January's books

I decided early this year that I'd keep a book diary month-by-month, rather than the humongous year-end dump I've been doing in recent years. That allows me to talk about books throughout the year—and G(g)od(dess) knows I love to obsess about books. This is also a way to keep straight with myself and identify some of my freakish patterns. (I have a good idea about some of those freakish patterns, but putting it in black and white allows less room for rationalization.)

So here's the first entry. I picked a great day to preview it—on this secular American holiday of Superbowl Sunday. Consider it "alternative programming." Again, my habit of picking up books and putting them back down again without finishing is no sign of lack of interest. I tend to have several going at once, always, and tend to be easily distracted.

Books finished in January: Requiem by Graham Joyce; Tiger Eye by Marjorie M. Liu; Halfway to the Grave by Jeaniene Frost

Books begun in January: Rapture in Death by J. D. Robb (reread); The Brief History of the Dead by Kevin Brockmeier

Books Purchased in January: First, an excess of explanation before I get to the actual list.

Still on a bit of a buying binge from when I had all those gift certificates. I should slow down, and probably will, but…

I wanted to start buying at least one book a month from independent booksellers. (Note: want, not resolved. I don't do resolutions.) Although there are many specialty and religious bookstores on the Westside of Los Angeles, unfortunately, alas and alack, all the general interest independents I frequented over the years here have gone out of business: the inestimable Dutton's, Midnight Special, Westwood Books, Papa Bach's, A Change of Hobbit (although I still have some of their bookmarkers) (and Barry R. Levin is still around), so many others—and now Book Soup is in jeopardy. This reinforces prejudices, I suppose, that Los Angeles is an intellectual wasteland filled with superficial lightweights, but what can one do? Facts is facts. One independent bookstore manages to eke out a living right on Venice boardwalk—Small World Books—but it's extremely difficult to get to. It really is a great place, and I used to walk to it from my apartment on 18th Avenue, but parking down thattaway is impossible. There's also one incredibly snooty bookstore in Venice which I'm not even going to name—and certainly not going to patronize….so they can patronize me.

I am not going to let this stop me, however. I shall make a better effort to find an independent bookstore and to single-handedly keep the publishing and bookselling businesses going.

( The actual list. )

( My review of Requiem. )