not so much book chat, but books and shit y’know y’know


Oh, book chat. We’ll get back to you in time. In the mean time, have a snippet of what I’m reading at the moment.

Yes, I am digging into all of these things right now. I genuinely read (and comprehend, yes. I had an ex who couldn’t understand that I was genuinely absorbing what I was reading as quickly as I read) remarkably quickly to the point that people tend to think that I’m just skimming. I used to have teachers get actually angry with me because I read so far ahead of my peers. You know that part in Mean Girls when Cady is having the visual synopsis of her first day, and the English teacher gets really pissy with her and goes “DON’T READ AHEAD”. Yeah, it was something like that, except a bit more pissy. My parents had to come in at one point to tell one teacher I had in middle school to calm the eff down. It was fun.


So, I go back to school on Tuesday (for my last full semester, by the way. Holla back girl, etc), and once I start that’s pretty much it for personal reading unless it’s a graphic novel and I bring it to work to read on my break. So, I’m trying to get through what I can because of course my last full semester I decided to make as intense as possible. Go me! Common sense I has it!

Not surprisingly, I’ve completed a few of these since I took this picture. I may or may not do a separate book chat for the ones that I complete. IDK IDK IDK WE MAY. We could get wild like that. But let’s take a look.

The Secret Loves of Geek Girls edited by Hope Nicholson is an anthology of various short stories, essays, and comics by female identified authors about love and geek culture. It was a relatively quick read, overall not bad. As with any anthology some sections were significantly stronger than others but I loved the concept as a whole.

Magic Knight Rayearth Volumes 4 & 5 by CLAMP is a manga series (and I believe there was an anime at one point?) about magical girls doing magical things. I usually describe it as Sailor Moon with swords and shit. And at one point there is some Power Rangers style zords and stuff. It’s odd and serious and great and I love it. It was my first real foray into manga when I was a kid outside of Sailor Moon and Pokemon and I grabbed hold of it like lightning. I’ve been looking for YEARS for the second part of the series without luck, until I found an omnibus of them on Amazon for a good deal, but then I found the individual ones at my local used book store for about $4-5 each and I snatched them up. The only one I couldn’t find was the last one (of fucking course) so I’ll have to order that from Amazon some how. Hurray. These two were hardly a let down from the first half, though. Apparently more shit is going down in Cephiro and Princess Emeraude is flipping out because she wants to bone Zagato and they need a new pillar and Hikaru, Umi, and Fuu are still trying to figure out why the fresh hell they are there. It’s great. Sigh.

The Best Awful by Carrie Fisher is a continuation of Postcards from the Edge (which was made into a film version and I VAGUELY remember watching it when I was a kid, and I have been trying desperately to find it but everywhere I find it you have to pay and I’m a cheap ho, tbh). So, fun story time. My friend Dev was in town and we were running around our favorite used bookstore chain because partly we wanted to but also I really, really wanted to find Carrie Fisher’s newest memoir. I already had wanted to read it, but her passing kind of made me want to read it even more. Well, they had it but they wanted full price and, again. I’m a cheap ho .But, they had one of her novels in stock, and I had no idea that she wrote any novels (which Postcards from the Edge should have been obvious but I guess I didn’t realize that was her? Who knows) and it was half price, because. Well. Used. So I snatched it. And it’s apparently a first edition so yay me. I haven’t started it, yet. Actually I was planning to this evening, so. Reporting back later. But from reading the back synopsis it appears to once again be a fictionalized account of her life so that should prove interesting.

Live From New York by James Andrew Miller and Tom Shales is a collection of interviews and behind the scenes history of Saturday Night Live. I started this at the beginning of winter break after finding it at McKay’s on my last trip to Tennessee to visit my boyfriend. This one has been taking me a bit to get through just because of how dense it is, but Jesus H. Christ is it fascinating. Anyone who knows me knows how much I love and adore Saturday Night Live. It has been my dream since I was about eight years old or so to be a cast member and a writer (specifically I want to be an anchor for Weekend Update since that is my favorite of all time, probably due to my obsession with politics and government and the news) so when I found out that this came out YEARS ago I became obsessed with somehow obtaining it. Welp, fast forward to September 2016 in a McKay’s in Nashville, TN as Nikolai and I are walking down biographies and then heavy breathing and gasping is emitted. As I said it is fascinating as fuck and some of the interviews are surprising, mostly because I think I either didn’t know or forgot that they hosted (e.g. Carrie Fisher, Robin Williams, etc) so I was taken aback but. Also, the amount of pure disdain for Chevy Chase is equal parts unsurprising, validated, and concerning. Because he’s kind of a shitty fucking person. But hey.

So, needless to say that this is not nearly everything on my to read list. I have actual stacks that I still have to go through mainly because I have an actual problem with leaving a bookstore (mostly a used bookstore) and not taking something. So between my local used bookstores, McKay’s when I visit my human, and then the fucking free bins (yes) outside of my local used bookstore, yeah. Yeah. But this is just what I’m focused on for now, mostly to try to get through or mostly through these prior to school because after that, well. If it isn’t by John Milton, classifies as political short science fiction, prison literature, or in spanish, I can’t fuck with it.



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