John Hodgman's Vacationland.
Forget true crime--environmental/science writing is the scariest shit out there.

Citizen Not So Much Reading: 29 January 2018.

I'm so sorry that there is no list of reading news links today. Eye wonkiness in the form of more eye strain* has made an ugly re-appearance, so scrolling through hundreds of links in my Feedly service was not in the cards this past week. I feel like a complete wienie, seeing as how Jenny over there at Reading the End is blogging with a broken neck (no fooling--somebody hit her with a car, is that ridiculous? Feel better soon, Jenny) but there you have it. I am a wienie.

There is, of course, one big (and sad) news story: Ursula Le Guin died last week, at the age of 88. Can you believe I've never read one single solitary book by her? Anyone, please make a suggestion for where I should start. My goal for 2018 is to read a Le Guin, in homage.

Another author who passed on last week was Jack Ketchum, who wrote horror books.

I may have eye strain, but I'm not so strained that I can't say a big WOOHOO! and let you know that I got another article published at The Millions: this one was titled Why I Read True Crime. It's super cheerful, as you might expect. Mr. CR has pretty much completely given up on the idea of me ever bringing home and/or reading a happy book.

Speaking of depressing books, here's a list of the "18 juiciest political books" expected in 2018. Bleah.

If you need more book news, don't forget Neal Wyatt over at Library Journal, sharing all the book news that's fit to print at Book Pulse.

And of course, it's just not a weekly post without your obligatory Neil Gaiman link. Here he is, writing about Ursula Le Guin.

*Yes, yes, I am buying computer glasses and reading glasses; I've had enough of this bullshit. Getting old blows.