given time. During my final years of college, I talked a lot about transitioning from one stage of life to another and figuring out where to go next. When I was solo-trekking across Europe, I wrote about my travels. These days, you’re likely to find me gushing about whatever book I have recently fallen in love with. I’ve written for a variety of reasons over the years: to process, to clarify, to share, to remember, and to grow.
I didn’t start my blogging journey on Keep Your Feet. I’ve actually bounced around quite a bit. When preparing to write this post, I did some sleuthing and can confirm that my original blog from 2008 still exists on the Internet. As I read those initial posts penned by my fifteen-year-old self, I was a bit shocked to see how much I’ve grown. My writing has shifted and changed as I have.
Since ten years feels like a significant milestone, I thought I’d share some nuggets of blogging wisdom I have acquired over the years. This is by no means a conclusive list, nor do I claim special expertise. However, the act of writing this post has helped me reflect on how and why I blog the way I do, which has been a fruitful line of inquiry. Enjoy!
I didn’t realize how exhausted I was until I arrived at L’Abri. For the past six months, I’ve been going so hard that I didn’t even notice that I’ve been functioning on empty for weeks. As I neared the end of my summer classes, when I thought about how I wanted to celebrate reaching the halfway point of my master’s degree, the only place I could think of was L’Abri. I’m drawn to this place in times of weariness; when the world is heavy, frustrating, and confusing. Here, in this little refuge overlooking the city of Rochester, I always find peace and rest. This weekend was no exception.
It’s been months since I’ve done any kind of life-update on my blog, so let me catch you up to speed on what’s been happening in Amelia-land. First, let me show you where I’m writing. Imagine yourself with me at this table, a mug of tea in hand, enjoying the golden hour as I ramble on.
I’m frugal with my five-star ratings, but any book that can make me cry deserves all the stars.
When I first read The Book Thief at sixteen, I didn’t see what the fuss was all about. It was good, but not great. I liked the writing, the story, and enjoyed the characters well enough, but it didn’t make an impression.
This time around, the book absolutely wrecked me.
I picked it up for one of my summer grad school classes and it was love from page one. I opted for the audiobook and soaked in every minute of my daily commute. Zusak’s writing is incredible. The characters are well-formed, with realistic development and motivations. The book’s themes about the power of words and the inconsistency of humanity are so well-implemented, I can’t get them out of my head. It’s taken me a month to sit and write out this review because there’s just so much to think about.
Reading The Book Thief as an adult was also a very personal experience. I’ve recently experienced several deaths and this book helped me grieve. I finished the same day I learned one of my favorite library patrons had died and the last fifteen minutes of the audiobook had me sobbing uncontrollably on my way home from work. I was a total traffic hazard. For someone who doesn’t cry often, this kind reaction is noteworthy. I haven’t connected with a story on this visceral a level in a long time.
Overall, this is the kind of book that you can’t look away from. It’s the kind of story that haunts you for years after reading and keeps bringing you back for more. It’s the kind of story that worms its way into your being. It sounds strange, but I feel a more complete person after reading this book.