The Books That Almost Got Away

I was fairly excited to start this book because it appeared to promise adventure, curiosity, and love. In the end, it did have these elements, but it didn’t present them in the way that I was expecting. When I first started reading this book, I was put off by the sad tone and the monotonous nature of the events. Despite this, I continued to read it until I finished about half the book. At this point, I wasn’t really feeling it. It was aimless and tragic, which are two things I didn’t know I’d get when I decided to read it in the first place. Because of these factors, I chose not to finish it. I just didn’t see the appeal. Well, that didn’t last too long. After a couple days, I kept thinking about a particular scene in the book that didn’t make sense. Why had that happened? What was the purpose? My curiosity wouldn’t let me let go of the book until I read a little further. And I was not disappointed. After reading a few more chapters, the book took an unexpected turn that I liked. These scenes included more action and some profound conversations. I zoomed through the remaining pages and by the time I finished, I knew it’d be one that’d stick with me for a long time. This book wasn’t what I expected, but it was better. I just hadn’t recognized what the writer had created until later.

—Gia R.

As the world raved about Good Talk — a graphic memoir by Mira Jacob that delves into her experiences with racism through the conversations she has with her family and friends — I remained disinterested. I had seen preview pages at one point but, after determining that I wasn’t in love with the artwork, decided not to read any further. Then Feminist Book Club members voted it in as one of their monthly picks and, well, if a book club tells me to read something, I read it. Once I gave it a chance, I became hooked. I loved the structure of the book. I loved the conversations Jacob had with her son. I loved the way the book made me giggle and made me angry and made me sob. I couldn’t believe that, with my quick judgment months before, I’d nearly missed out on an amazing memoir. I loved it so much, in fact, that I had my other book club read it. I think this sort of thing happens a lot, though. We make these snap judgments because of our mood in that moment. The place we’re at in life. Sometimes, it’s just not the right time for a book. But if we’re lucky, it will come back to us.

—Steph Auteri

With the current popularity of this television series on Netflix, you’d be surprised to know that I stopped reading this book halfway and did not pick it up again for two years. Yes, two years. Listen, I loved Alina, Mal, the Darkling, and all the drama, but for some reason it was not the time for me to read this YA fantasy. Maybe, at the time, I was too overwhelmed with all the fantasy books out there, but for some reason I felt like it had a slow start and I did not know if it would deliver the excitement I wanted and was looking for in a book. Boy, was I wrong. Once I picked it up again I was done with the whole series in a weekend and now I am a total Leigh Bardugo fan. I even moderated her in Miami Book Fair for Six of Crows, another one of her books that I enjoy, and it was awesome to hear her talk about her inspiration behind the Grishaverse. Thank you, book slump, for stopping me from reading it, and thank you, determination, for making me pick it up again. Now I recommend this series to family, friends, and students. Haven’t picked it up yet? Please do. Don’t wait years to finish it like I did, though…it’s worth the read!

—Aurora Lydia Dominguez

The Lord of the Rings holds an incredibly special place in my heart as it was probably one of my first experiences truly nerding out and becoming a real fan of something, and that world continues to provide me immense joy and comfort to this day. But it wasn’t always that way. I started out enjoying the movies as a 10-year-old, which led me to read The Hobbit, a book I loved. I then tried out The Lord of the Rings, and 6th grade me just could not do it. I gave up while Treebeard was talking to Merry and Pippin in Fangorn Forest because, my god, it was just. So. Slow. But after watching the movies another however many times and basically memorizing them in the intervening years, I returned to the book in high school. This time, I flew through the entire thing, appendices and all, and very happily solidified myself as the big Tolkien nerd I am.

—Patricia Thang

I first tried reading this one at 16, fresh out of high school, anxious to prove my intellect by reading what the literature major big city kids in college appeared to be reading. There was a lot of pressure to love this one, which did not help with getting into the slow and multi-layered story, especially without any knowledge of the historical subtexts. I gave up after reading about one fourth of the book, but for some reason carried it with me every time I moved. I picked it up again about five years after the first attempt, and I was mesmerised. I understood why this is such an important book, its anticolonial undertones, and the sheer magic of the prose. It remains one of my all time favorites, and was an introduction to magical realism, a genre that has led me to many other books that I’ve loved.

—Senjuti Patra

This happened to me several times in college: I’d be assigned parts of a book for a course, and then I’d have to wait until the end of the semester to have time to finish. I’m always happy I did so, especially when it came to The Devil in the White City, which I had to read a few chapters of for a creative nonfiction class. I have since read almost every book Larson has ever written! Other college-assigned books I finished on my own include Maus by Art Spiegelman (how could they only assign part one???) and The Silmarillion by J.R.R. Tolkien, which I’m not sure if I actually LIKED but I’m proud I finished the whole thing. It was quite a way to be introduced to Tolkien’s work, I can say that much!

—Eileen Gonzalez

My mother loved this book, so she was eager to start reading it to me. Too eager, in fact. I’m not sure when she first made the attempt, but clearly I didn’t have the attention span, because I remember listening to that opening sentence and immediately vetoing it. The opening line is incredibly long, describes scenery (which remains a dealbreaker for me), and isn’t even about Anne. I didn’t pick it up again until I was an adult, looking for a gentle, comforting read and intrigued by the sapphic subtext. I ended up loving it, and I even thought the first line was delightful. And yes, I definitely think Anne was in love with Diana.

—Danika Ellis