Winter Book Reviews

Ok ok, so technically we still have four more weeks of winter, technically I’m early with a “Winter Book Recap.” But! Since I’m currently reading my own book, and March is right around the corner, I figure now is the appropriate time to take a look back at the books that helped me slog through winter.

1. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick

Androids This may sound odd, but I read this book not based on its own merit, but because of the other works it’s influenced. Blade Runner is the obvious correlation here, but Janelle Monáe has said in interviews that it’s a big influence on her work, too. I was curious about a book that could inspire so many, across so many genres.

And you know what? This was a really, really good book. Simple and straightforward prose, but a complex idea: what does it mean to be human? This is where science fiction really shines: creating an other-worldly scenario to tackle all-too-human questions. I’m laughing right now reading the quote on that cover — “a kind of pulp-fiction Kafka” — because it’s totally true. This is pulp fiction in the best sense — a fun, action-packed read that still makes you think.

Did it have its issues? Sure. The pacing seemed a little off in parts, and the female characters aren’t the most well-developed. But all in all I’m definitely glad I read it, and definitely understand why it’s considered a classic in the genre.

2. Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut

Slaughterhouse Five

I have a confession to make: up until this book, I had never read any Kurt Vonnegut. I’m not entirely sure how that’s possible, considering that I practically lived in my college’s English department. And confession time isn’t over yet: I’ve been somewhat avoiding Vonnegut. He seemed like another White Dude Writer whom you’re Supposed to Read. But then Slaughterhouse-Five was on sale for less than a latte, so I scooped it up. And now I’m kicking myself for not reading Vonnegut sooner, because my first thought upon finishing this book was, “I wish I were back in college so I could discuss this with fellow English nerds.”

This book, man. It was so good. SO GOOD. I don’t know what I expected from Vonnegut, but it wasn’t this — simplistic prose, a sci-fi angle, a keen eye for just-right details. (How did I not know Vonnegut is considered a science fiction writer? WHERE HAVE I BEEN?). But most of all, I love that this book doesn’t leave any answers. It is both fatalistic and hopeful, dismally sad and darkly comedic. And Billy Pilgrim — was he really abducted by aliens? Did the skull fracture break his brain? Is he suffering from horrible PTSD and these are his coping mechanisms? The answer to all these questions is “yes” — they can all be true, all at the same time, just as they can all not be true. As a writer, I’m definitely going to need to re-read this book to study how Vonnegut does it.

3. The Explorer by James Smythe

The Explorer

Nope, sorry. This book was a “not for me.” I heard about it on Chuck Wendig’s blog, and it sounded right up my alley:

Cormac Easton is the first journalist to travel to space. The crew he’s with all die, and he’s left alone, slowly dying. Unless, of course, he can find out how to stop it…

Awesome! Sign me up! But somehow this book… bored me. I’m not even sure how that’s possible. But to me, it was slow and boring. I followed Nancy Pearl’s advice on this one and put it down after about 100 pages. It has a LOT of good reviews, though, so clearly others enjoyed it. Maybe you would, too? Let me know, I’d be curious to hear others’ thoughts.

4. Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within by Natalie Goldberg

Writing

I already talked about my adoration for this book — but it does bear repeating. This is an AMAZING book for all you writers out there. The chapters are short, easily digested in any time increment you may have. Goldberg is at once encouraging in a maternal sort of way, and matter-of-fact in a no-bullshit way. It’s a mix that shouldn’t work, but totally does.

One part that struck me in particular — in the last chapter, she talks about how it feels to finish a book. The combined exhilaration and letdown. The joy and the loneliness. I had just finished my first draft, and the words struck home. This woman gets it, guys. Whatever “it” is. Seriously, if you write at all, check this book out.

5. The Cormorant by Chuck Wendig

Cormorant

This book! And it’s ah-maz-ing cover. I had been looking forward to this book ever since I finished book two of the Miriam Black series. This one involves a road trip down to the Florida Keys. Which, I have to say — Wendig does a great job describing. You can practically taste the Keys. Now I want to go and snorkel and drink rum and eat fresh fish caught by a cormorant.

Without getting spoilery, I’ll just say — there were a lot of returning characters that I didn’t expect to show up, and I was pleased they did. One qualm, however — there were times when Wendig referenced characters or events from the previous book, and I couldn’t for the life of me remember exactly who they were or what they had done. It didn’t hinder my enjoyment of the overall book in any way, but a little more “catching the reader up” would have been nice.

I was surprised at the gut reaction I had to reading the last page — it was a (surprisingly) emotional ending with a character you’ve really come to care for. Miriam shows a LOT of personal growth in this book — more so than we’ve previously seen. She confronts difficult relationships and doesn’t find easy answers. All in all, it felt like a good direction for the character to go in. Also, the set up for the next book? SUPER intriguing. I’m in.

6. The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie

Alexie

The members of my writing group were shocked — shocked! — when they learned I hadn’t read any Sherman Alexie. So seeing as he’s speaking at the upcoming AWP conference  (which I’m attending wheeee!), I figured now was a good time. The Absolutely True Diary is technically a young adults book, but I’m here to tell you that it is totally enjoyable as an adult. It’s a quick read, but it never feels like you’re being talked down to (as some poorly written YA books can do). The narrator, Junior, is a Native American kid who leaves his reservation to attend the adjacent “white” school. In many ways, this book seems to be a love song to the reservation that Junior knows he MUST leave for his own good — yet it still breaks his heart to do so.

It amused and saddened me to think that there are a lot of schools that ban this book. This is, on the whole, a pretty innocent book — it tackles some BIG complex issues, yes, but Junior is a good kid. He does well in school, he works hard, he loves his friends and family. He is actively trying to create a better life for himself. Those seem like good messages for young adults. But the fact that he *gasps* mentions masturbation makes the book unfit for young eyes. Come on, America. Let’s pull it together here, ok?

Winter always seems like such a cozy time for reading. What books did YOU pick up? Anything I should add to my own list?

Favorites: A 2013 Recap

Every time I look at my favorites list from 2003, it makes me smile. It’s like a time capsule, a little slice of who I was at a certain time, in a certain place. I want more of those time capsules — so I’m picking the tradition back up. Plus, ya know, ’tis the season.

I’m using the same categories we chose in 2003 — I am a fan of consistency, after all. So here they are, then. A 2013 recap, ten years (!!!) after the first.

Favorite Movies

No doubt about it — Gravity gets top prize. Hands down, my favorite movie of the year. Because holy shitballs this movie was amazing. From the “how did they do that?” visuals to the powerful, INTENSE story. I have some friends who’ve criticized the movie for not being realistic enough. “Well, that was just too coincidental, that XY and Z happened.” But to me, this movie was a parable — a classic hero’s journey, told through a modern lens. And as that, it’s just about perfect.

Runner up? The World’s End. British comedians, creepy robots, epic bar-hopping — what more do you need? This movie cleverly incorporates themes such as addiction, sobriety, and the pains of growing up, all under the guise of an alien caper. It was by far my favorite of the Cornetto Trilogy.

Favorite Books

Considering that I devoured the entire MaddAddam trilogy in about two months — um, yeah, those take the cake. But top of the list would be Oryx and Crake. As I said in my review, I loved Snowman as a narrator, and I love the slow reveal of the entire book, the gradual build-up and creeping horror. Plus, for our anniversary Byron got me this:

Signed first edition of Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood.

Signed first edition. Boom. So, duh. Favorite.

Other memorable reads? The Ocean at the End of the Lane. Civilwarland in Bad Decline (depressing as hell, but it sticks with you). And in the “I can’t remember if I read this in 2013 or the end of 2012, but I’m counting it anyway” category — Blackbirds by Chuck Wendig.

Favorite Music

Musically, one lady dominated my year: Janelle Monáe . “Q.U.E.E.N.” was my jam pretty much all year long. Plus, she put on an ah-maz-ing show, complete with crazy crowd-surfing.

Janelle Monae in concert.

If you haven’t checked out her entire album, The Electric Lady, do it now. Full-on fantastic from start to finish.

Favorite Moments

Paddle boarding in Hawaii. Neil Gaiman’s reading. Beating a 10-minute mile while running. Weirdly, all the yard work we did this summer (someday the novelty will wear off, but it hasn’t yet).

Oh, and DUH! Attending Margaret Atwood’s reading — and getting up the courage to ask her a question.

Atwoodreading

Big nerdy moment, ladies and gents. Big nerdy moment.

Favorite Food

I love that this was a category we decided to include in 2003. Priorities? We got ’em.

I’ve recently rediscovered English muffins. They’re pretty damn tasty. Have you had one recently? Highly recommended.

This summer I became obsessed with the Lil’ Bean Burger from Zippy’s Giant Burgers. It is cheesy and saucy and oh why yes I had one for dinner last night.

Soft pretzels. Always soft pretzels.

These pork tacos. WITH the pickled onions. If you have a slow cooker, make this now. NOW. WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?

And… I guess that about wraps up my year. We’re ending on tacos, folks. It seems appropriate.

(What WILL be a favorite of the year — finishing the first draft of my book. Which is progressing. 11,000 words written in the past month. It is so close I can taste it. 15 more days. 15 more days.)

Fall Book Recap

Here it is, your seasonal recap — the books I read this past fall. I wish I was more excited about this list, you guys. But for the most part, my fall reading list consisted of books I was REALLY excited about… but made me feel like this:

The exception to that is, of course, MaddAddam, which I reviewed early early this fall. But the rest… well, you’ll see. NONE of them are bad books. But none of them really did it for me.

1. Fireside Magazine

Cover of Fireside Magazine

Well see, here we are, starting out with another exception. I read Issues 4 and 5 of Fireside Magazine, and both were actually really enjoyable. Each issue consists of a couple pieces of flash fiction, a few short stories, and then a section of a serial novella from Chuck Wendig. Not gonna lie — I originally signed up for Fireside because of that Wendig series, but there have been some other really good pieces in there, too. I’ve never really been one for flash fiction, but there are some in there which show me that genre’s potential (“The Filigreed Cage” by Krystal Claxton stands out). Each issue only takes about 20 minutes to read, so I’d definitely recommend it for fellow bus commuters.

2. Wool

Cover of Wool by Hugh Howey

I’d heard SO MUCH GOOD about Hugh Howey’s Wool. Plus, he’s a self-publishing success story! So, you know, that’s cool. But Wool failed to grab me. It’s a post-apocalyptic romp, which I’m normally down for… but for whatever reason, the premise of this one (humans living in an underground silo, unable to go outside) didn’t do it for me. Or maybe it was the characters? I realized after I finished that I didn’t really care about any of them. Which made it hard for me to want to read more.

Now, admittedly, I only read Wool Part #1, which was Howey’s original short story before he continued the series and compiled it into one book. But if Part 1 didn’t grab me… why should I go onto Part 2? Am I missing out? Anyone read the rest of these? I’d be curious to hear opinions.

3. In the Garden of Beasts

Cover of In the Garden of Beasts by Erik Larson.

Ugh, this one… this one had been on my reading list for a long time. I was pretty damn excited to read it. I loved Larson’s The Devil in the White City, and In the Garden of Beasts sounded like a total winner. It follows the story of William E. Dodd — the American ambassador to pre-war Nazi Germany — and his family as they navigate the political waters of 1933 Berlin. Sounds fascinating, right? RIGHT?

Well. This book was boring. The Dodds are duds. The narrative perspective switches between Dodd and his adult daughter, Martha. I didn’t find either one particular likable or interesting, and questioned why Larson chose them as the pivot for his book. Plus, Larson had this annoying habit of Foreshadowing. With a capital F. All throughout the book, he hinted at some MAJOR event to come. At the characters who would die horrific deaths, at the horrible turning point that would be a defining moment of Germany history. He hints at the climax SO MUCH that by the time you get there, you think… that’s it? THAT’s what you were going on and on about? And I mean, the climax of the book IS a Big Deal historical event… so the fact that it’s a letdown? That tells you something about this book.

4. A Fraction of the Whole

FractionoftheWhole

This is the one I almost abandoned. It came HIGHLY recommended from a friend, a friend who’s reading taste I very much trust… but again, it didn’t do it for me (are you catching a theme with these books?). A Fraction of the Whole is written by Steve Toltz (and I just realized…how can I not think of this?), and it follows the story of a father and son in Australia. Both of them are certifiably nuts — and for me, not in a good way. They’re over-the-top introspective, they ramble, they fancy themselves philosophers. The book’s plot itself was somewhat intriguing — but I just couldn’t get behind these characters. I found them eccentric at best, infuriating at worst.

After I finished the book, I looked at some Goodreads reviews, and a lot of people mentioned how funny the book was. Like, “laugh out loud” funny. Which… I didn’t get. At all. So I’m wondering what I’m missing? Is it just ME? Again, if you’ve read this one, I’d be curious to hear…

5. The Paris Wife

Cover of The Paris Wife.

The Paris Wife was a confounding read. For the first half of the book, I couldn’t figure out if I liked it or not — and yet I kept turning pages. I didn’t dislike it. But there was something I couldn’t put my finger on, something that rubbed me the wrong way. And then it clicked: I didn’t really like the narrator, Hadley Richardson Hemingway. I found her annoying. Passive. She watched the action around her, rather than being the protagonist of her own novel. Which I’m not sure is a valid criticism of the book — after all, it’s possible that Hadley was submissive and passive in real life. But every time she said, “I felt it was my duty to support Hem, no matter what” or “As a mother, I finally felt fulfilled,” I wanted to smack her.

It was also an odd read because my sympathies alternated between the two main characters, Hadley and Ernest. Now, obviously, Ernest Hemingway did a lot of shitty things to this woman, numero uno definitely being cheating on her and then marrying his mistress. But there were times early in their marriage when I found myself sympathizing with him rather than her. When he needs to go off and write, she pouts. When he needs to travel to Istanbul to report on the conflict there, she throws a temper tantrum. As a writer, this behavior would drive me up a wallBut perhaps if you’re not a creative type, it’s easier to understand where Hadley was coming from.

6. What I Talk About When I Talk About Running

Cover of What I Talk About When I Talk About Running.

Ok, this one! This one I was SO EXCITED TO READ. It’s about running! It’s about writing! It’s about the intersection between running and writing! All things I find super interesting. But after I’d read the first 50 pages or so… meh, I dunno. I felt like it could have been shorter. Edited down a bit. And here’s the thing — it’s not a long book! Only 180 pages. But it just felt to me that Murakami was somewhat stretching the material. He’s obviously an excellent writer, and I’d be interested to read more of his books, but this one didn’t reach me quite the way I expected it to.

Still, there were some really good nuggets in there. Such as this:

No matter how mundane some action might appear, keep at it long enough and it becomes a contemplative, even meditative act.

And this:

Exerting yourself to the fullest within your individual limits: that’s the essence of running, and a metaphor for life–and for me, for writing as well.

What did you read this fall? What are you reading now? I’m currently on Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? — and man, am I excited to talk about that one in the next recap…

Book Review: MaddAddam

Well, I did it. I basically binge-read Margaret Atwood’s trilogy. Starting with Oryx and Crake, continuing on to The Year of the Flood, and ending with MaddAddam.

MaddAddam by Margaret Atwood

(Side note: how do I get that amazing cover?? Is it the Canadian version? The U.S. one is definitely inferior.)

I read the first two books in the trilogy earlier this summer, so all the back story was pretty fresh in my mind. Which greatly enhanced the reading of this book. Atwood seems fairly conscientious about getting readers caught up to speed, so I think technically you could read this book on its own — but why would you want to? It’s so much richer when you have the whole background, the entire mythology.

“Mythology” seems to be a central theme of this book — specifically, the stories we tell ourselves, both for ourselves and about ourselves, and how those stories shape us. The book is told through three distinct narrators: Toby (she was one of our narrators in The Year of the Flood), Zeb (a character from the past book), and Blackbeard (a young ‘Craker’, a new species of super-humans created by Crake). Each voice adds its own nuance to the story, its own meaning. At first, I was somewhat puzzled by Atwood’s choice of narrator in certain sections. But then I realized what a different story it would be if someone else told it.

Two quotes stood out to me while reading the book. One near the beginning:

“There’s the story, then there’s the real story, then there’s the story of how the story came to be told. Then there’s what you leave out of the story. Which is part of the story too.”

And near the end:

“‘There,’ says Blackbeard. ‘Telling the story is hard, and writing the story must be more hard. Oh Toby, when you are too tired to do it, next time I will write the story. I will be your helper.'”

Throughout the book, there are musings on writing, on stories, what stories mean, what’s the point of stories in a dystopian society where mankind struggles for survival. At the end, Atwood’s answer is very clear: stories do matter. Stories are important. They are a flicker of hope in what can be an otherwise dark and scary world.

I was sad reading the last chapter of MaddAddam. I was sad to leave this world, where I’d spent so much of the summer. But that’s always how a good book is, isn’t it? You want to know what happens, but you never really want it to end. And fortunately, I get to extend this out just a teeny bit — Margaret Atwood is coming to Seattle the end of October, and I’m going to her reading. So perhaps MaddAddam isn’t quite over yet.

Summer Reading List

Ok first off — I KNOW. I know summer is not over yet and it seems like an odd time for a wrap-up list. But the past week in the mornings and evenings there’s been that certain twang in the air, and I feel like the next book I read will land on the Fall Reading List. So then, here it is — the books I read this summer.

1. The Blue Blazes

The Blue Blazes by Check Wendig

The Blue Blazes is pulp fiction in the best sense of the term. Fast-paced, fairly violent, with a cast of rough-and-tumble characters with names like Mookie Pearl and Skelly. Chuck Wendig excels at creating slightly fantastical alternate realities, and this book is no exception — it takes place in a (literally) hellish underground beneath New York City. I do think I preferred Wendig’s Miriam Black series to this one (probably because I love that character), but this was still a fun romp.

2. American Gods

American Gods by Neil Gaiman

This was a re-read. I hadn’t read it in a loooong time and wanted to freshen up before the Neil Gaiman reading. I’d remembered the clever storyline — downtrodden gods, an epic road trip, dark twists — but I’d forgotten something important: Neil Gaiman is a great writer. His style seems very simple and straightforward, and yet it still manages to be entirely beautiful and evocative. This time around I studied the writing a lot more closely, trying to analyze how he does what he does.

My only qualm — I somehow ended up with the tenth anniversary edition, which contains the “original” text, before Gaiman’s editor got to it. It was still a great read, but I’m a strong believer that a good editor only improves a story.

3. The Ocean at the End of the Lane

The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman

Of course after the Neil Gaiman talk I immediately devoured his new book. It’s a quick read (Gaiman started it with the intention of writing a short story). When people ask me how I liked it, the only word I can come up with is, “Lovely.” Our narrator is a young boy, and this book just so perfectly encapsulates what it’s like to be a kid — both the everyday wonder of it, and the everyday pain of it. That combination actually makes it a bittersweet, almost melancholy read — but still, it leaves you happy. And the ending… mmm, it’s a really beautiful ending that made me think about the nature of memory.

4. Boneshaker

Boneshaker by Cherie Priest

I had been really excited about this one. I’d heard great things from a lot of people. So imagine my disappointment when I just couldn’t really get into it. And the frustrating thing is, I can’t pinpoint why. It has a lot of elements I enjoy — alternate histories! Seattle! a cool female lead! — but somehow it just didn’t add up for me. I’ll probably give Cherie Priest another try, because the writing itself was good. But yeah. Sorry, Boneshaker. You and I weren’t meant to be.

5 and 6. Oryx and Crake and The Year of the Flood

These two are so entwined, it seems futile to review them separately. In short — OMG I LOVED LOVED LOVED these books. They’re the first two in a trilogy (MaddAddam, the final installment, comes out September 3), set in a dystopian future where humans struggle for survival. First up: Oryx and Crake.

Snowman is our narrator, a despairing man once called Jimmy before mankind suffered a horrible, catastrophic disaster. The nature of the disaster is not fully revealed until the end of the book, and the hints along the way lend such a sense of foreboding — it looms over everything. The hints and descriptions also make the book somewhat terrifying — it has so many parallels to our current political and environmental realities (in fact, Atwood herself always insists on calling it “speculative fiction”, not science fiction).

So of course after finishing Oryx and Crake, I had to pick up the next. The Year of the Flood is set in the same dystopian future, with roughly the same timeline, but we have different narrators: Toby and Ren, who live in a hippy-like commune called God’s Gardeners. Switching the narration gives the reader a “big picture” view of the disaster in Oryx and Crake. You could definitely read these books on their own — but man, you get so much from reading them together. Of the two, I’d have to say my favorite was Oryx and Crake — I loved the slow reveal, and also found Snowman to be a fascinating narrator. Plus, Oryx and Crake contained this, the most delicious of sentences:

It’s the fate of these words to be eaten by beetles.

Mmmm. Pure perfection. Can not WAIT to get my greedy little hands on MaddAddam.

7. CivilWarLand in Bad Decline

CivilWarLand in Bad Decline by George Saunders

So technically — I have not finished this one yet. I’m about a third of the way through. But I figure it’s summer, I’m reading it, it’ll go on the list. I’d been meaning to read George Saunders for quite a while, because all my fellow English-major nerds talk about what a fantastic writer he is. And it’s true — the stories I’ve read so far are amazingly well crafted. But oh man, are they depressing. Every single story has focused on a hapless protagonist whose life spirals downwards into despair. And I mean, there’s some hope. In some of the stories. But for the most part, man. I’m sure I’ll keep reading it, because the stories are so well-written. But it does remind me why, for the most part, I’ve forsaken the path of Serious Literature.

What about you? What books did you devour in the sun this year?

Book Review: The Blind Assassin

I finished The Blind Assassin on the bus yesterday. I was totally that freak who was praying that all the lights turned red, so I had enough time to get to the ending. I’m everyone’s favorite bus rider!

The Blind Assassin

I don’t think I enjoyed this one quite as much as The Handmaid’s Tale — but then again, it may be too soon to tell. It seems Atwood’s books kind of need to “sink in” with me. They’re complicated, and WHOA. The Blind Assassin was no exception. First you have a narrative that spans…what, 30 years? And then you put a novel within a novel within a novel…and just, whoa. This thing gets dense fast. But it also shows what an amazing writer Atwood is, because it totally works. I admit to being 100% confused throughout the first 50 pages or so, but if you stick with it, it’s worth the payoff.

Looking back at it, none of the characters are actually all that likeable. Let’s face it, Alex Thomas? Kind of an asshole. Yeah, he’s under a lot of pressure, yadda yadda yadda — asshole. Iris herself — you sympathize with it, but she’s not exactly warm and cuddly, is she? Laura is probably the most likeable person in the book, but even she… well, admit it, if you knew her in real life, she’d drive you crazy.

(Side note: I would totally read a Lizard Men of Xenor book.)

I can see why writers love this book. Aside from the dizzying plot structure, the eloquent writing — in a lot of ways it seems to be a book about words. Laura is a literal creature, she takes words at face value. In the end, words are her undoing. And Richard — one could say that words bring about his end, too. Iris only really gains power once she gets the book published. So of course we writers like it. It validates what we do.

One thing’s for sure: I need to get more Atwood into my life. Probably won’t be my next read — these books seem to be heavy, I think spacing them out is wise — but there will be more.

Unleash the Introverts!

I’m not sure when, but at some point in my life I became mildly obsessed with the Myers-Briggs personality test. I took an oh-so-official free online test (ISTJ, represent!) and then wanted to how everyone else fit into those 16 little types. It seemed to give organization to things, a reason for why people behaved in certain ways.

Mostly I was interested in introversion vs. extraversion. I remember first learning about introverts and thinking these are my people. So when a book came along that indulged my fascination, I had to pick it up. I’m not normally big on nonfiction — I want STORY, dammit! — but Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking was a good one. Although my friends and family probably weren’t thrilled that I was reading it, seeing as I made them all take the Myers-Briggs test.

quiet

This “definition” of introversion rang true ::

Introverts …. may have strong social skills and enjoy parties and business meetings, but after a while wish they were home in their pajamas …. They listen more than they talk, think before they speak, and often feel as if they express themselves better in writing than in conversation.

Yup, that’s me. All hail introverts!

The book talks a lot about creativity and innovation (particularly as it applies to the workplace). This probably doesn’t surprise many of you, but introverts — the social weirdos — are often deemed more creative than their extrovert counterparts. The reason?

But there’s a less obvious yet surprisingly powerful explanation for introverts’ creative advantage — an explanation that everyone can learn from: introverts prefer to work independently, and solitude can be a catalyst to innovation.

This does seem an argument for the closed-door policy — or maybe just having an actual physical door you can shut in the world’s face. Even if being out and about excites you, you need to hole up to actually get down to the business of being creative.

(Of course, I can think of examples where the “creative as introvert” theory doesn’t really hold true…Pablo Picasso was called a “vampire” by friends because he sucked the energy out of people.)

As I read the book and kept quoting sections to Byron, he grew dismayed. “I feel like this book may just be enforcing some of your tendencies,” he said. By which, of course, he  meant my tendency to avoid large crowds and crave time at home and what is this new thing you’re trying to make me do??

But the book doesn’t cast extroverts and introverts as the heroes and villains in The Battle for Universe Dominance. There needs to be a balancing act; extroverts and introverts can learn a lot from each other. Introverts don’t get a hall pass for checking out of society. Cain argues that when introverts are passionate about a project, they can push themselves in social situations and behave… well, like extroverts. And that doing so — getting out of the comfort zone — can even be good for them.

Oh, sorry — good for us. While it’s already exhausting me, I guess my Year of Yes is a good  thing after all.

Where do you see yourself on the scale of extraversion and introversion? Do you think it’s true that creative types tend to be introverts? And most importantly — does this book give me free rein to stay home all day in my sweatpants? (I think I sadly know the answer to that.)