March Reading Wrap-up

Four Good Books

My March Bookshelf:

1. Notes To Self, Emily Pine. borrowed paperback

2. Every Day Is To-Day: Essential Writings, Gertrude Stein. sale-table paperback

3. Vanity Fair, William Makepeace Thackeray. audiobook

4. Auntie Mame: An Irreverent Escapade, Patrick Dennis. Libby audiobook

Notes To Self is so quietly powerful. It’s a book written for women, as it details mostly female experiences. However, much in this book would be illuminating to anyone who has experienced the dysfunction of the medical bureaucracy, an addicted loved one, or a family’s disintegration. Pine is an adept storyteller. Her deeply-personal stories, told in first-person, draw her reader in rather than alienate. She explains biological and medical details every young woman ought to know but often don’t—unless, like Pine, they have endured what she has. She describes the complex and layered and contradictory emotions we experience when life is at its most challenging. I share almost none of Pine’s experiences and yet I found her book relatable, poignant, moving. I wanted to know her now, after she’s weathered these storms and learned from them. Technically, this short book is a collection of a few fairly-long essays, but together, they form a narrative thread that is memoiristic. If you are attempting to write personal essays or memoir, or are a woman of any age, I urge you to read this collection. It will knock your socks off! 5 stars.

I’m a tad fascinated by the interwar expats, especially Gertrude Stein, who managed to hold the butterfly-attention of so many creative minds in her salons. My favorite bookstore is Three Lives in Greenwich Village, named after Stein’s debut fiction collection (which I’ve yet to read.) Stein herself referred to her word portraits as her most “essential writings.” Every Day Is To-Day: Essential Writings is a collection of these word portraits, selected by Francesca Wade, who also wrote the preface. She’s a British biographer who published the 2025 biography, Gertrude Stein: An Afterlife.

Imagine a mash up of personal essays and free-verse poetry: odd, curious, strangely mesmerizing. Their rhythm, while often repetitive to the point of monotony, is intriguing and sometimes fun. Stein was surely not focused on storytelling. Meaning is often indiscernible. Her words give the sensation of being spun outward from the center of a tightly wound towel -- when the towel snaps at its full length, you are spun and then wound back up inside it. It is an endless repetition of unwinding and rewinding, spinning outward and then spinning back in. Its dizzying effect is not unpleasant. She plays toys really, with themes of eroticism, desire, and queerness. These are delicate touches. It is not a sexy, racy, or even titillating book. But if you read between the lines (and trust me, you will!) Stein has tucked in double-entendre and sexual innuendo between the sheets. In describing a husband, she overuses the ordinary verb, ‘to come’—striking a surprising and amusing chime.

I will remember very little about these pieces except that I kind of enjoyed them. I would have preferred essays that revealed what Stein observed, thought, wanted, admired as she shifted through her most interesting life. But in the context of Picasso, Braque, and Juan Gris, Stein thought these writings properly expressed her ideas. I’m glad to have read them. My 3 stars reveal that her portraits won’t be my favorite read of 2026, but it is one I liked.

Vanity Fair remains one of literature’s most enduring explorations of class and privilege. The scrappy Becky Sharp does what she must to secure her place in a society she wasn’t born into. She uses her assets and abandons those who no longer serve her needs. It held up and is still one of my favorite 19^th-century British novels. It is a historical fiction novel written and published in 1847, about petty domestic dramas occurring decades earlier, during the Napoleonic Wars of 1803-1815.

On this re-read, an audiobook narrated by John Castle, I felt the humor, but I also felt the pathos. I wavered between sympathy and annoyance toward Becky’s kind friend, Amelia Sedley, who is yet another of those long-suffering Victorian heroines. This is the first time I read Vanity Fair since embarking on my own writing journey. I could hear how joyously Thackeray played with his characters and his story. Like so many Victorian novels, it was serialized and released in 19 monthly installments. One or two installments slightly went off the rails, but despite that, it’s a remarkable book! It fails to rise to the greatness of Dickens’ social commentary or Thomas Hardy’s portrayal of rural hardship, but for biting humor, and snarky wit aimed at high society, it’s incredibly entertaining. Don’t forget to re-read those books you absolutely loved five, ten, or even twenty years ago. This one is a treat! 4.9 stars.

I think it was in 2017. We hosted a movie night in our backyard and screened “Auntie Mame” for about 75 friends. We asked a local juice bar to squeeze several gallons of fresh lime juice so we could serve daiquiris to our guests. I wore a floor length kimono of sorts and carried a candy cigarette in a long holder. So, when I decided to read Auntie Mame: An Irreverent Escapade, I already knew the story. The book had a tough act to follow. I can’t say it is better than the movie, but the novel has more in it—more luscious details, more snark, more misadventures.

Patrick Dennis was the pen name of Edward Everette Tanner III (1921-1976.) Pat was a nickname given to him by his father, which the boy liked and the author kept. He published his many books as Patrick Dennis and many were critically-acclaimed best sellers. He married and had two children, but as a bisexual, Dennis lived a double life. Later, he became a fixture in Greenwich Village.

I listened to Auntie Mame narrated by Christopher Lane. He did a superb job. If you need an escapist read, if you need to laugh at the absurdity of life, if you need a dose of New York chaos, I strongly recommend Auntie Mame. It’s not just a camp romp (although there is plenty of that!) It also offers strong commentaries about snobbism, othering, and progressive, intellectual thought. So very well done and so much fun! 5 stars.

Auntie Mame was my most-enjoyable March read, but I was wowed more by Notes to Self.

I am participating in both the 2026 Read Good Challenge and the 2026 Savidge Prompts. Both of these challenges are available on StoryGraph.

Read Good Challenge for March—Oscar Adapted—read a book that has been turned into an Oscar-nominated film.
My Choice: Auntie Mame: An Irreverent Escapade, Patrick Dennis.

Savidge Prompts for March—BEAST
My Choice: Frankenstein, by Mary W Shelley. I read this in January.

Because St Patrick’s Day falls in March, I try to read an Irish author or a book connected to Ireland. Emelie Pine, who wrote Notes to Self, is an Irish author.

For Women’s History Month, I read Every Day Is To-Day: Essential Writings, by Francesca Wade and Gertrude Stein.

Looking toward Q2—
April is National Poetry Month. Are you reading any poetry collections? If you need an accessible recommendation, I suggest The Art of Drowning, by former Poet-Laureate Billy Collins. Don’t worry, it’s not depressing. April is also Earth Month. Maybe reading a nature poet like Mary Oliver, Robert Frost, Alice Oswald, or Ross Gay could be a fit for both. Certainly the poetry of Seamus Heaney is earthy and peaty, but you’ll need a dictionary nearby. It’s also Indie Author Month. If a friend has handed you their manuscript or a link to their self-published ebook, now is the month to read it. If it’s good, hype it.

I’m going to read a biography or two during April. I love biographies and I’ve missed them.

Happy Reading!