Whereas I have been sorting through my embarrassingly large collection of books; and
Whereas some of those books are being kept while considerably more books are discarded; and
Whereas I felt the need to both share the sorting/discarding, and to name this event The Great Book Purge of 2013; and
Whereas typing “The Great Book Purge of 2013” seems to be a problem when I’m posting in a rush or on a mobile device:
Now therefore know all men by these presents that the same activity may be abbreviated as TGBP2013 hereafter. At my discretion. (Translation: when I’m feeling lazy.)
Today’s discards are books dating to the chick lit fad of the mid 2000s. I’ve never read Candace Bushnell, and I DNF’d the first Bridget Jones book; other big names of that period like Emily Giffin and Sophie Kinsella left me cold. But there were a few books that I liked enough to keep. But upon re-read, eh, not so much.
Pushing 30 by Whitney Gaskell. I remember liking this because it managed to check the chicklit boxes while being slightly different: set in DC rather than NYC; not-broke heroine; professionally competent heroine in a non-fashion/advertising industry; older hero. I still like some of those elements, but felt a lot less patient with the heroine’s refusal to stand up for herself or respond in any way to criticism or adversity.
True Love (and Other Lies) by Whitney Gaskell. I can’t remember why I liked this book; the central conflict really bothers me now. I tried a couple other books by Gaskell after liking Pushing 30 but LibraryThing reminds me that I didn’t not particularly care for them. Must not have since she’d fallen off my radar until TGBP2013.
If Andy Warhol Had A Girlfriend by Alison Pace. I can’t remember what I liked about this book other than the cover art. It seems like an okay read but I can’t really remember the plot and don’t care enough after skimming random sections to go back and do a full re-read.
Up next: a bunch of YAs (Judy Blume, Cynthia Voight). Possibly with a break to read non-TGBP material — American Savage by Dan Savage.
This isn’t book-related but it is related to editing and proof-reading. I read menu boards as I walk through the neighborhood(s) nearby. Just to see what today’s specials are. After all, maybe I won’t want to cook after seeing what’s cooking. And sometimes what’s written on the sidewalk menu board sends me fleeing rather than stopping for lunch or dinner. Recent menu items that made me cringe: “tomato bisk” as soup of the day and a “prefix dinner” menu. Presumably the soup was a bisque and it was a prix fixe menu rather than language building block dinner menu? Stuff like that makes my fingers itch to update the menu boards.