My reading this year has taken a hit. There was a time I felt saturated with books and I could take in no more. My reading culture has been hanging by the thread of bookclub and this was our October book of the month.
We were sold on a romance book. We had just read Dark Matter by Blake Crouch, a science fiction and we wanted something light. The member who recommended this book had read 3 more by the author and she spoke highly of the writing style. I went in expecting my romance story and my description of this book would not feature romance much as there was a love story. It is more of historical fiction.
Elif takes us to Cyprus. I knew nothing about Cyprus when I picked this book. It’s inhabited by Greeks, Turks and few English people. The story is told by a Fig tree which narrates the ordeals of humans, animals, birds and nature at a time of war. The prose is highly descriptive and it reminded me of a literature tool we learnt of called personification.
Majority of the book club members loved this book and Elif’s writing style. One member hated that about the book but I think mostly so because he consumed the audio version. I had both love and hate. Love that the writing style was not the ordinary. Loved that we got to read about plants, animals and now I can bury and unbury a fig tree. Disliked the overly descriptive text. Disliked personification as it was unrealistic. I could not pin point a specific theme the book was bringing about but during the book club discussion, much came to light.
This writing is not for a surface level reader. A literature student would very much appreciate the text. I struggled reading to the end and I actually finished the book after the discussion. There is not much to write home about the book but I feel I must mention that it pointed out two things for me: Wherever you go, there you are and humans give differential treatment based on appearance.
I plan to give Elif’s writing a second chance but in the meantime, I would be careful recommending anyone to read this book. I look forward to the next book club meeting as I am now pinned to task in reading Eckhart Tolle’s A New Earth.
If you are on the verge of a rut, do not pick this up.
I would first like to express my gratitude to my 98 subscribers who saw my writing fit enough to opt to receive notifications each month that I have a new post. I mostly write because you mostly read. Starting out this blog 5 years ago, I had no idea how it would pan out but so far, I am immensely proud of my consistency in putting out content, the bravery that comes with bearing my heart out and the satisfaction that comes with reading my content. I do have notable subscribers who never shy from sharing their 2 cents and hitting the like button; Thank You!!! I literally am because you are. Your likes, comments, and views keep me going. (You would think I got nominated for an award; let us just carry on with that thought). Here is to 5 years 🥂🍾✨💫
My blog anniversary is co-shared with my brother’s birthday. Days to the 13th of August I think of him. A day to the 13th August I remember my blog and swell with pride. I would mention this as my biggest achievement in a job interview but who wants the follow-up question that would be to share my handle. Starting out, my goal was to have content and consistency but I never knew that I would keep that up for 5 consecutive years.
I still want my by-line. Apparently, the want is not bad enough as my senses have not taken leave. A day after the blog’s anniversary I received the below email which made me shed a tear.
I had come across an advertisement for a writing position and I shared the link to the blog as samples of my work. I thought my style of sharing my work showed a lack of effort on my part and I should have shared stand-alone posts. As always I forgot the job application and went on with my life.
I always wonder what would happen when I get a writing gig. Would that be the end of dimples migraines and aahs? After due diligence on this offer, I realized this was not the breakthrough that would fast-track my writing career. I was disappointed but quickly got out of my misery when I discerned that I have always been doing what I love which is writing way before anyone would give me their platform. On a work team building last weekend, I described my work in the company as reading and writing. I thought I had belittled my role as everyone’s description had gist which made mine lacklustre. I wondered why the vocabulary I had amassed over the years of reading was not self-evident. This week I grasped that there was no better description of what I do and realised that I do what I love daily.
What next for Dimples Migraines and Aahs? I would like to change the layout of the page and utilize the full potential of WordPress. I keep saying this and I want to commit. I want to write more, write better. I want to look back as I do now and be amazed. I want to proudly show off the work of my brain and not fear another’s judgement or perception of me because of it.
5 whole years!! I have not kept anything this long other than friendships. Yes 5, I did that, and still doing it.
Welcome new follower
I enlisted the services of chatGPT on what to write when my mind hit day 30 being blank. None of the suggestions appealed to me. I want to clean up the drafts that no longer make sense. They could not salvage the situation now and I do not think they will in the future.
I paused leisure reading in August, exam season was upon me #Adult Education. The exams were the norm, and my sentiments from Qué sera sera remain unchanged. I embark on this month’s book club Dark Matter over the weekend and I look forward to rereading the book and having a different perspective or the same from the first time.
2023 so far has been blessed. I am hitting an all-time high in the number of trips to the Kenyan Coast. This weekend I will visit Mv Logos Hope, a ship that is a moving library. The last ship of this kind was at the Kenyan Coast 18 years ago and I remember going every evening after school. My mum bought me a pictured Bible story which I loved and a book called The Singing Bear. It was the first novel I had and I dare say the visits to the Library and the two books fuelled my reading passion. Then I also cultivated my desire to travel the world by ship. I was impressed by the fact that this ship which is self-contained, a moving library, with staff of different nationalities, fully funded and operated by volunteers gets to dock in different ports every other 45 days.
I have been tracing more of my habits to my childhood. I am still learning, unlearning and re-learning. I generally sleep well, I eat too much fries and drink too much soda. I love, I am loved. I am struggling with better managing my finances. I value my friendships, family and relationships generally.
Today, I grieve for one of my closest friends who is laying her mum to rest tomorrow. My heart pains for her loss and every other loss any of my friends have had to endure in their lifetime. I feel like death robs us. It robs us of time with our loved ones. It robs us of the people we would have been had we not gone through the pain of loss. It robs us of smiles and living carefree because at the back of our minds, we know that joy and laughter can be replaced with tears and sadness in no time. I particularly grieve for each and every friend of mine who has lost a parent. I know the loss of a loved one but that of a parent is unknown to me. It hurts that there are no words that can be said to relieve them of their pain. It hurts that they will not have their lost parent to share their success and life journey with.
I hate pain, I hate loss, I hate grief. I hate that it lingers, I hate that once you know it you cannot unknow it. I hate that even though you know it you do not completely understand anyone else’s. If only each person could have the blessing of living without knowing grief, that is the wish I would ask my genie for.
Of course the tangent this writing has taken is not what I planned but it is the truest I could write on day 31 now pressed with time and on the verge of losing a 5-year streak. Phew! this was really close. May the writing Gods continuously favour me.
Finally my book hiatus has been lifted. It has been a struggle to find a book that soaks me in from the onset and keeps me turning the pages. This book my dear readers got me captivated for 3 days and only because I left room for my daily responsibilities. I remember waking up on Monday morning to work and I slot in 15 minutes for a nap which was substituted by book reading. I have enjoyed my commute these 3 days and I seem to be getting back hold of the routine that has steadied me for the past 3 years.
I might have jinxed myself at the beginning of the year when I boldly put out 40 books as my year’s reading challenge. Previously, I have not been committing to the number and the goal was just to read. Then, I easily reached this target. I am yet to check my track but I am far from hitting 15 books. Normally at this time of the year, I would be on my 23rd. To summarize the perks of In Every Mirror She is Black;
The writing checks
Characters check
Delivery of the plot checks
The pace of the book checks
I am still yet to figure out the reasoning behind the choice of Title
The book is about 3 black girls; Muna is Somali, seeking asylum in Sweden, Brittany is African American first generation immigrants from Jamaica, Kemi is Nigerian but raised in America. Yes, their skin colour makes them stand out. They each face different struggles having found their way to Sweden through different circumstances but all as a result of Johnny Von Ludin and they all come to meet (six degrees of separation at work) which is always the beauty of life. I waited for this meet-up. I think each of them having different circumstances made it hard for the writer to conjure a seamless scene. I liked that the author did not meet my expectation or succumb to the guise of sisterhood just because the girls are black.
This book hit close to home for two reasons: Ever since my first visit to Sweden, I always thought I would go back for either studies or work. It was easy for me to figure my way around, the food was generally of acceptable quality as there were many cuisines to pick from and the provision of drinking water at restaurants was a given. Like Kemi, I did quickly slip into a routine of getting my morning coffee and pastry from one local cafe at the same time each morning. I also noticed that in social places i.e clubs, the men would generally hold your gaze and or stare suggestively without necessarily making a move. It was hard to socialize within the Swedish circles which I now understand is because they generally refrain from indulging in personal conversations. Also, the concept of fika and the lagom lifestyle were ideals that I would want to be part of my life. Brittany’s description of the greys in Johnny’s lavish apartment made me crave colour and personality as opposed to just simplicity which is mostly reflected in neutrals.
We may never put the final nail on the question what do women bring to the table but from Brittany and Johnny’s relationship, it is clear that all their eggs are in one basket and that basket is on top of the table. I am really holding back on having this discussion here as I will reveal some spoilers. I am looking forward to the book club meeting and having this issue discussed.
Kemi seems to have grasped the concept of all that glitter is not gold. In her professional capacity, she is expected to date a certain calibre of men but time and again she is mingling with the exact opposite. During the catch-up call when she informs her twin sister she has met someone, the sister conveys her hope that Kemi did not leave the American electricians to settle for Swede electricians in reference to the profession of her ex-boyfriend who clearly did not have the family’s approval. Kemi translates this as God’s time is right but God’s electricians are apparently not right for her.
Brittany who is dating someone from the upper class is viewed as a gold digger, Kemi is looked down upon for dating men lower than her pay grade. In Kenya when a woman gets her man to listen to her, be a present father and dote over her as should be the case you will hear that the man is bewitched and that he has lost himself. Kemi was left wondering if Sweden was giving her Tobias in exchange for her career.
This book hit close to home because it has been a month since one of my best friends left to work abroad. While reading I am wondering whether she has a softer landing. I would like to have the opportunity like Tanesha to visit often and be part of her milestones. I have had another set of friends go for studies abroad and from them I learnt that it gets lonely and having friends and family checking in is a reprieve. My heart goes out to my other friend who went much earlier during COVID and I hope the feeling of isolation is not drowning.
I believe we should have more books that portray a golden lifestyle, where love triumphs and the male character is rich, kind, affectionate, and free from any hidden intentions. It seems like we are constantly reminded to be cautious of men, and the world could do with one less reason to fear them. I did love the depth of this book. I am perturbed by what a train delay is euphemism for. I cannot wait to walk the streets of Sweden with this book in mind. The suspenseful conclusion was perfect. I am left with Kemi’s relationship and career and Brittany and Maya on my mind.
I love firsts. I am happy to have been introduced to Lolá through her first adult novel. She gave the book a more personal touch with the conversation at the tail end and for that, she will be etched in my mind. Every time I read an author’s first, I re-birth my dream of writing someday and I hope I will be as good an author. Your voice is more powerful than you think… Never, ever let the world convince you that your struggles are invalid. Never stop fighting to be nobody but yourself; she advices.
My book club is back. It had been a long hiatus and as usual, they point me to books that would have taken me a while to pick up myself. In February when it made its return, we rekindled the flame with Home is not a Country by Safia Elhillo. It was a short easy read that took me a long while. I tend to think it is the writing style, poetry. Maybe it was the mention of the twin Aisha saw and how that made little sense to me until I was more than 100 pages in ( as is the custom with YA books). I thought it was light enough for us to have a discussion on the heavy topics addressed as well as have enough time to catch up after the separation.
A spell of good things was March’s read but I have just managed to finish. I read it slowly because it is Young Adult and I struggle with this genre. I liked that it was very much Nigerian. The phrases and songs referenced, the names, It reminded me of the Secret Lives of Baba Segi’s Wives especially the calling of characters as Iya … which loosely translates to mama… albeit with lots of accents on the names. Additionally, the characters are well brought out. I feel like I can pick out Yèyé in a crowded Market. I am sure I pronounced Wúràolá’s name wrong the entire book much as they tried to guide us in its pronunciation in one of the pages. The families were very relatable and their stories nuanced. The endearing name golden babe stuck with me and Kingsley’s character as the friend zone perfect guy.
The poverty in Eniolá’s family was heartbreaking. I can imagine how he and Bùsólá felt being dragged to beg in the streets. Poverty strips off dignity. Eniolá could not even play with other children because he had to hide from the landlord lest he remembered the rent they were late in paying. Their mum was hardworking through and through and her hardwork did not bear the fruits we were promised it does. I saw education in a different lense when Eniolá talks about how going to a private school gave him better chances to succeed in life despite him being a poor learner. I would feel his pain when they got caned for not paying school fees. I disliked being caned for the flimsy reasons such as failing an exam or noise making and the thought of being canned for something beyond your control is a bit much.
The book does pay homage to the saying bad company ruins good morals but the character was literally pushed to the limit. Politics seems to be same in African Countries with some leaders using every means to get votes in their favour. The ending was sad, I felt bad but also could not lay blame because from the cards the character was dealt, the result could not have been anticipated and through and through we saw the character’s good will. I would not have been able to live with myself afterwards and I would not want my family to have to live with me.
Ayòbámi Adèbáyò delivers like she did with Stay with me only that I did not see the spell of good things in this book. I really waited for tables to turn, I kept reading and hoping maybe, just maybe. She addresses depression in a way that it creeps into an African home. For a long time people have associated depression as a Western disease and Africans are spared because they are hardened moreso the male figures who carry the financial weight of the family and keep everything to themselves. It is humbling seeing your father unable to provide and still having respect for him. It is sad seeing him reduced to a shell of himself and the nudge to do something just to provoke a reaction which will show that somewhere in the shell of the man, is the father you grew to admire.
Ayòbámi shows us how fate changes and life is no longer the same. We see Kids like Sàámú who are forced to be adults at a very young age and fend for themselves. She addresses domestic violence in a way that reminded me of Colleen Hoover’s It ends with us. The man you love hits you, then hits you again and you love him because the hitting stems out from the love you know he has for you and he never gives you a reason to doubt the love he has for you. You believe you are doing the right thing covering up the bruises and not burdening your loved ones who know he is a gentleman. You want to relieve them from worrying about you and you hope he will change because that is what he says each time as he holds you and nurses your bruises.
I did not write the phrases that caught my eye from the book because I had not planned to review it then. I hope the snippet I have given is enough for you to decide to read the book.
I picked this book under protest. Why would I care if someone had seven Husbands especially since they were not concurrent. I hated the blurb, I hated the first 100 pages but I continued to read maybe to spread the hate or see whether I would have a change of heart. I hated that this book came highly recommended by not 1 or 2 but 3 of my friends. I hated that I spent an hour updating my reads for the past 3 years on Goodreads so that I could get a recommendation based on books I have read and liked and goodreads’ first suggestion was this.
For once I felt ashamed to publicly declare my current read and would much rather say I was not currently reading anything. I had already judged myself and the book too harshly and I passed over the judgment to everyone else even before they could do it. What’s to write about a woman’s 7 husbands… of course it cannot be your everyday woman, it had to be based on somebody extraordinary whose life we would want a sneak peek of. I really cared less about Evelyn’s Husbands but for some reason I kept going.
The book is an easy read. The author, editor or publisher thought fit to give it a twist. For me it was just meeh because I was just reading the words and that they tell a story was a bonus. It is the first book that I hated with every part of my being but still flipped through the pages. My hatred for Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secret of the Universe developed as I was reading the book but this one was pre-meditated. I decided I was not interested in the book, I did not like the story, and the blurb further confirmed this but I still read.
Evelyn Hugo was a go-getter. She knew she lacked what it takes to be an actress but she put in the work. I liked that the book brought out a concept I believe in that it just takes one person taking a chance on you and from there you have to capitalize on it. The author says no one throws caution to the wind unless the wind is blowing their way. The other concept that I believe in that the book brought out was that if you are looking for a reason to do something you will always find it. I believe we make up our minds and then find reasons to support our decision but disguise the process and make the reason seem to be what pushed us to make the decision. An example would be my dislike for the book because hate is such a strong word that was unfounded but after reading the blurb I decided even that supports my decision.
I know this book review is not what you were expecting and has veered off my style and even so, it is exactly what I will put up not because I hate the book or the author but to maintain my projection of thoughts and feelings like I always have. Given that you have read this far, my continuous use of the word hate has not put you off. I normally put down books I dislike or read them as a mockery as I am currently doing with Our Chemical Hearts by Krystal Sutherland. I do not remember any other book that evoked hatred from me but there has to be a reason why I kept flipping the pages. Do read the book and judge yourself.
I have just finished my third book of the year Educated by Tara Westover. I think the title is the best fit for the book and the cover even better. Educated is a memoir and bruh, Tara has literally been through it. I bring up the book to give context to my thought process. Tara’s parents did not believe in formal education. They both seem to have received formal education in their formative years. The first 3 children were allowed to go to school for a while until Tara’s dad decided it was no good for them and he had them drop out. Their mum home-schooled them for a while but their dad always found tasks to engage them in until they had no time to sit and learn.
Among the siblings, those who were interested in formal education had to teach themselves. Their mum gave them guidance here and there but mostly it was personal drive. She mostly ensured that they knew how to read and from there they would learn whatever they thought relevant. Tara learned how to read using the Mormon Bible. She went straight from a lack of formal education to studying for her entrance exam to the university and from there she worked her way to get her Doctorate. Two of her siblings also managed to achieve that.
In educated we see how other people’s limiting beliefs can be imparted to us. Sometimes we carry the mantle of defending those beliefs as if they are our very own maybe because we do not want to imagine that we have held onto something for so long that is untrue. Tara’s dad had strong beliefs about who a faithful servant was and he ensured his family not only knew the beliefs but also practiced them. They never sought medical attention for the serious injuries inflicted while working for their dad. they waited on the Lord to cure them because he had allowed the injury to happen in the first place and everything is his will.
To admit uncertainty is to admit to weakness, to powerlessness, and to believe in yourself despite both. It is a frailty but in this frailty, there is strength: the conviction to live in your own mind and not in someone else’s. I have often wondered if the most powerful words I wrote that night came not from anger or rage but from doubt; I don’t know. I just don’t know.Not knowing for certain, but refusing to give way to those who claim certainty was a privilege I had never allowed myself. My life was narrated for me by others. Their voices were forceful, emphatic, absolute. It had never occurred to me that my voice might be as strong as theirs.
This book is 4 stars for me and I definitely recommend nonetheless I link Lwile’s review of the book which I absolutely loved and understand her rating of the book at 1 and 1/2 stars https://lwiletheleo.com/2023/02/13/educated-by-tara-westover/. I hope you get to see that whether it is in praise or otherwise, we both talk about the book and on that basis hope that you too pick it up to see the nuances and the drive of our rating of the book.
We began the year in England around the 1850s when there was a cholera outbreak and several people died. Shortly in this period, Prince Albert succumbed to typhoid. Fallen Grace took us to low-income England where survival was a struggle and those who could not afford shelter went to workhouses. This is the first fiction book I have encountered with a very detailed bibliography mostly because of its historical bit. It assured me that my academic writing skills will still be of use in leisure writing. A friend of mine read this book in French and I would like to have that experience. Since I do not mind re-reading this book I might as well.
Next, we wandered off to Australia. The good sister was a psychological thriller that scattered my cognitive capacity. It was an absolute mind fuck and reminded me of Collen Hoover’s Verity. Mid-year Queenie took me back to the UK. I liked how different this book was. In total, I managed to read 30 books and If I keep up this writing style, the prose will be longer. What was different in my 2022 reading was that I only read the books I liked given that my book club took an indefinite break. Before the break, Our January read was memoirs of a porcupine which I struggled with. I did like the discussion we had about the book and the realization that there was much I had failed to appreciate when reading it.
There was a higher rate of re-reading in 2022 because much as I wanted to read, I wanted authors I am familiar with and books I knew would deliver. I read untamed by Glennon Doyle and let be a woman by Elisabeth Eliott twice. Untamed is my go-to for that push and I have accepted that I will keep going back to it. Morning Noon and Night and The Stars shine Down were my Sidney Sheldon’s re-read for the year. I also re-read The Mothers by Brit Bennet and still on the high of the good writing, I picked up the Vanishing Half by the same author.
I had several notable reads featured in my blog posts throughout the year. Recursion by Blake Crouch which never got mentioned was one of them. He is always my go-to author for good science fiction. I still think Dark Matter by him rates higher maybe because it is what introduced me to him. He is also the only author I follow on social media as I try to understand how he comes up with such stories that trip our reality. Reading his books also makes me appear smart because of the quantum physics picked in the pages. Let me plug in a series called good behavior based on his works. The script and the characters Letty and Javier are it for me.
Colleen Hoover also made a comeback in 2022 with Reminders of Him which I absolutely loved. I have been wary of reading It starts with us because I did not want it to ruin it ends with us. Then, I did not wish to know Atlas’ story but after reading the blurb now, I am certain I will pick it up to usher in February.
In between the year, there were books that were just there for me. I read the Sex Lives of African Women by Nana Darkoa because there was a play based on it and all the notable women in the theatre and arts industry had roles in it which made tickets go for 5000KES. My thoughts were that Girl Woman Other by Bernardine Evaristo was better at exploring that theme much as it was not centered on African women. Considering at the start it is quite a difficult read with the lack of punctuation and several characters being introduced, it is a gift that keeps on giving for the readers who stay put.
I read the golden couple by Greer Hendricks and Sarah Pekannen as part of my research on whether I should give therapy a try. The book is about a couple who go for therapy. I did see the perks from the book but mostly came out with the idea that 10 sessions are enough. Tell me lies by Carola Lovering was quite relatable. the story not so much but I often drop the title conveniently in situations I believe a significant or not-so-significant other is pulling my leg. The book cover was also among the best for the books I read in 2022. I got this recommended by the bad on paper podcast I listen to.
I wanted to write a review of this book when it was still fresh in my mind but I somehow talked myself out of it. This book will trigger you. well not the whole of it, parts of it. You have either been a Lucy or you know a Lucy. Someone summed it up on google reads as follows and I think this is the best depiction.
Tell me lies is about that one person who still haunts you – the other one. the wrong one. the one you couldn’t let go of. The one you will never forget.
There are three sets of parents; those who are so in love with each other that their children are inconsequential, those who are still together because of their children and lastly those who do their role as partners and parents. The most fun we ever had by Claire Lambard is centered on Marilyn and David, (the first set of parents) and their four daughters. Wendy’s acquired sense of humor, her relationship that is full of love and not so typical. Violet’s perfect family that is not so perfect. Liza finding herself pregnant with a baby she is not sure she wants by a man she is not sure she loves. Grace who has that best friend who can be a boyfriend. Each of the relationships in this book is very close to reality. This was also the longest read of the year with 621 pages.
The following books had covers that I think were in line with the plot: Fallen Grace, Reckless Girls, Born a Crime, Memoirs of a Porcupine, Cilka’s Journey, A man called Ove, Queenie and Tell me Lies. I liked the cover of the Most Fun We Ever Had and Such a Fun Age.
Books in 2022 were what I needed them to be at the time of reading. I hope to discover more books in 2023, revisit some authors from the past and read more of their work. My book-related goal in 2023 is to be more active on Goodreads.
It is hard for me to tell what my readers like. I have life update posts, book reviews, edutainment-like posts and pretty much anything I feel inspired to write. Is it that you like what I like or you like what I write because they are both the same thing. I thought this post would not be for my typical readers then I wondered who my typical readers are. The demographics of those who have subscribed to be notified is completely different from that wordpress notifys me engage with my post. I will just keep writing what I like.
Yesterday I was with company and I was asked to make porridge. Apparently, the person had missed porridge and had no idea how to make. I like cooking and there are many things I learn by checking online recipes. I could think of several solutions my company had; had he tried following instructions on the porridge flour because it is always right there, maybe even goggle but he saw it fit to ask me to make it for him.
As I was stirring the paste I kept thinking that maybe he had tried making porridge but he lacked the patience required. Porridge tends to form balls of flour when left unattended. I hate drinking porridge that has those balls because I am forced to keep spitting them out or swallow depending on my relationship with the person who cooked. I stood over the pot diligently stirring while also giving it time to cook undisturbed. I could not help but feel sorry for girls my age who had no idea what is coming their way upon marriage. I do not have expertise on the subject but having lived with a man, I think I have a rough Idea which is better than theoretical knowledge.
I have not been privileged to attend weddings this far in the year. There is a wedding I attended sometime back and I enjoyed the sermon. The pastor intimated that man and woman are different. They were created differently and the two reason differently. Every single day I see these differences and what would be so obvious to me is not as obvious to my male company and vice versa. What cracked me up was the pastor’s statement to the newlyweds that when either of them gets frustrated because of these differences, they should try accommodate the other otherwise they should have married someone from their gender who will see things as they do.
Glennon Doyle thought that was not such a bad idea. She advocates for writing the truest, most beautiful story about your life you can imagine and then conjure up the courage to make real the imagined. In her imagining her truest life, she ended up in a partnership with a woman. Here is her monologue from her book untamed:
What I want to say is: What if I wasn’t born this way at all? What if I married Abby not just because I’m gay but because I’m smart? What if I did choose my sexuality and my marriage and they are simply the truest, wisest, most beautiful, most faithful, most divine decisions I’ve ever made in my entire life? What if I have come to see same-gender love as a really solid choice- just a brilliant idea?
At this point I feel like I have to tread carefully with what I write next. Just to bring clarity to my new readers and those who have been following the blog, I share lots of things that I come across even when I am still processing. I advocate for learning, un-learning and relearning. Maya Angelou says that we do our best until we know better then we do better.
I am inclined to think that those who opt to move in with their partners want to see these differences and decide whether they are willing to put up with the differences. There is a line of thought against doing that and I chose to reiterate Glennon Doyle when she advocates going with what is truest for you.
I must have talked about this book in a previous post Can we skip to the good part but having revisited the ideologies raised, I would advocate for you to read the book and form opinions of your own. I am excited as I wait for the hard copy that I am shipping as I believe I would want this book in my collection having read an e-copy.
I do not know what will prepare girls my age for the part of their lives they will share with their significant others. I cringe when I think of all the things I have had to learn, unlearn and re-learn and I do not know where to start sharing. I think their only hope will be to do their best until they know better and even while doing their best, I will completely advocate for not losing yourself in the process, here is another excerpt from Glennon’s book that I hope convinces you to get a copy for yourself.
…women who are best at this disappearing act earn the highest praise: she is so selfless.
Can you imagine? The epitome of womanhood is to lose one’s self completely.
I love myself now. Self-love means that I have a relationship with myself built on trust and loyalty. I trust myself to have my own back so my allegiance is to the voice within. I’ll abandon everyone else’s expectations of me before I’ll abandon myself. I’ll disappoint everyone else before I disappoint myself. I’ll forsake all others before I’ll forsake myself. Me and Myself we are till death do us part.
As I am at it, I will leave a screenshot of a post I came across that is in line with what Glennon says and may be what girls my age need to hear in addition to the above.
Choose yourself as you listen to the voice within.
Queenie, the title of the book, and the main character’s name. It was my turn to choose a book of the month in my book club and I was blank. Of course I had books on my to-be-read list but I could not settle on a safe book that would be interesting enough to discuss. I got some help in choosing this book and the guy who encouraged me to pick it would be reading it for the third time. I do not have a book that I have re-read more than once. I think I should re-read two of Paulo Coelho’s books because I may have a better understanding of them now.
I have to give credit for the book cover. I think we under-estimate the great lengths the people tasked with coming up with book covers go to. It took Colleen Hoover’s books for me to realize that the same book can have different covers in different geographical locations. They really want us to judge the books by the cover I would think. Maybe they realized we do it anyway. I do not think a book’s cover has been the reason I pick up a book or leave one. Book covers have to some extent enhanced my experience while reading the book. I should analyze books by their covers before the year ends.
I prefer books that have the chapters in a flow more than those with one person narrating then the other character narrating. I am also liking the use of text messages in books because that is really how friends communicate, that and screenshots. I am looking forward to a book that will have characters communicating through memes. If the main character is female and has a friend group with different personalities and we get to see how she relates to each of the friends, more points for the book. We should also have male characters’ friendships explored.
I have been holding off having a stand-alone post for this book so my memory is not as fresh. I write this having read 4 other books since I finished Queenie and it has been so much in my head that I had to give in. I like authors who give a time, place, and persona to their characters. Queenie is a black female dating a white guy Tom and there is a lot to unpack on biracial couples and white privilege. This reminds me of such a fun age by Kiley Reid which had a white character who dated black girls so that he is not identified as racist but he very much was. Racism is not much of what my Kenyan audience encounters but I still recommend Queenie because it unpacks more than that.
Queenie has 3 friends. We learn how she became close to each of them and see how friends from high school, friends from college and work colleagues come together albeit each knowing you at different stages of life. Queenie has some phase in her life when she is figuring things out and her friends are patient through it. I like that we get to see the friends hang out after work, go to a BLM protest, a concert, it made the characters more real.
Queenie’s therapy helped me as a reader. I loved how much she grows from the beginning to the end of the book. The book is so realistic that the author acknowledges that there are journies in life we take solo. A friend might hold your hand, a family says prayers for you but you take the journey by yourself. It reminds me of untamed by Glennon Doyle; another book I would recommend to my female audience.
I would have done this book more justice had I written a draft the moment I finished the book but this is also good because I do not divulge all the juice. The four books I read and Queenie were all centered on female characters navigating their lives. Tell me lies by Carola Lovering is another that I would want to write about because the story is not one of those tired romances.
I am currently relating to the lives of all those different characters and picking nuggets from each of the books.
1. One Republic -I Lived (most relatable line: with every broken bone I swear I lived ) 2. Philip Philips- gone gone gone (most relatable line: I’ll love you long after you’re gone) 3. Avicii- without you (most relatable line: I gotta learn how to love without you, I gotta carry my cross without you, stuck in the middle and I’m just about to, figure it out without you) 4. Bruno Mars-When I was your man (most relatable line: the whole of it)
I have never been so wrong about a book as I was with this one. Sometime in 2020, I shared the books I had read and a friend suggested that I have this as my next read. I read the blurb and wondered what the possibility was that several people would shelve this book on first attempt. I kept toying with the idea of reading the book because much as photos are a representation of what the person behind the camera sees, book recommendations sort of function the same way.
Last month when we were deliberating which book to read in May, a fellow member of the book club suggested this book. I thought It is about time I gave it another shot because there is really no better time than the present. This is how I got myself to read it two days before our book club meeting.
I could not nearly bring myself to like the name Ove. It sounds so incomplete probably a middle name or a nickname; it begs to be complemented by another name. Then who has sentences for chapters? This alone should have signaled that I was in for extraordinary.
Books these days have one of three styles; the writer has a then chapter followed by a chapter narrating events as they unfold or we get the perspective of one main character in one chapter followed by the other relevant character in the next chapter and lastly the book just flows as it is either the present, past or a letter another character in the book is reading.
A man called Ove has focus and direction a storytelling skill I was recently told I possess. The author wants to tell a story but for the main story to achieve its purpose, the reader needs to be acquainted with the feeder stories but not in detail, just enough flesh for them to shed light on the main story and also ensure the reader does not lose sight of the end goal.
A time like that comes for every man when he chooses what sort of man he wants to be. And if you don’t know the story, you don’t know the man.
Ove is a grumpy old angry man. My English teacher would be disappointed that I have not employed the correct order of adjectives. From his perspective, rules are rules and rules should be followed. He is a stickler and a man who minds his business. I am not one for cast in stone routines but I do like order. As the book unfolds we get to really know the man Ove. He is such a funny character and now that I think about it his lifestyle reminded me of lagom and why I would want to live in Sweden for a period in my life.
I like my space and in the beginning, I could not understand what is glorified about other characters always coming into Ove’s way and stopping him mid-track. Why wasn’t the universe conspiring to get him his heart’s desire? Was it too much to ask? In the end I realized that the universe did grant him his desire. This book is not about Sonja but I have come to love her. I think this book is the truest depiction of life and everyone should read it at some point in their lives.
Loving someone is like moving into a house. At first, you fall in love with all the new things, amazed every morning that all this belongs to you, as if fearing that someone would suddenly come rushing in through the door to explain that a terrible mistake had been made, you weren’t actually supposed to live in a wonderful place like this. Then over the years, the walls become weathered, the wood splinters here and there and you start to love that house not so much because of all its perfection but rather for its imperfections.
There is something about a handyman. One who uses his hands to fix and has his set of tools. The same way mothers insist that a girl who cannot cook will be returned by her husband should have been the same emphasis put on boys to learn how to remove an airlock, fix a sink backflow, replace a shower head, change bulbs, yes I said it bulbs you will be surprised.
My intention was not to give much away about the book but just to let you know that you have a book that can be added to your to be read.
Dimples Migraines and Aahs 