I finally have enough juice in the tank to write the first draft of my latest novel, so that has been keeping me busy lately. My daily word count is 500 words minimum a day when I’m writing a first draft, but things are flowing smoothly, and most days I write about 1000 words. At the moment, I’m 38,000 words in and I have no idea how long the first draft is likely to be.

While I was gearing up to write my first mystery, I spent a few months reading mysteries to see how they played out on the page. Now that I have a chapter outline for my story, I can expand my reading choices beyond Agatha Christie. Not that I don’t love a good Agatha Christie. I’m still reading mysteries (I’m currently reading Wilkie Collins’ The Moonstone), but not exclusively.  

Here’s the best of what I’ve been reading. 

Kafka on the Shore

By Haruki Murakami

This is the third novel I’ve read by Murakami (I’ve also read Norwegian Wood and 1Q84), and just as with 1Q84, I was blown away by this man’s imagination. Murakami’s imagination is an international treasure. He shows us that when we let our imaginations run free, we never know what kind of literary magic we might come up with. While at first the story seemed to go in three different directions, the various elements did come together in the end. I loved Nakata and thought he was one of the most endearing characters I’ve read in some time. I loved how Hoshino came into his own at the end, and he provided some great comic relief throughout. Not everything that happened was explained, which is common for a Murakami novel, but not everything has to be explained. As readers, we can use our own ideas to fill in the blanks. I’d love the ability to talk to cats myself. As with One Hundred Years of Solitude, I simply accepted the magical realism and let the story take me where it wanted to go.

All I can say is: Colonel Sanders. You gotta love it.

Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings

By Joy Harjo

Harjo was the first Native American Poet Laureate of the United States, and after reading only a few of her poems I understood why. Here Harjo shares the struggles of everyday life, past and present, while sharing thoughts about the strength of memory, both individual and collective. She faces the destruction of the Native peoples head on as she talks about tragedies such as the Trail of Tears. Harjo incorporates elements of music, both ancient and current with largely jazz and blues undertones. The music of native peoples provides the melody for her verse. I will certainly be looking to read more of her poetry.

One Hundred Years of Solitude

By Gabriel Garcia Marquez

This is the third time I’ve read One Hundred Years of Solitude, and every time I read it I feel like I understand the story a little more. For some reason, in this third reading I understood the cyclical nature of the Buendia family a little more as each generation repeats the mistakes of those who came before. The sense of being unable to escape your fate captured me a little more. And I was also able to keep track of the Jose Arcadios and the Aurelianos a little easier. Once you accept the magical realism of this world, it ceases to be odd. The magical realism just is.

I wanted to reread the book before I started the new Netflix version. I’m looking forward to seeing how they adapted this beautiful, haunting novel. 

Owls and Other Fantasies

By Mary Oliver

While I like Owls and Other Fantasies, which includes several short essays as well as poems, it isn’t my favorite collection by Oliver. In this collection, Oliver focuses on the harsh reality of nature, which is as much a part of nature as the beauty. Everything that lives must die. We all know this yet we like to pretend it isn’t true. Oliver doesn’t shy away from that painful reality. She understands that if we are going to bask in the light, we must also acknowledge the dark.

This is me being nitpicky, but I wasn’t thrilled with the essay about Oliver and her partner bringing an injured bird home to stay in their bathtub. I was left wondering why no one thought to call the wildlife rescue. Years ago I found an injured bird. I called my vet, who referred me to the wildlife rescue, and someone from the rescue came to get the bird so they could nurse it back to health. Why Oliver, who seems to have loved birds so much, would watch the injured bird slowly die is beyond me. The cynic in me hopes it wasn’t just to get a poem, or in this case an essay, out of the experience.

James

By Percival Everett

I had heard about this novel for some time but I was reluctant to give it a go. I’ve tried retellings in the past, and some are wonderful and some are really not–at least for me. I’ve always loved Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn, so I was more than a little curious about this book. After the holidays, I was in my local Barnes and Noble with my gift card in hand and I saw James sitting on a table. I decided give it a try. I’m so glad I did.

I loved that language was at the heart of this story–spoken, written, and read language. The language that the slaves speak outwardly to the slave owners is not the language that they speak to each other. The story was quite funny at times, yet Everett held nothing back when showing the horrific realities of American slavery. James goes from being Huckleberry Finn’s sidekick to a fully realized individual–from Jim to James.   

These are just a few of the wonderful books I’ve been reading lately. One day toward the end of 2024, I realized that I own a lot of books that I haven’t read yet. I decided that I wasn’t going to buy anything new this year while making the commitment to read what I already have on my shelves and my Kindle. It’s only February, but so far I’ve been doing a good job. I’m sure I already own enough books Ito get me through the year, and probably beyond.