July 2026 Reading

It is theoretically possible that I could finish another book today, but given that the ones I have in progress are long and I’ve just started them, I am going to assume I won’t.  That means that my July reading total is 14 books.

 

Nine of those books were audiobooks.  It turns out that when I’m not excited about what’s on TV, I listen to a lot more stories.  I finished out Patricia Wrede’s Enchanted Forest series by listening to Talking to Dragons.  It is as charming as the rest of the books, although I found myself wishing Cimorene had a larger part.  It all wraps up nicely in the end, so that’s good.

 

I listened to three Terry Pratchett books:  The Colour of Magic, The Light Fantastic, and Equal Rites.  As always, I laughed and I thought and I enjoyed.  I am not the only one:  I have had to wait to listen to each book from the library.

 

While I was waiting, I have been listening to whatever Agatha Christie books are available.  That means I am jumping around in her works, reading some late books and some early ones.  It’s interesting.  This month, I listened to Cat Among the Pigeons, Why Didn’t They Ask Evans, Cards on the Table, Sleeping Murder, and Elephants Can Remember.  The plots are… complicated.  I mean, fiction is fiction, and I’m willing to suspend my disbelief a good bit, but there’s nothing plausible about evil twins, drug gangs, and the like.  That said, I have fun listening.

 

I read one kid book, cleaned out from my son’s shelf.  I had read it before, but long enough ago that I remembered nothing about it.  It was The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles by Julie Andrews Edwards.  It’s charming, if a little dated in its conception of sex roles.

 

Similarly, the one nonfiction book I read came from the same source.  The Ravenmaster by Christopher Skaife is a memoir by a Yeoman Warder at the Tower of London whose job it is to care for the tower ravens.  It’s chatty and fun and informative.  I’m sure we bought it on a visit.  As a book, it’s perfectly good.  As a souvenir, it is well above a tea towel, commemorative spoon, or fridge magnet.

 

I read three books that count as fiction.  The first is disguised as nonfiction:  Your Guide to Not Getting Murdered in a Quaint English Village by Maureen Johnson and Jay Cooper.  It is a send-up of all the tropes beloved by people like me who are addicted to Midsommer Murders and Grantchester and the like.  Quick, funny read and it was a welcome birthday gift this year that I finally got around to reading.

 

Nicholson Baker is the kind of writer who makes other writers cry, I think.  He’s that good.  The Anthologist is about a writer who is supposed to be writing an introduction to a poetry anthology.  There’s a lot about poetry in the book, but a lot more about how the writer’s life is falling apart and any number of brilliant digressions.  It’s not the most plot-driven book ever, but it’s a great ride.

 

Finally, I read Theo of Golden by Allen Levi.  It’s my mom’s copy of the book and I need to mail it back to her.  She loved it.  Like really loved it.  I… did not.  It is Levi’s first novel and it reads like it, in my opinion.  The prose does not flow for me.  For the first half of the book, I was willing to deal with that because I wanted to know what happened.  As the book progressed toward its end, I just got madder and madder at it.  Many people seem to adore this book.  It’s a best-seller.  And it is definitely not my cup of tea.  If you love it, you do you and I will leave you alone to do it, but, for once, I am not having a hard time returning a borrowed book.

 

July total:  14

Summer to date:  32

2026 to date:  74