2019 Summer Reading Begins — Join the Club!

When Memorial Day comes around, my mind goes to two thoughts: gratitude for those who have given their lives to defend my rights and freedom, and summer reading.

The first book of the summer will combine both: Dogs of War, a graphic novel I discovered at my library.

After that is anybody's guess. Oh, I make a list, check it twice, and read some of the titles — but most summers, I stray from the list because the next new book captivates me, and I lose track of all of the books.

The best part? It's the beginning of the 2019 Summer Reading Club.

The Summer Reading Club lasts from the Friday before Memorial Day to the first day of autumn — so, this year, from May 24 through September 23.

To join the club, just send me a message or comment below, then read as much as you wish. Spend long summer days lounging with a book and a cold drink. I want you to be so immersed in your books that you forget about lunch. The club member who reads the most will receive a book from me. You get a book you like, I get to give it to you: that's a win-win!

In return, I ask that you give back. For every book read, I want you to pledge time or money: donate to the public or school library, little free library, or literacy program of your choice. Choose cash (a buck a book, or the cost of all books read, or even a copy of the books themselves) — or find out how your library or literacy program prefers its donations. Remember: volunteer hours are an excellent way to give back, whether it's to the library or another organization of your choice.

So, back to the matter at hand: books. Right now, I foresee a Summer of Sequels, which includes (in no particular order): 

• Of Blood and Bone
• The Map of Days
• Waking Gods
• Wolf Hall
• Lady Cop Makes Trouble
• Time's Convert
• The Bear and the Nightingale
• As Chimney Sweepers Turn to Dust
• The Map of Time (re-read)
• After the End of the World
• The Storm of Locusts
• Mary Poppins Opens the Door
• Peril in Paperback: A Bibliophile Mystery
• Probable Paws: A Mystic Notch Cozy Mystery

Oddly enough, I am not really a fan of book series. Under most circumstances, I rarely continue beyond the third or fourth book, especially if there seems to be no end to the series or there are large gaps between the installments. I will pretend I waited until now to start the Cromwell series because Hilary Mantel has a publication date for the final book of the trilogy; thank you for playing along.

Here are a few other titles on my nightstand I'll add to the mix:

• Severance
• No Visible Bruises
• Children of Blood and Bone
• Where the Crawdads Sing
• Small Great Things
• Empire of the Ants
• Gingerbread
• I was Anastasia
• One Day in December
• The Book of the Unknown
• The Lilac Girls
• We Were Eight Years in Power
• Behind the Scenes at the Museum
• The Keeper of Lost Things
• 4 3 2 1
  
• Anything is Possible
• Norse Mythology
• The Power
• Hamilton: The Revolution
• The Intuitionist
• Ready Player One
• The Book of Harlan
• The Lost City of Z
• The Gun Seller
• The Lowland
• And the Mountains Echoed
• Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter 
• The Sixth Extinction
• Bellman and Black
• Just Mercy
  

Warning: my "finished" list will most likely look very different than the list above. That's fine. Your list probably will, too. If you share your STBR (Summer To Be Read) list with me, I am glad to share it with your fellow clubbers — or you may post it in the comments below.

We are all friends here. We do not judge each other's reading choices or media. Enjoy your E.L. James or your Encyclopedia Brown. Listen, or look at a page or pixel. Your fellow readers may ask questions, maybe offer suggestions for other similar reads or good book resources, and we always appreciate reviews or feedback. Reader to reader, we can have fun. 

Best of all, no pressure! No matter how many books you read (or don't), you are still a reader and we're glad you're in the club.

So, who's in? Let me know!

Perdu • National Poetry Month

Perdu  

I no longer appear

in photos. No one pictures me

in the moment. Poolside, red

plastic cup in hand, smiling faces,

a dripping child on a grandmother’s

damp lap, squinting into the sun. Bride

and groom in white, surrounded by

well-dressed pastel-flocked crowd

on the dark parquet dance floor. Groaning

picnic table, red and white checkered

tablecloth, tanned patriarch flanked by

children and grandchildren biting into

crispy black hot dogs, crunchy pickles,

sticky pink watermelon. Around

the dining table, goofing in the mashed

potatoes, a selfie with Dad. Adorable,
adoring stealth shots: watching tv, nothing

special, Happy Days reruns, teens in

identical superhero t-shirts, stuck in time.

There are no gaps, no holes,

no negative space unfilled.

I am not redacted.

I am naught.

by Chris Fow Cohen

with permission of the author

Spoken Word Poetry: I Think She was a She • National Poetry Month

I Think She Was a She by Leyla Josephine

Tattered Kaddish • National Poetry Month

Tattered Kaddish


Taurean reaper of the wild apple field
messenger from earthmire gleaning
transcripts of fog
in the nineteenth year and the eleventh month
speak your tattered Kaddish for all suicides:

Praise to life though it crumbled in like a tunnel
on ones we knew and loved

Praise to life though its windows blew shut
on the breathing-room of ones we knew and loved

Praise to life though ones we knew and loved
loved it badly, too well, and not enough

Praise to life though it tightened like a knot
on the hearts of ones we thought we knew loved us

Praise to life giving room and reason
to ones we knew and loved who felt unpraisable

Praise to them, how they loved it, when they could.

by Adrienne Rich
courtesy exceptindreams

How to Leave the World that Worships Should • National Poetry Month

How to Leave the World that Worships Should 


Let faxes butter-curl on dusty shelves.
Let junkmail build its castles in the hush
of other people’s halls. Let deadlines burst
and flash like glorious fireworks somewhere else.
As hours go softly by, let others curse
the roads where distant drivers queue like sheep.
Let e-mails fly like panicked, tiny birds.
Let phones, unanswered, ring themselves to sleep.

Above, the sky unrolls its telegram,
immense and wordless, simply understood:
you’ve made your mark like birdtracks in the sand -
now make the air in your lungs your livelihood.
See how each wave arrives at last to heave
itself upon the beach and vanish. Breathe.


by Ros Barber
courtesy RosBarber.com
Visit the website and get bonus material!

A Visual Poem in Honor of Arbor Day • National Poetry Day

A Visual Poem in Honor of Arbor Day

The Wound Before the Tomb of Walt Whitman • National Poetry Month

The Wound Before the Tomb of Walt Whitman


You who saw the vast oceans
and the peaks of the mountains,
who communed with all the sailors of the world
and you who saw Christ eat the bread of his last supper among the young
and the elders,
you who saw the executioner of Europe
with his ax soaked with blood,
You stepped on the scaffold
and the fields in which mothers cried to their dead children.

Tell me if it is still
possible to announce triumphant justice
and deliver the lessons of the new world.

I’m going to kiss your lips,
they are cold and taste like the word America.


by Fernando Valverde
 Translated by Carolyn Forché
courtesy poets.org