Happy October, friends!
September kept me busy with quite a bit of outside work during the day, to which I added my fall cleaning list--a list has that grown into a true project of its own.
Living in a four-season climate shifted a lot of habits for me. For instance, as much as I love the fresh start of a spring clean, it’s fall cleaning that really makes the difference now. With so much time spent indoors once the cold sets in, having a tidy, cozy space for winter feels essential. A dusty house with little jobs nagging at me in every corner doesn’t feel like a good place to curl up in a blanket to read. My mind won't allow me to ignore all of that and rest. Consequently, as I settled in to living a more seasonal life, my fall cleaning list expanded.
This year—our fifth in Idaho—I went further than ever with fall cleaning. I bought a few new tools, did some deep organizing, and decluttered nearly every space. I also continued a wardrobe habit I started last year that’s been both practical and surprisingly delightful.
I’m half-tempted to do a separate post about fall cleaning and organizing! But for now, how about I tell you what I read this month? There are some good ones!
This one has been on my TBR for ages! I first came across it through Tsh Oxenreider, who described it as the “manifesto” she uses to kickstart a new year.
I enjoyed it, especially the side-by-side comparisons the author uses to highlight the differences between essentialists and non-essentialists. Thinking about them in two separate columns helped me hold up a mirror to my own habits and acknowledge which column I land in.
For me, this wasn’t a lightbulb, turn-your-life-upside-down kind of read. I’m minimalist by nature—if I’m not careful, I can turn into a no-nonsense efficiency tzar—so I don’t usually need much convincing to cut out the waste and get down to the essentials. That said, it did spotlight an issue I’ve been running into: letting menial chores swell into time-sucks. And that realization helped me see why I’ve been struggling to carve out time for something I deeply value and really want to do.
My rating: 3/5
I’ve been hearing about Never Let Me Go since it came out in 2005, but I’ve avoided it until now. Why? Because dystopian novels are rarely my thing, and the blurb just felt too bleak.
But what do you do when a book has been recommended a dozen times? At some point, you cave.
And I’m glad I did. It’s an absolutely engrossing story, and Kazuo Ishiguro’s writing is superb. He created a world that was both shocking and believable—a place I couldn’t look away from, even as I wanted to escape it.
I know, that’s the point. The book is meant to make us uncomfortable. But the truth is, it left me feeling heavy inside—and that’s not usually why I read. I do think it's possible that the timing of my reading played a role in how dark it felt, but anyway, there you have it.
My rating: 3.5/5
I first heard about Recursion on Hailey Pham’s YouTube channel, and the glowing Goodreads reviews sealed the deal.
It’s a time-travel story centered on Helena, a neuroscientist who invents a memory-preserving chair in hopes of helping her mother and others suffering from dementia. But when the technology is stolen, it sparks unforeseen consequences that spiral outward—causing collateral damage on an ever-larger, catastrophic scale. Like many stories in this genre, it wrestles with the question: would we really be better off if we could rewrite our past?
It honestly reads like it was made to be a sci-fi blockbuster—fast-paced, clever, and compelling. My only critique? It dragged on a little too long. Trim 25% from the middle and it would’ve packed the same punch with even greater impact.
I saved the second nonfiction book for last because it’s the review I’m most intimidated to write. Here goes.
This book explores the divided state of our souls, and how the stories we tell are attempts to understand that divide. Author Heidi White says that humanity is split with imbalances between duty and desire. These imbalances are universal, but uniquely expressed. Some of us lean hard into doing the right thing, others into how we feel. Basically, some are naturally bent toward asking, “What ought I do?” while others ask, “What do I want to do?" But nobody succeeds in perfectly balancing the two, due to our inherited broken state.
White shows how this ongoing tug-of-war between duty and desire lies at the heart of the stories we’ve told throughout history—from The Odyssey to The Lord of the Rings, from poetry to even children’s books like Anne of Green Gables. Life’s most important battle—sometimes won and sometimes lost—sits at the center of them all.
"Literature is both a window and a mirror--a window into a world beyond ourselves and a window into the world of ourselves."
(from The Divided Soul)
Here's a favorite quote from the book and some things I've been considering since reading it:
What does it look like to be an "exuberantly curious" person?
How about "intellectually hospitable?"
How do you know you are talking to an exuberantly curious person?
How could one identify that a person is not intellectually hospitable?
Are today's Christians, as a group, a people who could be described as exuberantly curious and intellectually hospitable? Why or why not?
The Close Reads podcast held their annual “Great Winnowing” episode on September 8th, where they announce the lineup for next year's books. This year’s rollout felt especially exciting—for me, because I had just finished The Divided Soul and was itching to dive deeper into new literature.
In honor of America’s 250th birthday, the majority of the selections are by American authors.
What a stack it is! For once, there isn’t a single title I feel wary of. Even better, I already owned six of them, so I only had to track down three more (two used, one new).
If the photo above is hard to read, I’ve listed the lineup below along with a link to the episode. Are any of you planning to read along with the Close Reads crew? I’ll share the schedule once it’s released. (Fair warning: the podcast isn’t always very mood-reader friendly—I'm worried they'll assign Little Women in midsummer, and I just can’t bring myself to read Jo March in July!)
- Michael Knowles, speaking on Charlie Kirk's assassination.
That the powerful play of life goes on, and you may contribute a verse!
-from Walt Whitman's poem "O Me! O Life!"
The second one is quoted in the movie Dead Poet's Society, which I watched for the first time in September. Every time I think of that line, I get a little jolt--like a reminder to make sure I'm really living.
Thanks for taking the time to read my thoughts. I hope to talk to you all soon.
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