Happy New Year! I actually liked books in 2018 and here’s the proof

Here’s a confession that has nothing to do with this post: Nearly every single time I write anything or introduce myself in a bookish setting in any way, I am overwhelmingly tempted to write/say-sing “Hey what’s up hello myyyy name is Emma and today we’re talking about dinosaurs/writing about my undying affection for that picture of Orlando Bloom riding a bike with his dog in a DIY Baby Björn/thinking about the 80 cookies I baked that are sitting downstairs/stressing about volcanos that are past due to explode,” like Emma Books who I think might have an excess of Ms in her username and also is constantly totally irrevocably messing up my SEO.

Anyway, in this case I’d conclude that catchphrase-stealing with “wrapping up the year on a rare positive note.” Woo! Continue reading

Happy new year! Here’s everything I liked in 2017 (hint: it’s not that much)

Confession: Sometimes, I experience actual, human emotions.

I know. How could a person capable of feelings be such a goddamn monster on the internet? The answer confounds even me, said monster herself.

But lately I’m feeling a bit melancholy about 2017 – as a reading year, that is. Personally, and in most other ways, it’s been a great year. (Not politically. Not societally. Or judicially. But for me. Prepare for more selfishness throughout this post.)

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