37. We Tell Ourselves Stories in Order to Live

Came across this list, and now I’m wishing they could rush the release dates so I can round out my summer reading.

Especially looking forward to:

Her first book since the middle-school classic.

This compilation by the woman who wrote the scariest story I’ve ever read. 

“A magnum opus for our morally complex times from the author of Freedom”

In the meantime, currently reading: quiet (because it’s cheaper than therapy).

Happy Reading!

37. We Tell Ourselves Stories in Order to Live

26. Not That Kind of Girl


I devoured this book.

It got delivered on Saturday in a sturdy brown box (thanks amazon prime), and by Monday afternoon, I had that empty feeling that comes when you’ve finished something good (not unlike binge-watching a tv show).

I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not her biggest fan. I didn’t get pulled into “Girls”, despite multiple attempts to sit through the episodes, and I am guilty of once comparing her body to that of a turtle (I’m only human). But this book is good.

And it’s good firstly because Lena Dunham is a good writer. She writes deftly about first times, first jobs, and first therapists. She makes it something more than just a confessional, or “just a memoir.” Coming from a generation that published this book (and I’m going to add this one as well), this book brings substance and art back to the genre.

Secondly, she never questions whether her experiences are worth sharing. That would be the biggest critique of a twenty-something upper-class white girl writing a memoir. Probably exactly the reason why, in the title, she puts “learned” in quotes. It’s one of the first things she addresses in the book – almost as if to say, “Let’s get this out of the way.”  Because, honestly, isn’t it about time we owned our stories?


“There is nothing gutsier to me than a person announcing that their story is one that deserves to be told, especially if that person is a woman.”




If I’m being truthful, I ended up picking the book (instead of this one) because of Michicko Kakutani.  And homegirl never steers me wrong.

26. Not That Kind of Girl

18. Feminist Fridays

Just wanted to put this out there, as this resonates with me more than I care to admit.

Third-wave feminism and a look at two new books: 

Consider Spinster‘s concern with the way women melt into their relationships: “It wasn’t merely that my identity was constructed entirely out of my relationships with other people — my relationships were my identity. My relationships took the place of myself,” she writes. Anyone who has worked with younger women will tell you this mentality is neither unusual nor specific to Bolick’s milieu. Subsuming yourself in relationships, no matter how empowered you were raised to be, is a common affliction of growing up in patriarchy.

(so it’s not just me?)

“The only way for a woman, as for a man, to find herself, to know herself as a person, is by creative work of her own,” wrote none other than Betty Friedan. The secret that Toni Morrison’s story reveals is that women, in fact, do better by their loved ones — whether in traditional, unorthodox, or unofficial arrangements —  when they buck the messaging and become their most fulfilled selves, refusing to be swallowed by relationships or reduced to them.

My feelings about (third-wave) feminism and how women should treat other women can be summed up by Amy Poehler,

“’Good for her! Not for me.’ That is the motto women should constantly repeat over and over again. Good for her! Not for me.”


18. Feminist Fridays


“To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world.”

The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry…is being made into a movie.

And Jeff Bridges will always be the perfect gruff father figure.