Packaging my spare copy of The Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver up this morning for the lovely Marie of Boston Bibliophile, and started thinking about all the books I read and never write about. The Lacuna being one of them. My book club read this one months ago while we were still up to our posteriors in snow, and everyone enjoyed it but perhaps were not amazed by it. The sections in Mexico were vivid and fast-going making the protagonist's return to the states seem (intentionally) drab. The ending was satisfying but predictable. Leftists inclined to read Kingsolver do not require the leftist historical primer. And most importantly for me, the execution in all its deliberateness was a wee bit sterile, mechanical. Much like the experience I had with People of the Book by Gerladine Brooks. Found both books enjoyable in parts but ultimately, even though of course I want to read a well-structured novel, I do not want to see it being built. "Here is my blueprint, see how carefully I follow it" approach rarely works for me. So I was unmotivated to write about it.
Another reason I sometimes skip the post is when something touches me personally. Not immediately capable of a detached review, and unwilling to reveal that much of myself to all you lovely strangers in the blogosphere, I just skip it. The latest John Irving novel, Last Night in Twisted River, was a case of this. I know many say they outgrew Irving in college but I have a deeply personal reaction to his novels for a variety of reasons. To read his most recent novel, to see him back in prime form again was a most satisfying and personal reading experience for me. Perhaps I will re-read this summer and post, but at the time I read it upon its release, I was not ready. I highly recommend the book though.
Not all my reasons for not writing about a book are that complicated. Laziness. Lack of time. Hated it. No one reads my posts on poetry it seems. I read children's books for a living but this is not the appropriate home for that discussion in my mind. One thing I never do is look back and think that I have a backlog of things to review. Anxiety producing and takes a little of the joy out of my hobby. Aside from the occasional book tour or shared read, I read and write when and if the spirit moves me.
I am curious as to how many of you do the same. And how many of you stick to a tight schedule. Perhaps feel a sense of obligation to your readers to review all you read? Or want to adopt a sense of professionalism in the blogging endeavor? I think that all approaches have to work for the individual, but have been struck lately by the number of bloggers feeling a little crispy around the edges. Taking breaks from the stress, the time suck that blogging is beginning to represent to them. Where do you fit in this blogging snapshot?
Just starting The Unnamed today when time permits. What are you reading in the Sunday Salon today?