Instead of burying book reviews into a Casual Friday post, I thought I’d do a little lengthy summary of what I’ve been reading lately.

The Bullet That Missed by Richard Osman.
These books, in my opinion, just keep getting better. I think the witty banter is genius. Osman’s writing is a specific brand of dry humour and I absolutely love it. Will everyone love it? No. But 70,000+ people on Goodreads have given this book a 4.46/5 rating, so I know I’m not alone.
For those who aren’t familiar, The Bullet That Missed is the third* in a series of murder mysteries that center on a group of retired seniors solving cold (and hot!) cases. They may be old, but they’re hilarious and smart.
I almost never publically rate a book because I am so darn picky, but this was a 5/5 for me. (Yes there are swear words, yes I wish they weren’t there, but there aren’t many and this book is still delightful).
*I do think these books are best read in order. It’s not imperative, but they aren’t exclusively standalone and it helps to have additional context provided by the first and second books.

My Lovely Wife in the Psych Ward by Mark Lukach
Beautifully written and absolutely heartbreaking, this memoir chronicles the experience of Mark and Giulia Lukach – university sweethearts whose marriage was quickly rocked by an unexpected mental health crisis. The book is written by Mark as he cares for his wife who has repeated psychotic episodes requiring lengthy hospital stays. This reminded me of Between Two Kingdoms, with the notable difference that this book is told from the caregiver’s perspective.
I read this in one sitting en route to Rome and it brought tears to my eyes. Trigger warnings abound. This book is unrelenting and painful to read, but also full of hope and honesty.
She had gotten stuck between channels and all that was broadcasting in her mind was crackling white noise, which drove her mad and scared me to death. The medicine was like turning down the volume. The channels might still be stuck, but at least the set was no longer spewing the deafening static. The volume had to be lowered until the channels could work again.
I realized then why people call suicide hotlines. The person on the other end of the line wasn’t a therapist, wasn’t going to prescribe medicine, wasn’t going to convince the caller to feel differently, wasn’t going to love the caller the way a family member would. The person on the other end of the line was going to listen without judgment or fear, an invaluable gift…
When we sat down to discuss medication doses, or a timeline for getting pregnant, or the risks of taking lithium during pregnancy, we were essentially saying “I love you.” My exact words might have been “I think you’re rushing things,” but the subtext was “I want you to be healthy and fulfilled, and I want to spend my life with you. I want to hear how much you disagree with me, about something that is as personal as it gets, so that we can be together.“
What We Don’t Talk About When We Talk About Fat by Aubrey Gordon.
This was a well-written book and provides a fresh perspective on discussions of body image, health, and discrimination. The author is morbidly obese and chronicles the truly horrifying situations she has had to endure; from being tailed on the street by people spouting verbal abuse, to having strangers remove items from her cart at the grocery store, to being refused medical support due to her size, to being sexually assaulted and a host of other traumatic experiences.
Gordon raises many important points about how our society views fat and obesity.
The oversimplicity of the BMI has also fed into a ruthless, black-and-white cultural conversation about health and weight loss. The logic goes like this: every thin person is healthier than every fat person, every fat person can become thin if they try hard enough, fat people simply eat too much, and our greed and gluttony have made us fat. As such, size becomes an indicator of character and willpower.
Regardless of the topic, shame doesn’t motivate change; it instead conveys that the shamed party is simply a bad person, and nothing can be done about that.
Ultimately, anti-fatness isn’t based in science or health, concern or choice. Anti-fatness is a way for thinner people to remind themselves of their perceived virtue. Seeing a fatter person allows them to remind themselves that at least I’m not that fat. They believe they have chosen their body, so seeing a fat person eat something they deem unhealthy reminds them of their stronger willpower, greater tenacity, and superior character. We don’t just look different, the thinking goes; we are different. Thinner people outwit their bodies. Fatter people succumb to them. Encounters with fatter people offer a welcome opportunity to retell that narrative and remind themselves of their superiority.
Over time, I have come to learn that these moments – the threats, the concern, the constant well-intentioned bullying – run even deeper than a simple assumption of superiority. It is a reminder so many thin people seem to desperately need. They don’t seem to be talking to me at all. They seem to be talking to themselves.
This Is Not a Book About Benedict Cumberbatch by Tabitha Carvan
I went into this book mostly “blind” with the exception of knowing this has been a recent mini-sensation of sorts.
Heavy sigh.
At the end of the first chapter, I thought I was going to love the book! But after that, it felt forced and repetitive.
For a book that is NOT about Benedict Cumberbatch, the author discusses him a lot. (To be fair, my favourite part of the book was the appendix – which is, interestingly enough, a body part the actor no longer has – which is full of behind-the-scenes facts about Benedict Cumberbatch.
The basic premise is that an exhausted mother finds solace and a new lease on life by becoming obsessed with all things Benedict Cumberbatch. She watches all his movies and shows, her husband buys her merch for every holiday, and she displays his picture on her desk at work. Her argument is that it’s fun – healthy, even – to have these minor (or major) obsessions.
I agree to a point. But, again, I found this book cumbersome (I only realized the pun after I wrote this sentence; go me!) and a slog and kind of icky. That said, Chapter Five: This Is a Chapter About Guilt was a refreshing glimpse into motherhood!
…there was nothing in my life that wasn’t at least partially subsumed into motherhood…This makes me think of a vintage brooch I once saw in an antique jewelry store. It had gold cursive script spelling out Mother…I pictured the Mother who once owned it, smiling at herself in the dressing-table mirror as she pinned it on, this very beautiful label. I found it strange that she would want to announce herself in this way, because when you are a mother, being Mother is already so close to the surface of everything you do that adding extra decorative layers hardly seems necessary. But perhaps she deployed the brooch like a kind of taxi light. If the brooch is on, the Mother is available. And then, thrillingly, the brooch can come off! There she is, stretched on a chaise lounge, a novel in one hand, a martini in the other; when someone approaches her with questions regarding the whereabouts of their karate uniform, she points to her bare lapel, smiles and shakes her head. No, the Mother is not available. [I do this! I will actually tell the kids, I’m headed off duty, direct all questions to your father. When they come – inevitably – to ask me something, I will shake my head and repeat: Off Duty!]
The Perfectionist’s Guide To Losing Self Control by Katherine Morgan Schafler
I have feelings about this book. For the first half, I was convinced it would be a 5/5. By the end, I was thinking more along the lines of 3.5/5. There is so much great content, but it gets mired in too. many. words. As things progressed, the book felt very scattered and redundant and while Schafler wove lots of short stories of her experiences as a therapist, they weren’t as memorable/relatable for me as Maybe You Should Talk to Someone by Lori Gottlieb. It’s a shame because this is a great book, the length just makes it tedious. Despite my mixed experience with the book, I wrote down a lot of quotes! I also really enjoyed reading about the types of perfectionism (I’m a 30/30/30 mix of Classic, Parisian, and Intense with a few other types in much smaller quantities)!
Perfectionists are not balanced people, and that’s okay. Subscribing to prepackaged notions of balance and generic wellness when they don’t fit who you are isn’t being healthy, it’s being obedient.
Perfectionists are intelligent people who understand that everything can’t work out perfectly all the time. What they sometimes have trouble with is understanding why they still feel so disappointed by imperfection in the face of that intellectual concession…[Yes to this!!]
Perfectionism is the invisible language your mind thinks in, the type of perfectionism that shows up in your everyday life based on your personality is just the accent. [Loved this.]
I don’t know one balanced woman. I know a lot of women who are two extra days in a week away from feeling balanced, or one professional housecleaning service away from feeling balanced, or one generous extension on the deadline away from feeling balanced, or three entire days of their children in someone else’s loving and competent care away from feeling balanced…It’s very easy to get hooked on the feeling that you’re really close to achieving balance, like a gambler at a blackjack table playing just one more time for the fifty-fourth time – but alas, the house always wins. Balance remains one step ahead, the ever-elusive prize of female modernity. [Again, YES!]
We buy into the admittedly alluring goal of balance because we believe two false promises. The first promise is that life is generally static…The rule is that if your life isn’t automated and flowing seamlessly from one day to the next, you’re doing something wrong. The second promise is that all your most basic and complex needs, longings, desires…could be met in the first place, and that they could be met simultaneously, and still that they could all be met simultaneously while you’re also reasonably meeting the innumerable social, professional, and familial obligations that result from being a basic contributing member of society.
Our contemporary view of balance is based on the notion that your life could ever fit on a to-do list in the first place, and that once you finish the to-do list and match your problems to their adjacent solutions, you can expect to feel a satisfying click…If you haven’t experienced the clicking yet, it’s because you’re not balanced enough. You’re not doing it right. Being “balanced” has become synonymous with being “healthy.” If you’re not a balanced woman, you’re not a healthy woman.
…making partner at a law firm is like a pie-eating contest where the prize is more pie. Balance is a lot like that. The more tasks you’re able to successfully balance, the more bandwidth you create to, drumroll…balance more tasks. [This reminds me a lot of some of Oliver Burkeman’s central theses in Four Thousand Weeks.]
“How do you balance work and motherhood?” It’s a question every professional woman with kids is regularly asked. Professional men who are also parents are not asked the paternal version of this question because fathers are not expected to be primary caregivers. Hence, women who work outside the home call themselves “working moms,” but men who work outside the home don’t call themselves “working dads.” This is also why fathers don’t experience the same level of guilt over competing demands in their work life and home life, because they don’t share the same level of competing demands (excel professionally while also managing the children’s care, school schedules, playdates and doctor’s appointments; the couple’s social life; the housecleaning; etc.). [Yes. I work part-time and almost exclusively from home and I still feel this way 100%.]
“Hot mess” is an external descriptor because the external is what counts; women’s internal experience is secondary to the way they look. This mirrors the assumption that if women are thin, they’re also healthy, regardless of what’s happening behind the scenes. What’s culturally incentivized is not being healthy for yourself, it’s seeming healthy for others. [Reminded me a lot of similar points in the Audrey Gordon book.]
We all feel tension at times. We notice the space between the ideal we envision and the reality plunked down in our laps. The noticing creates a tightening, which then seeks an outlet for release. Feeling the tightening and seeking release is an everyday experience for perfectionists. Perfectionists live with a tension inside them that never goes away. Like a light that makes a sound when it’s on, you get used to the hum.
Instead of attention-seeking behaviours, try looking at them as connection-seeking behaviours. [I need to do this in parenting, especially.]
Instead of looking at a schedule and saying “do I have time” look at it and say “will I have the energy.” [Such a helpful distinction.]
- Decompression = passive relaxation = emptying yourself out
- Playing = active relaxation = filling yourself up
- Restoration = passive relaxation + active relaxation
You are not on earth to complete tasks and then die. You are not a bar graph of output. You are a human being.
You can’t control grief by subtracting joy from your life. You can’t control grief, period. [I think you could substitute grief here for a lot of other hard emotions.]
Don’t save anything for a special occasion; being alive is the special occasion.
Think of who you were five years ago and how much you’ve grown since then. If you could go back in time and transplant your brain and all that you’ve learned into the five-years-ago version of you, it would blow your five-years-ago mind. What used to be your ceiling is now your floor. You float across waters that you used to flail and thrash in. [I love this perspective and it’s so true.]
Kurashi at Home: How to Organize your Space by Marie Kondo
I love me a good home organization book and I really enjoyed Marie Kondo’s earlier books. But this was a big fail for me.
- She repeatedly tells rather involved stories about artwork she especially loves and provides specific details on organizational systems in her home – but despite the book being filled with almost 200 pictures, NONE of the things she mentions are shown. I found this disproportionately disappointing.
- The rituals described seemed utterly unattainable. For example, Kondo recommends HAND-WASHING the floor in your entranceway every single day. There are dozens more things like this that I read and thought: in what universe could I manage to do X, Y, Z? Like removing the shampoo and soap/body wash from the shower every time so the shower looks more aesthetically pleasing, or having only a single set of shoes for each family member out in the entryway.
- On the topic of shoes, she also suggests washing the soles! “We should really give them the respect they deserve. That’s why I adopted the habit of wiping the soles of my shoes before bed or first thing in the morning when I wipe down my entryway. And as I do, I thank my shoes for supporting me all day.” *Crickets*
- Back to the pictures. They are all meaningless. They are uber-minimalistic shots of things that have almost no relevance to what she’s talking about. I found the whole thing utterly confusing and not at all motivational.
I know others have loved this book – and I do wonder how I would feel if the pictures hadn’t been such a major disappointment – but this didn’t strike the right chord with me.
plots vs. feelings
Without a doubt, the most frustrating part of my reading experience is how quickly I forget plots. Within a day of finishing a novel, I will struggle to remember key twists. Within a month, I am almost guaranteed to not be able to tell you how it ends (I’m the same with movies; people who can quote at length from movies they saw 20 years ago BLOW MY MIND). This is especially frustrating because I am known for retaining tiny bits of personal information about people. A cashier could tell me the name of her cat and chances are good I’ll remember it the next time I see her (even if that “next time” is five years later). I’ve tried reading books more slowly. I’ve taken notes. But it doesn’t work and it takes some of the magic out of the experience. Still, it can feel like a waste to spend so much time reading a book only to promptly forget it. (In general, I retain a lot more from non-fiction reading.)
But I’ve been reminding myself of something I heard on an old episode of the No Stupid Questions Podcast specifically about this topic. One of the hosts commented how this is relatively common, but most people remember how a book makes them feel. And this? This is so true for me. I can forget 95% of the storyline, but I will remember if a story made me laugh or cry. I’ll remember if I felt sad to turn the last page – dreading saying goodbye to characters I had loved – or relieved to have reached the end of a slog.
definitions
One of my favourite features of having an e-reader? A built-in dictionary. Hover over a word and then, magically, a definition will appear. My problem? I never seem to remember these new words/definitions. The one exception is copse, which I read in a YA book several years ago and now seem to see everywhere. (FYI: A copse is a small group of trees.)
Your turn. If you read the Thursday Murder Club Mystery books, who is your favourite character (I think mine is Elizabeth, mostly because I love how Osman depicts her marriage to Stephen)? Are you good at remembering plot points from books; if so, what’s your secret? Do you look up unfamiliar words? Do you remember the definitions? Do you wash the soles of your shoes every night?
Header photo by Sincerely Media on Unsplash