Yes, it’s mid-2016, but lately I’ve been doing a lot of reading and have been reading a lot of good stuff but haven’t been able to keep up with sharing them on the blog except for cramming them into my weekly Happy Lists, so I’ve been rethinking what I want my book blog category to be like, and I have this terrible affliction in which I like to start things from the very beginning, which for me is from 2015 when I first started doing the Goodreads Reading Challenges.

Though I love reading book reviews (Stay Bookish) and listening to book reviews (All the Books!), I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m not great at writing book reviews. Sometimes I’ll finish a book and have tons to say and sometimes I won’t. Well, really, the common case is that I’ll finish a book and have a lot of feelings that I’m unable to connect words to. Either way, book reviews are not a sustainable blog category for me, but I can’t let go of it because I’m a quote monger and the category is my treasure chest where I dump all my favourite quotes.

So instead, I’ve decided to do roundups in which I’ll say a little tidbit if I have anything to say, share only my most favouritest quotes (this will be hard), and then save and share the rest of the quotes as book reviews on Goodreads. I’m not sure how often I’ll do these roundups; I couldn’t do them monthly because I don’t read enough for that except for over summer break perhaps. Maybe I’ll do them every five books or every three months. Anyways, without further ado, here’s a roundup of what I read in 2015, and maybe soon-ish there’ll be a follow-up roundup of what I’ve read in 2016 so far.

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The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt (on the blog): This is officially my favourite book. I borrowed a copy from the library to read, but you betcha I’ll be buying a copy of this for myself. The story is a long one, so sit down in a cosy corner and get comfortable. Donna Tartt’s words are so beautiful, and I’m glad I got a whole blog post out for this book already, complete with all my favourite quotes from it, because sticking it in a long post like this wouldn’t do it justice!

• Why did I obsess over people like this? Was it normal to fixate on strangers in this particular vivid, fevered way? I didn’t think so. It was impossible to imagine some random passer-by on the street forming quite such an interest in me.
• The thought of returning to any kind of normal routine seemed disloyal, wrong. It kept being a shock every time I remembered it, a fresh slap: she was gone. Every new event–everything I did for the rest of my life–would only separate us more and more: days she was no longer a part of, an ever-growing distance between us. Every single day for the rest of my life, she would only be further away.
• Later—in the cab, and afterward—I would replay that moment, and marvel that I’d waved and walked away quite so casually. Why hadn’t I grabbed his arm and begged him one last time to get in the car, come on, fuck it Boris, just like skipping school, we’ll be eating breakfast over cornfields when the sun comes up? I knew him well enough to know that if you asked him the right way, at the right moment, he would do almost anything; and in the very act of turning away I knew he would have run after me and hopped in the car laughing if I’d asked one last time. But I didn’t.
• Only sometimes, in unguarded moments, it struck through in such mutinous bursts that I stopped mid-step on the sidewalk, amazed. Somehow the present had shrunk into a smaller and much less interesting place. Maybe it was just I’d sobered up a bit, no longer the chronic waste and splendor of those blazing adolescent drunks, our own little warrior tribe of two rampaging in the desert; maybe this was just how it was when you got older, although it was impossible to imagine Boris (in Warsaw, Karmeywallag, New Guinea, wherever) living a sedate prelude-to-adulthood life such as the one I’d fallen into.
• Who knew it was in my power to make anyone so happy? Or that I could ever be so happy myself?
• And just as music is the space between notes, just as the stars are beautiful because of the space between them, just as the sun strikes raindrops at a certain angle and throws a prism of color across the sky–so the space where I exist, and want to keep existing, and to be quite frank I hope I die in, is exactly this middle distance: where despair struck pure otherness and created something sublime.

Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell (on the blog): When I was younger, I imagined that dating would be two friends in love, something innocent and pure. That’s what Eleanor and Park were for me. This book humoured my childhood idealization of relationships, so reading this novel was a guilty pleasure. It was a quick, light read, though it got a little dark as the story progressed. I’m still not sure how I feel about the ending. Was it happy? Was it sad? Am I happy? Am I sad? I have no idea.

• What were the chances you’d ever meet someone like that? he wondered. Someone you could love forever, someone who would forever love you back? And what did you do when that person was born half a world away? The math seemed impossible. How did his parents get so lucky?
• He finally realized that she was staring at his lap. Not in a gross way. She was looking at his comics – he could see her eyes moving… Park didn’t say anything. He just held his comics open wider and turned the pages more slowly.
• “Can’t you just like a girl who likes you back?” “None of them like me back. I may as well like the one I really want.”
• I think you’re… Beautiful. Breathtaking. Like the person in a Greek myth who makes one of the gods stop caring about being a god.
• Eleanor had never thought about killing herself–ever–but she thought a lot about stopping. Just running until she couldn’t run anymore. Jumping from something so high that she’d never hit the bottom.
• It felt better than anything had ever hurt.

The Best of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (on the blog): I’ve watched many adaptations of Sherlock Holmes (BBC’s Sherlock and the American movies with Robert Downey Jr. amongst my fave), which are responsible for sparking my interest in the original stories. There are so many classics on my TBR that I never seem to get around to, but I was finally able to cross this one off the list. I love the pairing of this old formal English with Sherlock’s frank/sassy character. I found myself attempting to solve mysteries alongside him, jumping to absurd conclusions that were only occasionally right.

• I know, my dear Watson, that you share my love of all that is bizarre and outside the conventions and humdrum routine of everyday life. You have shown your relish for it by the enthusiasm which has prompted you to chronicle, and, if you will excuse my saying so, somewhat to embellish so many of my own little adventures.
• Do you know, Watson, that it is one of the curses of a mind with a turn like mine that I must look at everything with reference to my own special subject. You look at these scattered houses, and you are impressed by their beauty. I look at them, and the only thought which comes to me is a feeling of their isolation, and of the impunity with which crime may be committed there.
• It is one of those cases where the art of the reasoner should be used rather for the sifting of details than for the acquiring of fresh evidence. The tragedy has been so uncommon, so complete and of such personal importance to so many people that we are suffering from a plethora of surmise, conjecture and hypothesis. The difficulty is to detach the framework of fact — of absolute undeniable fact — from the embellishments of theorists and reporters. Then, having established ourselves upon this sound basis, it is our duty to see what inferences may be drawn, and which are the special points upon which the whole mystery turns.
• You know, Watson, I don’t mind confessing to you that I have always had an idea that I would have made a highly efficient criminal.
• I have heard your reasons and regard them as unconvincing and inadequate.

Girl Online by Zoe Sugg (on the blog): I’m subscribed to Zoe on YouTube, so I was curious to check out her book despite it receiving mediocre reviews. I figured it’d be a quick enough, fluffy enough read, and it was. Very predictable. I couldn’t help but see Zoe’s personality in Penny’s character, almost autobiographical but without the rockstar boyfriend.

• But then I wondered if sometimes our friendships are a bit like clothes and when they start feeling uncomfortable it’s not because we’ve done anything wrong. It just means that we’ve outgrown them. I’ve decided that I’m not going to try to squeeze myself into a friendship that hurts me anymore.
• How can you outgrow cake and adventure?
• I smile. For years, I’ve felt insecure about my hair—that it’s too red, too long, too curly. But now I’m starting to think for the first time that it might not be “too” anything at all.
• Every time you post something online you have a choice. You can either make it something that adds to the happiness levels in the world—or you can make it something that takes away.

To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han (on the blog): I’m always for a story with an East Asian protagonist, which is why I was initially interested in it. That and my affinity for handwritten letters. Another quick, fluffy read.

• When someone’s been gone a long time, at first you save up all the things you want to tell them. You try to keep track of everything in your head. But it’s like trying to hold on to a fistful of sand: all the little bits slip out of your hands, and then you’re just clutching air and grit. That’s why you can’t save it all up like that. Because by the time you finally see each other, you’re catching up only on the big things, because it’s too much bother to tell about the little things. But the little things are what make up life.
• She told me to try not to go to college with a boyfriend. She said she didn’t want me to be the girl crying on the phone with her boyfriend and saying no to things instead of yes.
• Ugh, emotions.
• It’s funny how much of childhood is about proximity.
• I hate when people do that—when you ask them to keep something a secret and instead of saying yes or no, they say, “Who would I tell?” Just say yes or no and mean it. Don’t make it conditional.
• Oh, I used to lie all the time as a kid. I didn’t think of it as lying, though. I thought of it as playing make-believe. I told Kitty she was adopted and her real family was in a traveling circus. It’s why she took up gymnastics.

Since You’ve Been Gone by Morgan Matson (on the blog): If you’re into YA, this is the perfect book to read the summer after high school, the summer before college, but also just a perfect summer read in general, complete with a mysterious summer bucket list. This YA novel is a little less fluffy than most; still fluffy but of an enjoyable kind, at least for me.

• I was still a little amazed that this was happening. That this, the thing that had seemed so impossible, so terrifying, so utterly beyond me, was happening. I was having fun. And that I was the one who made it happen.
• There was something about Lissa that made me want to sit up straighter, and made me wish I’d read a newspaper recently.
• Maybe she didn’t do something big. Maybe she just told someone something. Something they’d been needing to hear. I don’t think you have to do something so big to be brave. And it’s the little things that are harder anyway.
• My hair was in tangles, and the wedding makeup I’d worn was half washed off, half smeared under my eyes. But my cheeks were flushed and even though I looked like a mess, I looked happy. I looked like someone who’d had a night, and had a story to tell about it.
• When you move as much as I have, you know how it ends. You promise to stay in touch with people, but it doesn’t work out. It never does. And you forgot about what the friendship used to be like, why you liked that person. And I hated it. And I just didn’t want to do it again. Not with you.
• This felt like the way you get nervous right before something exciting happens—the moment when you’re balanced on the top of the roller coaster, the hush before the surprise party, the second after the diving board but before the water, when you can close your eyes and imagine, for just a second, that you’re flying. The feeling that good things were coming, almost here, any moment now.

The Maze Runner Trilogy by James Dashner (on the blog): I watched the movie for Ki Hong Lee and Dylan O’Brien and then read the book afterward. I wish I had read the book first so that I could solve the mystery of the Maze with them! Anyways, I read the whole series because I wanted to understand the conspiracy behind the experiments, but the finale kind of just trailed off. Nevertheless, I enjoyed reading an adventure series after a streak of lovey-dovey grossness.

• Are they changed because they want to go back to their old life, or is it because they’re so depressed at realizing their old life was no better than what we have now?
• Avoiding other people was his new goal in life.
• As bad as things were, giving up would only make them worse.
• He wanted to know who he was, where he came from. But that desire was tempered by fear of what he might find out about himself. About his role in the very things that had brought him to this point.

Bad Feminist by Roxane Gay (on the blog): Reading these essays, my mind was either going “yessssss” or “woahhhh yeahhhh” the whole time. Roxane Gay put words to my own vague thoughts that I previously could only barely grasp, much less arrange into something as comprehensible or compelling as this. And much more importantly, I realize that I can have flaws and still be a feminist. I am a bad feminist and I accept this about myself.

• In truth, feminism is flawed because it is a movement powered by people and people are inherently flawed. For whatever reason, we hold feminism to an unreasonable standard where the movement must be everything we want and must always make the best choices. When feminism falls short of our expectations, we decide the problem is with feminism rather than with the flawed people who act in the name of the movement.
• We should be able to say, “This is my truth,” and have that truth stand without a hundred clamoring voices shouting, giving the impression that multiple truths cannot coexist.
• I don’t save lives, but I try not to ruin them.
• Nostalgia is powerful. It is natural, human, to long for the past, particularly when we can remember our histories as better than they were.
• Laurie Balbo notes in an article about an Egyptian news anchor choosing to wear the hijab during a newscast, “There’s no difference between forcing women to wear hijab and forcing them to not wear. The ultimate decision must be that of the individual.” Western opinions on the hijab or burkas are rather irrelevant. We don’t get to decide for Muslim women what does or does not oppress them, no matter how highly we think of ourselves.
• We are now dealing with a bizarre new morality where a woman cannot simply say, in one way or another, “I’m on the pill because I like dick.”
• I am a bad feminist. I would rather be a bad feminist than no feminist at all.

Looking for Alaska by John Green (on the blog): With so many quotes from this book floating around Tumblr, I felt like I already read half the book without actually reading any of it. Only joking haha. (Or am I.) Can John Green do no wrong? I was not disappointed. The structure of the book is very interesting too. If you’re interested, the Author’s Note/Interview/(I forget what it was exactly) at the end is very insightful.

• I should have done extraordinary things. I should have sucked the marrow out of life. But on that day, I slept eighteen hours out of a possible twenty-four.
• Kevin dressed preppy, looking like a lawyer-who-enjoys-golfing waiting to happen.
• There comes a time when we realize that our parents cannot save themselves or save us, that everyone who wades through time eventually gets dragged out to sea by the undertow—that, in short, we are all going.
• What the hell is instant? Nothing is instant. Instant rice takes five minutes, instant pudding an hour. I doubt that an instant of blinding pain feels particularly instantaneous.
• You are a nerd, Pudge. But you’re not gonna let a detail like that keep you from drinking.
• There were so many of us who would have to live with things done and things left undone that day. Things that did not go right, things that seemed okay at the time because we could not see the future. If only we could see the endless string of consequences that result from our smallest actions. But we can’t know better until knowing better is useless.
• Those awful things are survivable, because we are as indestructible as we believe ourselves to be. When adults say, “Teenagers think they are invincible” with that sly, stupid smile on their faces, they don’t know how right they are. We need never be hopeless, because we can never be irreparably broken. We think that we are invincible because we are. We cannot be born, and we cannot die. Like all energy, we can only change shapes and sizes and manifestations.

Better Off Friends by Elizabeth Eulberg: I picked up this book because I was binging on YA and had gotten annoyed exhausted by the teenage angst of selfish and self-centered protagonists unhealthily obsessing over each other and blowing things out of proportion, so I thought this story of a platonic love between friends might be a relief from all that. Alas, it was not.

• I understand how people can get caught up in moments like that. How you want to keep reliving one small fraction of time when you felt invincible.
• I’ll never understand why everybody puts so much emphasis on January first. There are three hundred and sixty-four other days in the year that you can make a change.
• Silence fell between us. This was a common occurrence whenever we’re alone. When you’re comfortable with someone, you don’t need to always fill the void with noise. I liked it when we would just be.
• There wasn’t much that scared her. She was the strongest person I’d ever known. And I’m not talking about the kind of strength that’s measured by the number of reps someone can perform. I’m talking about being fearless. About standing up for yourself. About not caring what people think.

The Casual Vacancy by J.K. Rowling: I wonder if it was scary for Rowling to write another book after the success of Harry Potter. I found myself skimming over the political bits (not real-life politics, but politics in the story; it revolves around the empty seat left by Barry on the parish council after all), but overall I quite liked the book. It’s kinda dark, which makes it interesting. It’s very different from Harry Potter, so I wouldn’t recommend this book if that’s what you’re looking for.

• People in Krystal’s mother’s circle died prematurely with such frequency that they might have been involved in some secret war of which the rest of the world knew nothing.
• These familiar objects – his key fob, his phone, his worn old wallet – seemed like pieces of the dead man himself; they might have been his fingers, his lungs.
• Simon had the child’s belief that the rest of the world exists as staging for their personal drama; that destiny hung over him, casting clues and signs in his path, and he could not help feeling that he had been vouchsafed a sign, a celestial wink.
• You must accept the reality of other people. You think that reality is up for negotiation, that we think it’s whatever you say it is. You must accept that we are as real as you are; you must accept that you are not God.
• Even though he had expected to feel this way, the pain was not diminished by anticipation, any more than being hit by a train would be less devastating for seeing it approaching down the track; Colin merely suffered twice: in the expectation and in its realization.
• They laughed because of Howard and Maureen’s duet, and because they had finished two-thirds of the vodka, but mostly they laughed because they laughed, feeding off each other until they could barely stand.

Losing It Series by Cora Carmack: Quick, fluffy YA read.

• I loved that moment before. It was the height of anticipation and hope. It was like diving off a cliff, knowing what would come after was terrifying and beautiful and the point of living. That moment… it was addicting.
• I built walls with smiles and closed myself off with laughs.
• We would never be able to recreate that again. Only the people here tonight would ever know what that show was like. Theatre is once in a lifetime… every time.
• Maybe someday I’d be able to look back and laugh at the ridiculousness of this moment. Maybe someday I’d also get on a subway car that didn’t smell like urine. The future had much to look forward to.
• Crying was for moments of such drastic pain that you had to let it out, had to shed the dead skin on your soul so that you could breathe.

Monument 14 by Emmy Laybourne: Eager to get away from lovey-dovey grossness, I picked up this book for action and adventure. The idea is interesting enough, but essentially it’s just a bunch of kids stuck in a supermarket while havoc wreaks outside, almost separately. May appeal to younger audiences, but not as exciting to me.

• “Ulysses has to go pee,” Max said.
  “How do you know?” Jake asked.
  “He’s my friend. I understand him,” Max answered.

Night School Series by C.J. Daugherty: Still looking for action and adventure, I picked up this series next, also intrigued by its mystery, although the series gets progressively more lovey-dovey, much like how TV shows start off great but end up focusing too much on drama *cough* Grey’s Anatomy. It’s starts off well though, so don’t write off the first few books!

• It would be arrogant to say something doesn’t exist simply because you don’t understand it.
• You’re not crazy. The world is crazy. It’s not our fault. We didn’t make it this way; we just inherited it.
• But every courageous person is also a fool, no? You have to be stupid to jump out of a plane. Or climb a mountain.
• Schools aren’t here for learning. They’re here to torture you until you’re eighteen and then send you out into the world to suffer in a suit for the rest of your life.

The Life List by Lori Nelson Spielman: This book immediately appealed to me, because I could relate to the protagonist, how she had all these childhood goals that were never realized and then written off or forgotten, instead overtaken by the distractions of adult life. Especially since studying at a women’s college, I’ve become more aware and a stronger advocate of female empowerment. Little girls are so full of life, full of strength, but then something happens in the middle and that is lost when she becomes a woman. We need to find that again.

• Where did she go? She went where every little girl with big dreams goes. She grew up. She got real.
• There are no shoulds when it comes to our feelings. They are what they are.
• How can I tell him that I’m looking for something so special, when it happens I won’t have to wonder whether I’ve found it?

Just Like the Movies by Kelly (Fiore) Stultz: Quick, fluffy YA read.

• Between all the pasta, pizza, and junk I’ve been eating lately, I’m lucky I haven’t turned into a carbohydrate.
• I mean, even fairy tales have their ups and downs. Happily ever after just gets sidetracked sometimes.
• I don’t know what I would have done if he said he loved me now. Maybe I would have said that I love me too.

Me Before You by Jojo Moyes: I didn’t know this novel was gonna have a film adaptation until many months after I had finished reading it. I’m excited; Emilia Clarke and Sam Claflin are beautiful people. When I first read this book, I easily fell into it. A few days ago my friend and I were talking about anticipation for the upcoming film because its ads are all over Spotify ?, and she brought to light an interesting article she read about how problematic the book is because of how ableist it is. Definitely something to think about. It reminded me of when Nyle DiMarco was saying on America’s Next Top Model (guilty) how people see him as handicapped and incapable, when really, he can do everything anyone else can do, and the only thing he can’t do is hear.

• Sometimes I wondered if it was a defence mechanism, whether the only way to cope with his life was to pretend it wasn’t him it was happening to.
• I don’t want you to lose weight. The girls at the club – you couldn’t make one decent boob out of all of theirs put together.
• I worked out what would make me happy, and I worked out what I wanted to do, and I trained myself to do the job that would make those two things happen. It is simple. The thing is, it’s also a lot of hard work. And people don’t want to put in a lot of work.

One Day by David Nicholls: The telling of the story over such a time span is very realistic and reminds me of The Goldfinch in that sense. This is perhaps one of my favourite friendship tellings, one of my favourite relationship tellings. The ups and downs are so true to life, so real, so honest, so whatever-synonym-you-want-to-use.

• I suppose the important thing is to make some sort of difference. You know, actually change something. Not the whole entire world. Just the little bit around you.
• Travelling. Avoiding reality more like.
• He wanted to live life in such a way that if a photograph were taken at random, it would be a cool photograph. Things should look right. Fun; there should be a lot of fun and no more sadness than absolutely necessary.
• You’re gorgeous, you old hag, and if I could give you just one gift ever for the rest of your life it would be this. Confidence. It would be the gift of Confidence. Either that or a scented candle.
• You know what I can’t understand? You have all these people telling you all the time how great you are, smart and funny and talented and all that, I mean endlessly, I’ve been telling you for years. So why don’t you believe it? Why do you think people say that stuff, Em? Do you think it’s a conspiracy, people secretly ganging up to be nice about you?
• The trick is to use the uplift of the booze to counteract the downward tumble of the drugs; he is getting drunk to stay sober which when you think about it is actually pretty sensible.

Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell: Fanfic isn’t really my thing, but as a blogger, I appreciate stories in which the online world has a place. Also, I’ll read anything Rainbow Rowell. Attachments and Eleanor & Park are still my favourites though!

• Start as you mean to go on.
• Drinking tequila is more about the journey than the destination…
• So this is what you look like when you’re keeping a giant secret from me–exactly the same as usual.
• “Isn’t it okay to say, ‘This really hurts, so I’m going to stop trying’?”
  “It sets a dangerous precedent.”
  “For avoiding pain?”
  “For avoiding life.”
• Cath liked to worry. It made her feel proactive, even when she was totally helpless.
• Real life was something happening in her peripheral vision.

The Collective by Don Lee: I laughed out loud at how accurate Don Lee portrayed the campus culture of small liberal arts colleges. After reading the book, I immediately recommended my best friend to check out this book because she actually studies at Macalester. Not only did I connect as someone who attends a liberal arts college, but I also connected as an East Asian and as a creative. The only thing I have to say is that the end of the story didn’t feel totally resolved, and I don’t exactly mean in that good cliffhanger sense, but it was still a fantastic read overall.

• I mean, what happened to developing the individual, to encouraging subversion and independence? I thought that’s what this place was all about. Instead, it’s, you know, just the old bourgeois concept of togetherness–i.e., conformity–under the guise of PC liberalism. It’s fucking oppressive, man. It’s downright totalitarian.
• I knew it. You’re a romantic. God, I’m going to have to look after you, Eric, make a special project of you the next four years, because if you take that shit out into the world, that kind of fucking idealism, you’ll get slaughtered. You’ll get creamed. It’ll be the death of you.
• There were no excuses. If you want to write, you write. You find the time. You make the time.
• Art’s not about being didactic. There’s nothing more boring or tedious than that. Art should simply be about what makes us human. Its only obligation, if anything, is to try to break the frozen sea within us.
• We can’t sit around waiting for things to happen. We’ve got to make them happen. Nothing’s going to fall in our laps. That only happens to beautiful white people.
• This was your fatal flaw–you always had a backup plan. You were never willing to risk everything.

Landline by Rainbow Rowell: Read it for Rainbow Rowell! I checked out some book reviews that say that this book isn’t YA, but I still consider it as YA. I guess it’s not as fluffy as your typical YA and the characters are adults, but I think this book is still in the realm of that; even Eleanor & Park is heavier. But if you like Rainbow Rowell and you like YA, you’ll like this fine.

• You shouldn’t have to make anybody like you. You should want to be with somebody who can’t help but like you.
• And I want to be happy. Like, seventy to eighty percent of the time. I want to be actively, thoughtfully happy.
• When Georgie thought about divorce now, she imagined lying side by side with Neal on two operating tables while a team of doctors tried to unthread their vascular systems.
• It’s more like you meet someone, and you fall in love, and you hope that that person is the one–and then at some point, you have to put down your chips. You just have to make a commitment and hope that you’re right.
• I think I can live without you, but it won’t be any kind of life.
• “You seem genuinely happy.”
  “You only see me when I’m with you.”

I’m proud of myself for the number of books I read in 2015, though compared to some other people, especially book bloggers, 28 books is nothing. But this isn’t a competition against other people, and not even a competition against myself. 2015 was the first year I participated in the Goodreads Reading Challenge, and I’m glad to have done it, because it has encouraged me to work independent reading back into my daily routine, despite having a ton of school reading to do too. Reading a math textbook just isn’t the same as reading a good ol’ novel. So I’m proud of myself.

I noticed that sometimes I chose books because I thought they’d be quick and help me advance with my Reading Challenge (*cough*YA*cough*), so although I read 28 books in 2015, I’ve set my 2016 Reading Challenge goal below that to 24, with the strategy being that I be more intentional about the books I choose. I think I have a thing for tragic endings, or at least for complicated endings; stories that are dark and/or heavy and with existential crises thrown in are always a plus.

tl;dr– I will no longer be writing individual book posts and will instead be doing roundups, though none quite as long as this haha; just needed to get the 2015 ones out of the way first. I read 28 books in 2015, so scroll up to see short and sweet “initial reactions” (I’m not even gonna grace them with the title of “book reviews”) with my favourite quotes from each.

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