Last Book I Loved
-

The Last Book I Loved: Sheila Levine Is Dead and Living In New York
But when my loneliness feels as vast—and capable of drowning me—as the sea, this book about self-destruction comforts me more than any self-help.
-

The Last Book I Loved: Station Eleven
In the distance between me and the story, I can see all the ways I would have to change without technology, because of all the ways technology has already changed me.
-

The Last Book I Loved: After Birth
I wanted what Ari wanted: affirmation that I could be a good mother while making mistakes and having ugly, difficult thoughts.
-

The Last Book I Loved: Solo Faces
Reading Solo Faces, I felt like I was peering into a life Matt and I once longed for, one I never entered completely.
-

The Last Book I Loved: The Way We Weren’t by Jill Talbot
None of us has telepathy, and even the most empathetic of us can’t really experience the world as another person experiences it. So we read essays and memoirs.
-

The Last Book I Loved: Lovers at the Chameleon Club, Paris 1932
What makes a person who they are? Is evil born or made?
-

The Last Book I Loved: Beautiful Ruins
I’d been treated for cancer, left my husband, patched things up, and just as life was veering back towards Normalville, it took a headlong swerve.
-

The Last Book I Loved: Home
I’ve been drawn to Morrison lately because I’ve been thinking about historical and social wakes as I’ve felt the swaying of the ones I’m in.
-

The Last Poems I Loved: John Berryman’s Dream Songs #265 and #279
I have a tendency to read difficult books when my life is difficult.
-

The Last Book I Loved: Heather Has Two Mommies
“Did everyone but her have a daddy?” Why—at age three—would you weep for a parent you didn’t have and had never known? I didn’t buy it.
-

The Last Book I Loved: The Delicacy and Strength of Lace
In letter-writing, we are not really talking, but the words represent the deep-heldness of our communication.
-

The Last Book I Loved: Dear Lil Wayne
During the eight months he was sentenced to Rikers Island, a poet named Lauren Ireland wrote postcards to Lil Wayne. The rapper never responded, but the writer compiled them into a tiny purple book.