Secrets that burn: A review of Malibu Rising by Taylor Jenkins Reid

First off, thank you to NetGalley and Penguin Random House for a free eARC in exchange for an honest review. I’m a huge Taylor Jenkins Reid fan, and I requested this title honestly expecting not to hear back or to be denied. When I got the news that I was accepted to check it out early, I might have literally jumped and screamed a bit! Malibu Rising is probably my most anticipated read of 2021, and I loved it so much that I’m sure I’ll have to snag myself a physical copy when it comes out on June 1.

Quick synopsis: It’s 1983, and it’s the day of the Riva siblings’ — Nina, Jay, Hud, and Kit’s — notorious end-of-summer party, hosted at Nina’s beautiful cliffside home on the Malibu coast that attracts a wide variety of the rich and famous. But throughout the course of 24 hours (along with many flashbacks), more than a few secrets come to light that have the potential to ignite some major flames and force each sibling to come to terms with what it means to be family.

Dare I say it… but I think I might have loved Malibu even more than Daisy Jones & The Six and The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo?! And both of those novels were outstanding to say the least. Unlike her last two novels, this story is a family drama at its core, focusing on the lives each of the Riva siblings, whose father is the world-famous — yet largely absent — musician Mick Riva. But similarly to TJR’s past stories, she created a book that perfectly balances stunning character development with a fast-paced, highly readable plot that was ambitious, glamorous, and steamy, yet also so warm and tender in how it portrays its main characters, primarily each of the four siblings along with flashbacks to their mother June. I also enjoyed the large cast of characters — lots of times in books, extra characters can feel unnecessary or be too complicated to keep track of, but like always, TJR’s always writes characters with a purpose that perfectly ties them into her story in a memorable, meaningful way.

I especially loved the Riva siblings. While none of them were even close to perfect, so full of flaws and mistakes and secrets that you knew were bound to hurt those they loved the most, each one was so lovable and relatable despite major star-power. I especially adored the sisters, Nina and Kit, who I felt were the glue that held both this story’s plot and the Riva family together.

For lovers of TJR’s past works or those who just love a sensational, steamy family drama, I highly recommend Malibu Rising — it’ll definitely be the perfect beach read of summer 2021!

There’s power in a name: A review of The Office of Historical Corrections by Danielle Evans

You know that feeling when a book comes into your life at just the right time? That’s how I felt about this incredible collection of short stories and a novella. Overall, the collection was full of amazing stories that I think are all worthy to be checked out. But for the sake of this review, I’m going to focus on the novella, “The Office of Historical Corrections,” because in my opinion, if you have only time to read one story from this collection, it should be that one.

Quick synopsis: “[I]n the eye-opening title novella, a black scholar from Washington, DC, is drawn into a complex historical mystery that spans generations and puts her job, her love life, and her oldest friendship at risk.”

I read finished this story the day that the Capitol building was stormed by Trump supporters on January 6th. I’m only 25 years old, and I can honestly say this is the first time in my short life I felt truly scared. Scared for our sacred democracy, scared of white supremacy, scared of the consequences of selfish political leaders, and so much more.

The novella’s narrator is Cassie, a worker for the fictional Institute of Public History, more facetiously referred to as “the Office of Historical Corrections.” The job of its employees is to “address a different sort of public health crisis,” says Cassie. “We were the solution for decades of bad information and bad faith use of it. Our work was to protect the historical record, not to pick fights (guideline 1) or correct people’s reading of current news (guideline 2)” (pg. 165).

Warning: the following contains some spoilers. Keep reading at your own risk!

As a reader, I was first struck by how interesting this concept could be if followed perfectly — potentially a solution to people’s distrust of facts by providing an office that is designed to let the public know the truth. But like most things political and governmental, political correctness ends up taking the front seat, which often forces Cassie, who is Black, to choose to either ignore or accept corrections regarding race that don’t really serve to help anyone who it actually matters to, much to the malaise of those close to her, such as her boyfriend, who is also Black.

The plot really picks up when Cassie’s former coworker Genie creates a PR nightmare that requires Cassie — the Office’s token Black employee — to troubleshoot. Genie, also called Genevieve, is following a historical mystery of sorts involving a black man who supposedly was killed in the 1930’s near Milwaukee, but new information suggests he may not have actually been murdered. Genie is there to solve it, and Cassie is there to fix whatever Genie does that reflects poorly on the Office.

Without going into too many details that would severely ruin this story, what I will say is that the ending is truly devastating and unforgettable. But as a reader, I was left with this important message: there is power in naming something and calling a thing what it is. That is the grand lesson that Cassie must learn — whether she actually does so is another question. But the story’s ending in particular reveals not only the incredible freedom and power in revealing the truth and calling something by its proper name, but also the devastating effect it can have when some people choose to ignore it.

So as I read this book and simultaneously watched people storm the Capitol, I was reminded of the importance of putting a name to something and not sugarcoating it. I looked on Facebook and saw “friends” referring to those people as protesters, participating in their constitutional right to peacefully protest what they considered an unfair election. Some people suggested it was fully within the rights of Trump as President to encourage his supporters to simply protest.

But if we are to agree with the premise of “The Office of Historical Corrections,” then it is vital that we call a thing by its name. I am immensely thankful for the hosts of people who voiced what the events of January 6th actually were: insurrection caused by sedition, anarchy, domestic terrorism, white supremacy, an attack on democracy and free elections, and so much more.

I obviously wrote this review in retrospect of the Capitol storming, but it truly took me this much time to both process the events of that day and Evans’ stunning novella. If you’ve made it this far, I hope you found something thought-provoking in this review and are encouraged to read her novella (or hopefully the entire collection) if you haven’t already. I can see this whole short story collection being taught one day in a literature or critical race theory course. It’s just that good. This story is definitely the reason I will always love stories — for the way fiction can express truth and reveal knowledge in a way that transcends the pages and intertwines with reality.

Resiliency and womanhood: A review of The Girl With the Louding Voice by Abi Daré

When Book of the Month released their top five reader-voted Book of the Year finalists, I was in a bit of a sweat. I’m one of those subscribers that has two boxes, so I realized there was a good shot that I would have read them all! But luckily, there was one novel that I hadn’t picked up: The Girl With the Louding Voice. It’s one of those stories I have heard nothing but praise for, and it was certainly one of those “wish-I-had-chosen-that” books. I was fortunate to be able to use my free add-on to get this novel and read it along with one of my closest friends, Maggie!

Quick synopsis: This story follows Adunni, a bright 14-year-old Nigerian girl who dreams of completing her education. Despite the many obstacles she faces, she never loses sight of her dream to go to school, escape her poverty, and help other girls do the same, ultimately seeking the strength to find her own “louding” voice along the way.

This story was simultaneously heartwarming and heartbreaking. Told in broken English from Adunni’s perspective, it was a slower read as I digested each word of Adunni’s story. More than anything, I was so touched by her spirit and resiliency. And reading her story in first-person made it feel so much more personal and real. It felt like she was sitting next to me, just having a conversation about her life and experiences.

I think one of the most original things that this book included were fun facts about Nigeria that started each chapter toward the second half of the novel. As Adunni begins to work her way through a book full of facts on Nigeria, the author weaves them into each chapter, in ways that are either subtly or obviously related to that particular chapter.

I think we as readers need to really put emphasis on Own Voices storytelling — that is, diverse stories written by authors who have lived or are living the experiences of the characters they are writing about. Reading these facts was a way to show that Nigeria is a thriving, beautiful, powerhouse country, not the stereotype that many Western readers (myself included!) may view or have viewed Africa as. While Adunni’s story certainly illustrated some of the backward ways that Nigeria works when it comes to girls’ and women’s roles and values in society, these facts along with many multi-faceted female characters truly painted a view of Nigeria that was new to me and helped me recognize and shake the backward stereotypes I had in my head. This is why Own Voices stories are so vital!

Warning: the following contains some spoilers. Keep reading at your own risk!

I think my favorite part of this story were all of the strong, multifaceted female characters. Adunni, as the narrator and protagonist, was an obvious favorite, as the whole story hinges on her story. From the start, you want to root for her. She is sharp-tongued, opinionated, and brave, even in a man’s world that keeps beating her down (metaphorically and literally), from her father to her husband to her employer’s husband.

First, I loved Khadija, the second wife of Morufu, who really becomes a mother/older sister figure to Adunni. Even in that horrific time for Adunni, away from home and the third wife to a man she doesn’t love, Khadija shows Adunni such tender love and grace.

I also adored Tia, who becomes her mentor and teacher. She was just so easy to like — she definitely contrasted with the other neighborhood women who still followed the much stricter cultural values for women, such as marriage and children. I think her introduction just really aided Adunni in showing her what a life as a modern Nigerian woman can look like, but I was also deeply touched by Adunni’s role in helping Tia grow as a person and learn more about herself, even as a grown woman.

Big Madam was easily the most complex of all of the female characters — and 99% of the time, she was deeply unlikable. I hated the way she treated Adunni, from the physical and emotional abuse to the downright hatred and bullying. But Big Madam also was the perfect mirror of how the values placed on women in Nigeria can create this toxic attitude. While she does some downright horrific things, she also is subject to a culture that forces her to believe that marriage and children are more important than anything else, forcing her to settle for a husband that cheats on her, hurts and sexually abuses young women, and abuses her. Even while I strongly disliked her, there were moments between Adunni and her that really showed Big Madam’s human, vulnerable side.

But most importantly, perhaps, I most adored Adunni’s mother. While she was never present in the novel, having passed before Adunni’s story begins, she was such a fully present character. It is clear that she deeply shapes Adunni’s hopes, dreams, and veracity for life, and Adunni never forgets her mother’s dream that Adunni continue her education and forge a better life for herself.

Ambition, identity, and otherness: A review of Black Buck by Mateo Askaripour

So disclaimer: this was my first FIVE STAR read of 2020. Now, I used to throw 5 stars around like they were candy. But the more I read, the more I realized I needed to reserve that rating for the far and few — the ones that touched my heart, made me think differently about a topic, or stuck with me for whatever reason. Black Buck is certainly one of those stories.

The first thing that caught my eye (beyond the colorful, striking cover) was Mateo Askaripour’s very personal dedication — “To all of those who have ever been made to feel less than / I see you.” I love to see who authors dedicate their stories, something so personal to them, to, and I found it very powerful that Askaripour aimed it at basically everyone. After all, who hasn’t been made to feel less than before? And after reading this witty, pointed, and sharp critique of race, ambition, and otherness in America’s workforce, I couldn’t help but think back to his dedication.

Quick synopsis: Darren, a young and unambitious Black man living in NYC, is suddenly swooped up from his job at Starbucks into a sales role at a hot, new startup after a chance encounter with the company’s enigmatic leader. There, he finds himself the token POC in an office that is very, very white. As the story progresses and Darren learns to master the art of sales, he remakes himself into the titular Buck and makes it his mission to help other BIPOC infiltrate the workforce by teaching them to be masterful salespeople.

While Askaripour may not have intended for his debut to be read as a satire, I found it to be one of the freshest, sharpest satires I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading. The story was laugh-out-loud funny as it tackled startup culture, racism in the workforce, the intensity of sales, and more. But it was also incredibly cringe-inducing, as I watched Darren face a variety of of microaggressions in the workplace, from being told he looks like basically every Black celebrity, and even more outright and stomach-churning acts of racism.

At times, I remember thinking, there’s no way stuff like this could actually happen — but then again, doesn’t it? As an BIPOC person, I could relate to the feelings of inadequacy or otherness that Darren felt, along with this intense desire to live up to and even succeed the expectations laid out in front of him, both his own and of those around him. While the story certainly felt over the top, the feelings those scenes inspired were real, whether that was relatability, discomfort, even fear or sadness. And that’s exactly what makes a good satire — using these extreme, almost cartoonish scenarios to evoke feelings in the readers that are real and tangible.

Overall, this story was a profound examination of how race plays a role in business and beyond, but I think what it did best was address otherness and create a sense of community and belonging, especially for BIPOC and perhaps other marginalized groups. While I’m no skilled salesman in a NYC high rise, I certainly understand many of Darren’s feelings of needing to fit in and prove himself worthy. And while everyone has arguably experienced feeling like a “less than,” I think any BIPOC can attest that that feeling is sometimes deeply ingrained in us as a result of the system. And while I think many BIPOC readers especially be able to relate to, laugh with, and ache alongside, I definitely think this is a story that anyone can read and gain a whole new perspective.

What makes up an identity? A review of The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V. E. Schwab

For my first-ever review on this blog, I wanted to highlight one of my top reads of 2020 — The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab. This one was all over bookstagram, so when it became available as Book of the Month’s October pick, I absolutely knew I had to grab it! Plus as a former English major, I love finding stories that take classic literary tropes — in the case of Addie LaRue, a Faustian bargain — and twist and mold them into something razor sharp and fresh. Schwab 100% accomplished that with her 442-page masterpiece, and what screams fall-ish, spookier vibes than a deal with the devil?! Plus, if it’s any testament to my love for this fantasy-driven, historical fiction-laced, and romance-tinged story, my rescue pup is named is even named Addie after the book!

Quick synopsis: After Addie ignores the advice of a village elder “to never pray to the gods that answer after dark,” she strikes a deal with a dark, alluring, yet dangerous stranger that forces her to walk invisible across time, history, and geography. Determined to make peace with what it means to be forever alone and forever forgotten, Addie finds adventure in the world around her for the next 300 years. All that changes, however, when she meets a stranger in a bookstore later who finally remembers her face.

The first thing that grabbed my attention as a reader, even in the slow burn of a start, was Schwab’s mastery of language. Her prose is gorgeous, perfectly balancing detailed character development and a winding, provocative plot, both of which sucked me in. I’m usually a fast reader, but this one had me slowing down in order to savor each sentence down to the letter. It had me deeply thinking about my own choices, regrets, would-be’s, and future opportunities.

But where this story really captured my heart was Addie herself. She is exactly the type of character whom, as a reader, I adore deeply. She is courageous, intelligent, independent, resourceful, and clever, yet so achingly human in all of her imperfections. Despite the limitations of her curse — never being remembered by anyone — she manages to live her immortality to the fullest, attempting to find adventure in each new day while still experiencing the hardships that all humans face: that is, heartbreak, pain (physical, psychological, and emotional), loss, fear, etc. Addie is the sort of character I wish I could be friends with in real life, which for me, is the true mark of an amazing, well-developed character. Her story is an incredible testament to the importance of living life to the fullest, loving deeply, and staying true to yourself. 

But the most important facet of this story, for me at least, was its exploration of what makes up one’s identify. Is is a face, a name, an idea, or something else entirely? Addie’s experience of living forever, yet never being remembered, takes the idea of identity — or lack thereof — to a new level. And while I can almost assuredly say that none of us will experience anything exactly like it, don’t many of us at least understand her struggle to find herself?

As a 25-year-old woman, identity is one of those themes that is close to my heart. It feels like every action I take, every choice I pursue is in constant pursuit of finding my own identity. I related so much to Addie’s search for herself, even when it seemed nearly impossible. Her journey reminded me of the importance of living life fully, loving deeply, and staying true to yourself — all ingredients that lead to recognizing and understanding one’s identity.

My top 10 favorite books of 2020

What a year 2020 was! I don’t know about you, but it’s certainly not one I’ll be forgetting anytime soon. Aside from all the craziness of pandemic living, one good thing it gave me was time — which lead to reading 81 books from a wide variety of writers and across a range of genres and topics. And while I know it’s almost the end of January, I wanted to officially put forth my top 10 favorite books of 2020!

10 – The Star-Crossed Sisters of Tuscany by Lori Nelson Spielman

This book was one of the biggest delights of 2021! When the book popped up as one of the November Book of the Month choices, I picked it purely because Italy (where the story takes place) sounded like such a wonderful escape during a time in my life that was rather difficult. But I ended up falling in love with the second-born Fontana sisters (Poppy, Emilia, and Lucy), cursed never to find love. This book, while funny and oftentimes light-hearted, was far from fluffy, diving into serious topics, as the Fontana women not only discover more about each other, but also learn more about themselves as individuals. Overall, it was a wonderful tale of family forgiveness, self-discovery, and learning how not to let others’ opinion (or even you own self cloud of judgment) define who you are.

9 – These Violent Delights by Chloe Gong

If you didn’t know, I am a major Shakespeare fan girl (my college capstone was actually about feminism in his plays, but we can talk about that a different time!). But surprisingly, my least favorite play of his is actually Romeo and Juliet. Maybe it’s the countless poor re-imaginings of it out there or the tired old star-crossed lovers trope — or least that’s what I’m going to blame, because Gong’s debut novel completely transformed my view. It was such a fresh take on an old classic, namely through its setting of 1920s Shanghai and its diverse cast. I mostly adored Juliette Cai — underneath a hard exterior was a character who cared deeply for her family, friends, and city and is willing to do whatever it takes to protect them. She is the heroine I wish I had growing up: someone who looks like me, experiences some of the same feelings I do as an Asian woman, and isn’t delegated to some basic, uninteresting, or stereotyped side character.

8 – Anna K by Jenny Lee

So confession — I just told you how much I adore a good reimagining. But I actually haven’t read Anna Karenina! It just seemed like one of those really intimidating classics, so alas, it has been left untouched on my shelf. Regardless, I adored Lee’s retelling. It read like a television show, giving off massive Gossip Girl vibes, but it was diverse — and actually diverse, not just “here’s some characters of color to please readers.” Anna K herself was smart, brave, and kind, and she was another character I wish I had read about as a teen trying to come to terms with my identity as an Asian American woman.

7 – Transcendent Kingdom by Yaa Gyasi

This book was a bit of slow burn for me, told from the point of view of Gifty, a PhD student studying the role of addiction on rats’ brains. Through this heavily character-driven story, I found myself sucked into Gifty’s narrative and she addresses her experience growing up in a Ghanian immigrant family in the Deep South and watching her brother and mom struggle with addiction and mental health, often in retrospect of her current role as a scientist. Her voice is so honest as she grapples with coming to terms as a scientist, daughter, sister, lover, and friend. For me, the most powerful part of Gyasi’s novel was her exploration of Gifty’s personal, sometimes contradictory, and oftentimes intertwining relationship between science and religion. Gyasi is a talented writer with artful control of language — I’m so glad to have discovered her this year.

6 – The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett

Sometimes a novel seems to just show up when the world needs it most — which is why this book became one of my favorite books of 2020. This story deals powerfully with race in a way I hadn’t discovered yet in fiction, and this year perhaps more than ever showed us that we need books that can do this and do it well. Each character was well-developed, making me feel like I knew them intimately, especially the twins: stubborn, vibrant Desiree, and intelligent, secretive Stella. This book is tenderly written and equal parts imaginative and grounded. It made me both escape inside the story and think hard about my world. And while it made me think about how much we as a society have to grow when it comes to how we deal with racism, it also gave me hope. It definitelyd deserved to be named Book of the Month’s Book of the Year!

5 – Anxious People by Fredrick Backman

So this was my first book by Fredrick Backman! I know he’s a fan favorite of many readers, and after this one, I can completely see why. For the first 100 pages or so, I honestly had no clue what I was reading — the plot was so weird, albeit funny, with a cast of oddball, off-kilter strangers. Yet through this charming story of a hostage situation gone wrong, Backman created a story that managed to touch my heart, make me both laugh and cry, and remind me of why stories done right about mental health are so important, as the story explores the lengths each character is willing to go for love, family, friendship, and forgiveness. There’s no surprise to me that this was a finalist for Book of the Month’s Book of the Year award.

4 – Interior Chinatown by Charles Yu

In 2019, after finally finishing up school, I made a promise to myself to work hard to explore writers of Asian, Asian American, and Pacific Islander descent. As an adopted Chinese American, I realized how powerful fiction was in allowing me to better explore my own culture and identity. Of all the amazing writers I have discovered, this hilarious and ultra-creative satire by Charles Yu really sticks out. For one, it is laugh-out-loud funny, but it also perfectly addresses the ways that Asians in media are portrayed. I think this perspective has been vastly left out of storytelling, so I am so glad that Yu’s story won the National Book Award for Fiction in 2020. This story spoke to my soul as an Asian American woman, and I was so touched by its beckoning to “be more” than any stereotype dictates of us or the world sees us as.

3 – The House in the Cerulean Sea by T.J. Klune

I recently revisited this book for the second time with a book club and a friend described it as a “warm hug of a book.” He could not have been more correct! I recently received my The StoryGraph results, which showed that I tend to read books that are emotional, mysterious, and reflective. So I love that a more lighthearted yet simultaneously thoughtful and touching love story cracked my top three. In a year that was full of collective challenges — isolation and fear from a pandemic, decisive politics, continued police brutality and reminders of the systemic racism still present in our society — this book was a breath of fresh air, as it followed case worker Linus Baker, enigmatic children’s home director Arthur Parnassus, and six magical, powerful children capable of bringing the world to its knees. It was not only lovely, heartwarming, and whimsical, but it was also a powerful reminder to embrace empathy, understanding, and acceptance of both self and others.

2 – The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab

If you didn’t know, Addie LaRue is a special book to me — so special, that I named my new puppy in honor of the titular character! But as Addie walks forgotten and invisible across time, history, and geography, I found her story to be a powerful testament to the importance of living life to the fullest, loving deeply, and staying true to yourself. Simultaneously, it did a great job pondering the question of what makes up an identity: a name, a face, an idea, or something else? By the time I hit the end of Addie’s story, I wanted more. She is the type of character who I wish I could be friends with in real life. She’s brave, resourceful, intelligent, and brimming with curiosity and adventuresome spirit. Despite immortality, she is so achingly human — and because of Addie alone, this book deserves its spot as my No. 2 favorite read of the year. Check out my full review here.

1 – The Midnight Library by Matt Haig

And for spot No. 1 — The Midnight Library! This wonderful story will probably always hold a special space in my heart. I remember finishing this book in a hotel room in Westchester County, N.Y., while my husband was on a virtual meeting. I attempted to hold in sobs as I reached the end — Erik thought some terrible tragedy had occurred, when really, I was just experiencing the power of fiction at its finest. Relatable-as-hell Nora Seed feels as if life has passed her by. Ultimately her choices — or lack thereof — bring her to titular Midnight Library, granting her the opportunity to pursue decisions she decided to bypass in her root life. What I love most about Haig is how he powerfully transforms his own experiences dealing with depression and suicide into a work of fiction that was so raw and relatable. Of all the books this year, this one really touched my soul the deepest, made me think the hardest, and has been most difficult to forget — so of course, it fully deserves spot No. 1.

Honorable mentions and books not published in 2020: This Tender Land by William Kent Kreuger, The Space Between Worlds by Macaiah Johnson, Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Three Souls by Janie Chang, Daisy Jones & The Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid, Circe by Madeline Miller, and Dear Edward by Ann Napolitano.

What were your favorite books in 2020? Post a comment or reach out to me via Instagram!

Welcome to my new blog!

I spent hours pouring over what I wanted to write as my first-ever blog post ever — should I list my favorite books of the year? Do an in-depth review of a book I adored? Feature some of my most anticipated TBRs? But as we turn the page on 2020 (pun certainly intended!), I wanted to start with a little bit about me, why reading is so important to my livelihood, and what my 2021 reading goals are looking like.

About me

My name is Ellie, thus, Ellie Turns the Page! Obviously, I’m a huge fan of books and reading of all sorts, but I prefer fiction, including contemporary and literary fiction, fantasy, science fiction, thrillers, mysteries, and occasionally romance or historical fiction. However, I definitely worked hard starting last year to read more nonfiction, including memoirs and essay collections like Here for It by R. Eric Thomas, Untamed by Glennon Doyle, and The Office of Historical Corrections by Danielle Evans.

While this blog is certainly going to be dedicated to reading and all things book-related, I wanted to share some more about me with you all. So here are some non-bookish facts about me:

• I’m a native of Cincinnati, Ohio. I currently live there with my husband, Erik — we met in 2017 at the University of Cincinnati and have been together ever since!
• We have a sweet husky mix named Addie and a Betta fish named Barry. And yes, Addie is named after a literary character 🙂
• Some of my favorite tv shows include The Office, Avatar: The Last Air Bender, and New Girl. But I’m also a total sucker for some trash tv — like The Bachelor franchise!
• If I had to choose between this or that, I’d definitely pick mountains over beach, dogs over cats, chocolate over vanilla, and tea over coffee.
• And my favorite non-reading activity is probably cooking! I’m a vegetarian and love trying out new, meat-free recipes.

My pup Addie with her namesake, Addie LaRue! Photo by Ellie Turns the Page.

Why I love reading

Reading has always been foundational to who I am as a person. As a kid, I was notorious for staying up late to finish whatever book I was on (I’m looking at you, Twilight and The Hunger Games…) — but let’s be real. I still do this nowadays, too! Except it’s usually with a thriller, and it’s because if I don’t finish it I’ll be too scared to sleep.

My real love of books started in high school, however. During my junior year of high school I discovered a book called The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien, thanks to my English teacher, which we read alongside our unit on the Vietnam War. I can truly point to it as the book that revealed to me why stories are so vital — they have the power to make you feel emotions deeply, connect to others, and even keep memories alive. That book lead me to major in English during college, pursue a graduate degree and career in journalism, and now actively engage with other book lovers through my bookstagram and this blog!

My reading goals

While 2020 certainly had its ups and downs, one of the biggest blessings it gave me was time. I was finally not a full-time student, settling into my first job nicely, planning a wedding amidst a pandemic, and quarantining at home. So what better way to fill my time than to commit to reading?

In the isolating moments of the pandemic, I wanted a community to share my love of books with, leading me to starting my Instagram profile @ellieturnsthepage. It started small and was at first simply a record of what I was reading, but slowly and surely it grew into this awesome thing that brings me great joy. It was and still is a passion project to keep me accountable to read, connect with others, give book recommendations, and just savor the joy of reading.

When George Floyd was cruelly killed by cops, America was once again faced with a reckoning — and for me, it was a clear hit on the head about how little I was doing personally to educate myself and stand up for racial inequalities. What could I do to make a difference? I looked at my bookshelf and became fully aware of how white it was. And with a slowly but surely growing following, I realized that starting with my own bookshelf was something I could do. So shortly after, I made a commitment to diversifying my shelf especially when it came to reading Own Voices books by BIPOC writers and those identifying as part of the LGBTQIA+ community.

With 2020 now in hindsight, I used what I learned last year to inform my 2021 reading resolutions. Here’s what I came up with:

• Read 70 books and review all books on Goodreads.
• Aim for 50% of books written by BIPOC and/or LGBTQIA+ identifying authors.
• Start a book blog (check!).
• Read at least one ARC per month.

Last year I went into my goals casually, but this year, I want to continue to shape my reading to focus on both joy (reading a lot but keeping the number low enough that I can truly enjoy each book) and education/awareness (reading and reviewing books by diverse writers to expand my own perspective and show publishing companies that we as a reading community want more representation in our books!). So here’s to starting this blog officially and for another full year of loving books!

Let me know what your 2021 goals are in the comments below, or reach out via Instagram!