At the beginning of this year I told myself I would read one book a week and that by the end of the year, all of the exhausted synapses of my phone-addled brain would be robust, I would have the memory of an elephant & I would be on Twitter no longer. It turns out that READING SUCKS, my memory gets worse by the day, and I still love over-sharing in 260-character increments to 30,000 people. Something I did do, however, because I am a virgo who will never get over how violent the passing of time feels, was keep track of everything that I was reading in a Substack I started called READING SUCKS. In this Substack, I talk about the books I read & everything that distracted me from reading them. Terrance Hayes once said that distractions are useful because they tell you something about yourself. As a writer, I feel like I am always on my way to writing or on my way to reading. Those are the big loves of my life but I am also interested in all of the things that pull me away from those loves. Below is my year in reading, month-by-month, where I acquired the books, and everything that distracted me from them.

January

“We share our dream from afar. Or one dream at least, embroidered in white thread on the bib of a checkered school smock: Estrella Gonzales.”
—Space Invaders, Nona Fernandez

The Topeka School By Ben Lerner (borrowed from my boyfriend)
Where the Wild Ladies Are by Aoko Matsuda (purchased in L.A. with Olivia after a funeral)
Space Invaders by Nona Fernandez (purchased at Books Are Magic the previous September with a gift card, for my birthday)

DISTRACTIONS:

-At 2 p.m. every day a woman starts playing her accordion in her car.-Caught up in the way some people say “ant” and some people say “awnt” (I am the latter).-Devastated by the leaves on my favorite plant that I named (because I will always love her) starting to turn yellow-Walk to Fort Greene in freezing weather to pick up books Puloma sent me for Christmas. The journey to the books keeps me sane. Somewhere, in a warm shop, there are items waiting for me that somebody thought would be perfect for me. Somebody was thinking of me and I must keep walking.-Scrolling on my phone thinking who is this? What is this? Who are you? How do I know you? What are you mad about? How is the same white man getting engaged to every girl I went to high school with?– Have to water Hannah’s plants every Monday. Shuffle back and forth to the sink with a mason jar, giving all the plants, exhausted from the heater, a drink. I wonder when she is coming back.