HALF HIS AGE by Jeanette McCurdy

Well, reading this was a wild ride, and this case, I don’t mean that in a good way. The topic (and cover, quite frankly) of Waldo, a high school senior, lusting after her 40-year-old schlubby creative writing teacher (and succeeding) may turn off readers, but those who have read McCurdy’s bestselling memoir, I’m Glad My Mom Died, may be thinking of giving this a try. But here’s the thing: this is one of the most uncomfortable books I have read in a long time. I am not one to shy away from a controversial books and have a strong stomach for crude content (after all I read a pure porn novel in the 8th grade given to me by a classmate), but this has such graphic and disturbing sex scenes that I felt like I had to close my eyes (I can’t imagine getting through them in audio!). For a coming-of-age novel, it’s quite good, and there is some hope Waldo will come to her senses fairly soon, but I felt the author could have dialed down some of the graphic content a few notches and still gotten her point across.

This book is similar to two other novels I read about teacher/student relationships. My Dark Vanessa by Kate Elizabeth Russell is about a male teacher grooming and developing a long-term relationship with a high school student (loosely based on “Lolita”), and Nampa by Alissa Nutting is a novel about a female teacher who has a penchant for 14-year-old boys.

Would I recommend anyone read Half His Age? Well, for some weird reason, I like reading controversial books. Tell me something that should be censored or is creating a sensation, and I’m on it, immediately wanting to see what all the fuss is about. So if you are like me, by all means, read this, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.

My Personal Reading Challenge for 2026

I usually don’t plan on what to read over the year, but after perusing my loaded bookshelves, I plucked out a few that were calling to me and created my own reading challenge. Here is my list.

The Thorn Birds by Colleen McCullough. I read this when it was released in 1977 and decided it was time for a reread since it’s always been one of my favorite romantic sagas.

Cashelmara by Susan Howatch. I don’t know how many times I handled (and caressed) the library copies of this dramatic family saga over the years, and it’s been on my TBR list for years.

Green Darkness by Anya Seton. This is another reread from my long-ago past. I first ran across this back in 1973 when I was hired to work at the West Salem Library. This was one of the first epic time-travel romantic sagas, and I continue to recommend it for those who like the Outlander series.

Valley of the Dolls by Jacqueline Susann. I read this at age 13, which was a bit above my grade level, but I talked the librarian into letting me check it out. I was transfixed. I recently read Gill Paul’s SCANDALOUS WOMEN, a novel about Susann’s journey when writing this, so I decided it was time to do a reread to see if it would still be considered as sordid as I remember.

The Forgotten Garden by Kate Morton. I have read everything by this author except this, and I hear it’s one of her best, so I’ll definitely have a great reading experience.

House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski. This is a dense, odd, and complicated horror novel set in a haunted house. I’ve heard it will blow your mind and make you afraid, very afraid. However, I’m not sure I’m smart enough for this, as one reviewer said, “A love story by a semiotician. Danielewski has a songwriter’s heart as attuned to heartache as he is to Derrida’s theory on the sign.” Okaaaay…

The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny by Kiran Desai. This is on the Booker shortlist and is loved by Ann Patchett, so what can go wrong? I do hear it’s long and fragmented, so we’ll see if I ultimately finish it.

The City of Brass by S. A. Chakraborty (Daevabad Trilogy). I’m not much of a fan of epic fantasy, but I decided to vary out of my lane a bit. This is the series that rose to the top when I queried my fellow librarians for a good, accessible speculative work of fiction.

And last but not least, The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas. Clocking in at over 1200 pages, this has seen a surge in popularity. I need something to replicate the reading experience I had with the Seven Sisters series, so this may fill the bill.

Do you have any reading lists for the coming year?

BOOK TAILS: Baker & Taylor and Me

A week ago, I learned about the closure of book distribution giant Baker & Taylor, and I felt a sense of loss as B&T was a part of my professional life since I started working in the library in 1974.

Have you been curious as to where all of those lovely books come from that grace library (and bookstore) shelves, many appearing on the publication day, or has it even entered your mind to wonder? The answer is that many of them are provided by the giant company Baker & Taylor, which has distribution centers around the U.S. They also provided services that made the lives easier of anyone who did library collection development (I was a fan of Automatically Yours, a service that automatically sent books by popular authors, and title catalogs, which listed major forthcoming books and print runs.)

Book Picker or Blackjack Dealer?

In the late 1970s or early 1980s, my husband and I both worked for the library system and were slated to be laid off should a library levy not pass. One of our options was moving to Reno, Nevada, so we spent a few days there, touring the Baker & Taylor distribution center and casinos. I was thinking I could get a job at B&T, or if that didn’t work out, become a blackjack dealer (no joke). Spoiler: the levy passed, and I didn’t spend the rest of my career as a book order picker or dealing cards in a smoky casino.

“Books. Cats. Life is Good.” — T. S. Eliot

But one of their major claims to fame was Baker and Taylor, two sweet Scottish Fold cats who became their mascots and whose faces graced company promotional materials. It was de rigueur to return from a conference sporting a coveted tote bag (I’m not sure how many I cleaned out of my work area when I retired, but it was a bunch.)

In 1983, the Minden (Nevada) Library acquired a Scottish Fold cat they named Baker after he was found sleeping in Baker & Taylor boxes. They wanted another but couldn’t afford one, so the company agreed to obtain another cat (and if I remember correctly, paid for their care), in return for using them for promotional purposes. In 1990, my husband and I were passing through Minden and stopped to meet the cats, which remains a highlight of my life. Despite our visit interrupting the staff’s workflow, they graciously took me to the back room for a “meet and greet.” If you can’t tell, Baker wasn’t very cool with having his photo taken, but he enjoyed the scritches. The story of the cats is chronicled in the lovely book, The True Tails of Baker & Taylor, by the then-library director, Jan Louch. However, a mutual colleague informed me that parts were not entirely factual, but I didn’t care; I still loved the book.You can find my Goodreads review here.  

So, how will libraries obtain their books after B&T ceases its operation? Most will probably use Ingram’s, another big distribution company, but it’s going to take time to get it all sorted out. So my advice is to please be patient if your library doesn’t get books on the shelves or your hold isn’t filled as quickly as before.

Revisiting HELL HOUSE by Richard Matheson

So this was an interesting read in a couple of different ways. Please forgive my rambling review.

I first read this in the 1970s, during my horror phase (which I guess I’m still in), when I read Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House and Robert Marasco’s Burnt Offerings. I recall being impressed by how frightening this was and how effectively the setting was portrayed. For some reason, I decided to reread it to see if it affected me the same way it did 50 years ago, and here is what’s different — I don’t remember the obvious uncurrent of sexual tensions of the women, and at times, the lewdness of the house’s history. I’m not judging, I’m just surprised I didn’t remember that aspect of the storyline. However, that all being said, it was still very scary (Stephen King said it was, “the scariest haunted house novel ever written.” I’m not sure I agree with our friend Stevie, as I think The Haunting of Hill House was way scarier in its subtlety.) I did feel the anticlimactic ending went on too long.

I followed up by watching the 1973 movie, The Legend of Hell House, and it was reasonably well done, although somewhat condensed; however, the setting was perfect. (Fun fact: my spouse and I saw this at the local drive-in, probably in the mid-1970s. Near the end, the bathrooms were closed due to a sewer problem, and we had to pee so bad we had to leave before the ending, and it wasn’t until last night that I saw finale!)

And here’s one more observation that about drove me bonkers during my recent read. Do you ever read a book and notice a repeated term or description that a good editor should have caught? In this case, the word “hiss” (or hissing or hissed) was used sixteen times according to my Kindle!

Richard Matheson also wrote the time travel love story, Bid Time Return, which was adapted into the romantic movie Somewhere in Time, starring Christopher Reeve and Jayne Seymour. (Loved the book but never saw the movie.)

Anyhoodles, if a reader is looking for a good haunted house story, one can’t go wrong with this book as long as the content isn’t objectionable. However, for the best haunted house story ever written (IMO), you can’t go wrong with The Haunting of Hill House (and the original movie, The Haunting), and the sequel, Elizabeth Hand’s A Haunting on the Hill. For a fun look at horror novels from the 1970s/1980s, get a copy of Grady Hendrix’s Paperbacks from Hell (click on the title for my Goodreads review).

BOOKS ABOUT BOOKS – 1973-2025

Check out my updated header, where I’ve changed the photo to showcase my current collection of BoBs (Books of Books).

Please excuse a bit of self-indulgence as I share my journey of journaling books.

In May 1973, when we moved to Salem, Oregon, I started keeping track of the books I read, using an old steno pad. I quickly graduated to composition notebooks, finally settling on green stone paper notebooks in January 2020, which, while not particularly attractive, house wonderfully smooth writing paper. (I have a thing for smooth writing paper and pens, but that’s a post for another day — bet you can’t wait, eh?). It’s a task I have never regretted, and as soon as I close the cover of a book (or turn off my Kindle), I immediately add the title to the notebook, along with a Goodreads entry. I estimate that I have over 5,000 books noted in this collection of BoBs. It’s great fun to look back over what I’ve read and how my reading tastes have evolved, although upon reflection, they haven’t changed too much (looking at you, gothic novels), except by adding some new genres and topics.

It’s also amusing to see how much my handwriting has changed. Below is a photo of my first page in August 1973, and on the right is my current page. I am always surprised by how much I can remember just by seeing the book title, along with an occasional note about where I was while reading it (I still remember reading Flowers in the Attic on a beach in Lake Tahoe).

If you don’t keep track of your reading, start doing so; you will never regret it, and it’s a valuable tool for refreshing your memory on what you enjoyed over the years.

And taking a page from readers’ advisor extraordinaire, Joyce Saricks, I put them in the fireproof safe when we travel. One can’t be too careful with critical historical records.