I’m sensing a trend in my reading this year: several books one month, very few the next. We’ll see if the pattern holds up.

Normally I read tons of books at the beginning of the year. But 2025 has been busy thanks to book edits of my own, houseguests, and copious February birthdays. I only have seven to review so far—but seven (mostly) good ones.

Ah, December—the month where I cram in as many books as I can to make up for a perceived yearlong laziness due to Catholic guilt. This year wasn’t too bad, actually—I only read five throughout the month.

In which I reread multiple books in order to better jump into their sequels. And then some.

Oops, I did it again. I fell behind on my reading blogs. Got lost in the game…of starting a new business and finishing my own book. Enough Britney—onto the reviews.

And now, the post you’ve been waiting for: part two of the twenty books I’ve read since the last time I remembered to blog.

I have finished twenty books since I last blogged about my reading. Whoops. I shall now attempt to catch up in two, ten-book posts. I’ll keep the reviews short, for everyone’s sake.

I have been slacking on my reading blogs. I’ll have to cover February (many books) and March (few books) in one go.

New year, new books. I’m already off to a strong start with 7 books in January.

Whenever the end of the year rolls around, I read a ton of books in an effort to boost my annual count—which, by the way, was officially 74 in 2023. This past December I had lots of extra time to read while I was semi-vacationing in Santa Fe, so I really went for it.

November is still spooky season, in my opinion. And I got through even more spooky books in November than I did in October.

Spooky season, spooky books. I don’t make the rules.

I’m not sure this has ever happened to me since I started methodically keeping track of the books I read—but I only read one book in September. One.

I’ve been reading a lot of self-help and memoir lately for…a project. I must admit, I was skeptical of the self-help genre as a whole, but I’ve been pleasantly surprised! Squeezed a few novels in there too, of course. My brain requires fiction to properly function.

After 3.5 years, I finally caught COVID-19. My fever broke, but I’m still in the quarantine period—so this is probably a good time to tell you what I read in June and July, right?

Since it’s almost July, I should probably tell you about the books I read in May. Don’t you think?

In the immediate aftermath of my dad’s death, April was a rough month for me. But I still managed to read some incredible books. To devour some incredible books might be more accurate.

The past two months I’ve been subjected to extreme emotional whiplash. In February, I went to Stockholm for my birthday—what a treat! And in March, my dad entered hospice and swiftly died. Somehow, through all of it, reading remained a constant comfort.

I thought December was ridiculous—and then I read TEN BOOKS in January. The pages are a nice place to hibernate for the winter.

Sometimes things slow down at work and you read nine books in a single month. I am living proof.