Category Archives: Books & Reading

I read my first Margaret Atwood books in college in the mid-1980s—most memorably The Edible Woman, Bodily Harm, and The Handmaid’s Tale. Forty years later, in November 2025, I had the pleasure of listening to Atwood narrate Book of Lives: A Memoir of Sorts, published in her eighty-fifth year. It felt like a full-circle moment.

I expected this memoir to include Atwood’s keen insights into events past and present, literary and otherwise, and I wasn’t disappointed. What I didn’t expect, but ended up being delighted by, were her family stories about growing up in Canada in the years before, during, and after World War II. They were personal, unique, and self-reflective, but also provided historical, cultural, and sociological context.

As one would expect, Atwood (1939- ) took her memoir-writing assignment seriously. Not content to limit her scope to just her own life, she describes her mother’s and father’s experiences growing up in rural Nova Scotia in the early 20th century, providing information on their parents and siblings, education, early jobs, and admirably egalitarian marriage. She characterizes her mother’s background as genteel-rural and her father’s as backwoods-rural, but notes that as adults “they could switch back and forth between country and city with hardly any effort…” (56).

Atwood then moves on to her own childhood, significant portions of which were spent in the Canadian wilderness where her entomologist father conducted field research. Atwood tells great stories about these early years, detailing not only what “roughing it” was like for the family, but also sharing the idiosyncratic ways she and her slightly older brother, Harold, entertained themselves (manufacturing “poison,” conducting mold-growing experiments, creating illustrated superhero stories, etc.).

Writerly pursuits begin to figure more prominently in Atwood’s life during her high school years, and she publishes her first book of poetry in 1961, the year she graduates from Victoria College at the University of Toronto. From this point on her trajectory is that of a writer and participant in Canada’s burgeoning literary and publishing scene, where she will eventually cross paths with her future life partner, Graeme Gibson.

Prior to Gibson’s official introduction into the narrative, in chapter twenty-four, however, Atwood inserts three “Graeme, The Prequel” chapters (19, 21, and 23) to fill readers in on what this significant person in her life “was getting up to before I knew him” (462). Reminiscent of how she handled her parents’ stories early on, Atwood begins with Gibson’s birth in 1934. She doesn’t just provide formative stories from his early life, though; she also includes background on his parents and grandparents.

I’m convinced it’s these biographical digressions, during which Atwood extends her narrative to include the stories of loved ones’ lives prior to their intersecting with her own, that make this memoir feel more expansive than one would typically expect. I also believe it is what leaves me feeling like I’ve read a really good case study about Canadian life in the 20th century!

“Every writer is at least two beings; the one who lives, and the one who writes,” Atwood states in her introduction. If true, I’d argue this memoir is largely about the Atwood who lives. Writing certainly features prominently—many chapters are named after the books Atwood was working on during the covered time periods; and when describing exploits and artifacts in her life she often mentions where they later show up in her writing—but I wouldn’t say the focus ever lingers for long on “the writing process.” Given my decades-long interest in Atwood, I think I would have loved this memoir even if it focused more exclusively on the craft of writing; but truly, I don’t think I could have loved any alternate version more than I love the one she wrote, with its focus on lives lived!

Atwood, Margaret. Book of Lives: A Memoir of Sorts. Doubleday, 2025.

What happens in the days following a great cosmic event?

An event in which memories and history are lost to mortals across the galaxy?

Chaos. Power struggles. Starfinder’s greatest mystery — the Gap.

“Era of the Eclipse” follows two timelines, told through alternating perspectives. Dae and Chk Chk, both novice Starfinders, discover notes related to the Gap and the lost world of Golarion. This discovery sets them off on an adventure to unravel the truth. (But of course, there’s danger and a mysterious figure following every step.)

The memoir/notes follow Tyrcell, the android, on Absalom Station as they seek answers, survival, and party members during the earliest days following the Gap. The undead reality show host Zo! and the Hellknights work to extend their own power and control of information during this time as well, taking advantage of the confusion.

I’m not terribly familiar with the Starfinder roleplaying universe. This seemed like a pretty good place to start, as it explores not only the Gap, but also the founding of both the Starfinder Society and the Order of the Eclipse of Hellknights. The characters and setting are interesting and well written enough that I don’t feel like I’m missing anything beforehand (though I’m sure there are plenty of “easter eggs” for experienced players). The audiobook is narrated by Mike Dent who is great with the narration and the characters’ voices.

Pratt, Tim. Era of the Eclipse. Paizo Inc., 2025.

This past year, Kazakhstan entered into the Marrakesh Treaty, becoming the 100^th country to ratify the treaty.

Nations that enter into the Marrakesh Treaty agree to allow the import and export materials in accessible formats so that visually impaired people all over the world have increased access to books. The Marrakesh treaty has enabled the United States’ National Library Service to offer Talking Books in more than 50 different languages.

Perfect time for reading Dark Shadows: Inside the Secret World of Kazakhstan by Joanna Lillis.

While it’s quite a salacious title, it reads more like a post-Soviet history of the nation. Lillis aptly names the largest section of her work “identity crisis,” because in several ways, Kazakhstan is at odds with itself.

Kazakhstan officially gained statehood in the carving of the soviet union, according to Russia. Kazakhs, however, trace their lineage much further back–to the origination of the Kazakh Khanate in 1465. There has been a modern national effort to “reclaim” this history that many Kazakhs feel has been distorted. Lillis shows clearly the ways that Kazakhs work to uphold their culture in the aftermath of Russification.

Some in Kazakhstan disagree with any distancing from Russia. One reason is that Kazakhs only make up about 40% of the nation and its nationalist push has marginalized other ethnic groups. Another is that some view Russia as a necessary protector from other threats like China. Some do not want to poke the bear after the invasion of Ukraine.

The leader of Kazakhstan from its post-soviet foray until 2019, Nursultan Nazarbayev, made a frequent talking point of Kazakhstan’s goal of democratizing. That position, according to Lillis, got his party access to UN committees and invitations to summits and conferences. Nazarbayev never got less than 90% of the vote. All the while, protests were being violently shut down, protesters and political opponents arrested, disappeared or killed, critical newspapers banned, journalists threatened and beat up. Running throughout, there’s a strong questioning of Kazakhstan’s political identity.

Lillis interviewed a huge range of people and her writing is well-organized and engaging. She reported in Russia and Uzbekistan before moving her work to Kazakhstan. I’d recommend this to anyone interested in international politics or to anyone who is still quoting Borat.

Lillis, Joanna. Dark Shadows: Inside the Secret World of Kazakhstan. I.B. Tauris, 2018.

If you judge a book by its cover, it may also be true you can choose a book by the blurbs on the back. In this case:  Marilynne Robinson (Pulitzer Prize for Fiction), Alison Bechdel (recipient of the MacArthur “Genius” Award), Andrew Solomon (winner of the National Book Award), and Andy Borowitz (winner of the first National Press Club award for humor).  Schulz is a staff writer at The New Yorker and was the winner of the Pulitzer Prize in 2016 for her article, “The Really Big One,” about seismic risk in the Pacific Northwest.

As the title suggests, the book balances the emotions of grief and discovery. She artfully discusses the etymology of the word “loss” and the word “and.” If you are a reader who reads for writing? This book is for you. There are passages I read, and read again. It’s the kind of book you want to take a highlighter to for future reference. Kathryn describes losing her father while finding the woman who became her wife. Extreme sorrow with the endorphins of new love. The kind of feelings we can relate to with words we never thought to use.

While there were many parts of the book I found moving, this section near the end reflects my favorite takeaway.

“This is all we have, this moment with the world. It will not last, because nothing lasts. Entropy, mortality, extinction: the entire plan of the universe consists of losing, and no matter how much we find along the way, life amounts to a reverse savings account in which we are eventually robbed of everything. Our dreams and plans and jobs and knees and backs and memories; the keys to the house, the keys to the car, the keys to the kingdom, the kingdom itself; sooner or later, all of it drifts into the Valley of Lost Things.”

This resonated with me in a way that reveals my age like the rings on the trunk of a tree. And paired with the final sentence in the book—“We are here to keep watch, not to keep”—it epitomizes what the work as a whole offers: a poetic view on grief I’ve never discovered with any other writer. It is a balm.

Schulz, Kathryn. Lost & Found: Reflections on Grief, Gratitude, and Happiness. Random House, 2022