The Summer I Read, Created, and Made Space

Because sometimes all you need is a library card and a comfy chair

As I write this, it’s a gorgeous late summer day in New York City. Although the calendar says the first day of fall is Monday, I’m still struggling to say goodbye to summer. This post is a partial wrap-up of my summer of #manifestandmake. There are a few other experiences I’d like to share with you, and I hope you’ll indulge me—even if the posts arrive when it’s officially autumn.

As part of my summer of #manifestandmake, I took part in The New York Times Summer Reading Bucket List challenge. I completed 7 of the 10 categories, with my total summer reading count coming to 12 books—10 fiction and 2 nonfiction. I consider it a solid effort, and I’m reading more this year than last. As we are approaching fall, my neighborhood book club is starting up again, and my TBR list remains as long as ever.

For the challenge, I read Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan, one of The New York Times's best books of the 21st century. For a recent release, I chose Say You'll Remember Me by Abby Jimenez, it was also my book club’s June pick. To step outside my usual genres, I read Let Them by Mel Robbins and Sawyer Robbins. My book in translation was Love Me Tender by Constance Debré, translated by Holly James. For a writer I’d never read before, I picked Tulip Fever by Deborah Moggach. A book that took place in the summer, I read The Summer Before the War by Helen Simonson. And finally, from my local library, I read Worry by Alexandra Tanner.

The other books I read this summer were The Tower by Flora Carr, Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Armfield, Little Rabbit by Alyssa Songsiridej, The Lost Apothecary by Sarah Penner and the exquisite memoir from Molly Jong-Fast, How To Lose Your Mother.

With author Molly Jong-Fast at a 92Y event in June

I enjoyed all of the books—some more than others of course. I am not offering reviews, because reading is so subjective: what resonates with me may not resonate for you. I almost always take something away from a book, even if I don’t love it. Everyone has a different system for choosing and tracking what they’ve read. I use a Google Sheet where I log the title, author, and month/year read, organized into two tabs: fiction and nonfiction.

How do I decide what to read? I gravitate toward historical fiction and often find excellent recommendations in a historical fiction group I stumbled upon on Facebook. I also read books suggested by friends, fellow writers, social media, and publications like The New Yorker and The New York Times. When I travel, I love wandering in local bookstores and discovering authors from the region. That’s how I found the delightful The Ghost Cat by Alex Howard while in Scotland. My phone is also full of screen shots of books I hope to read.

All the fiction I read this summer came from my local library—thank you, Queens Public Library, Sunnyside branch! All the authors were also new to me.

The categories I didn’t complete were: re-read a book you loved as a kid, listen to an audiobook, and read a book that takes place somewhere you’ve never been. I had checked out The Indian in the Cupboard by Lynne Reid Banks but had to return it after reaching my renewal limit. Perhaps, I’ll try again; I vividly remember sitting on the floor after lunch in fifth grade while Mrs. Brown read us a chapter each day. I don’t typically listen to audiobooks, but I’m willing to give them a try—please let me know if you have a great recommendation. I’ve also only recently started dabbling in podcasts, which proves I can evolve. As for the category “a book that takes someplace you’ve never been,” I usually prefer reading a book set in a place I’m about to travel to. Since we’re heading to Spain in December, A Bookseller in Madrid by Mario Escobar is waiting in my TBR pile.

When discussing books, I’d be remiss not to mention my recent visit to the wonderful Hudson River Museum in Yonkers. One of its permanent exhibits, on display for over forty-five years, is Red Grooms’s The Bookstore, a whimsical sculpture inspired by the Isaac Mendoza Book Company and The Morgan Library. I loved stepping inside this bright, colorful, imaginative piece—it felt like entering a living book display. This alone is worth the trip, but the museum also offers other permanent and rotating exhibits, plus the attached Glenview historic home, which doubles as Mrs. Astor’s home in The Gilded Age.

Inside Red Grooms’s The Bookstore at the Hudson River Museum

In July, I decided I needed a dedicated space for reading, writing, meditating, and manifesting. Since I work from home, I wanted something separate from my workspace—and different from my nightly routine of reading in bed.

Meet the chair! I ordered a chair, assembled it, and created a cozy nook in our bedroom. There was already a bookshelf there, and I’ve since claimed a shelf for journals, books in progress, and my Outlander oracle cards. I added a small table for fresh flowers, a candle, and new dragonfly-themed coasters. What I’ve been calling my daily “chair time” has become a transformative ritual. It’s time just for me—to explore creative ideas, journal, and, of course, read.

The chair! I should note I have to share my chair with Clawdette and Little Edie (not pictured)

During “chair time”, I usually pick up something different from the fiction I read at night. Currently, it’s Anchored: How to Befriend Your Nervous System Using Polyvagal Theory by Deb Dana. I’ll admit I had never heard of Polyvagal Theory before, and I’ve had to look up a lot of the terminology or re-read passages to fully grasp them. But I love challenging myself and learning something new.

I’ll be sharing more about “chair time”— so watch this space. In the meantime, let me know in the comments what you’re reading or listening to! And don’t forget to #manifestandmake during this last official summer weekend.

Just a quick note, I used my Amazon Associates link for Amazon recs.