#116 : CAT'S BOOK CLUB / JANUARY 2025

I always read this much when it's dark out.

YOOOOOO. I am so fucking happy to be back writing Cat’s Book Club. Anything, including typing up 14 miniature book reports, is more appealing than working on Cat’s book, which is what I’ve been doing five days a week, four hours minimum a day, for the past two years. A year into to the lonely work, I joined a year-long “baby MFA” course to deepen my material, find accountability and community with other wannabe novelists, and expedite my process. Yesterday, January 29th, was a very important day because I handed in my second draft of a completed 400-page autobiographical novel to my class. I wrote a novel; I wrote it completely sober; it’s not great yet, but it is definitely not bad. The second draft took a lo-nnng time. The third draft should not take nearly that long. Moving through the drafts get quicker and quicker as the book gets better. I told my agent I’d show it to him in fourth draft, so I’m aiming to be there by June. (I have no idea when we’ll try to sell it. My short answer: in the year 2025.)

Speaking of June. My co-host Zina is always nudging me to remind you that there are three spots left on our Greek retreat in Sithonia and Thessalonki. It’s an 18 person trip (the hotel is a huge, casual resort), so if you’re one of the 15 who have signed up already, I’m so excited to meet you. The Greek sun fries your brain so writing workshops are optional and informal (I usually set them over cocktail hour, so you can drink during them), but I’ll be discussing fun stuff like “Glamour As Literary Device” and possibly even be showing you pages from the new book. The energy is low-key; truly lovely people show up on these things and I assure you you will make friends. Click here for more details, or you can just contact Zina directly on Instagram.

Back to books! I snuggled up and read a ton in dark January; I always do. This stack was kind of “off” for me. I’m not gonna say there were actual misses—these are all popular books from very high-quality writers and publishing houses—but I’d say that there were definitely less books in there this month that I really really liked than usual. I’m therefore doing a different ranking system, just for this column. The stars do not reflect the quality of the work; they rate my enjoyment level while reading. (Poor Chekhov getting ranked this way by a trashy geriatric Millennial in 2025, honestly.)

I did love one book though—an easy #1, five-star enjoyment pick to kick off the column. Let’s go!