Thought-full books to start the new year on

If you're looking for inspiration or something.

Hello and welcome to a new year. New year, new you? New year, new… newsletter?

You may notice we’ve had a bit of a revamp here! A schmick new header and logo, by the very talented Steph of Mad Mutt Designs. She lookin’ pro and put together!

I wasn’t going to send out a newsletter at all today, having originally planned on resuming the fortnightly schedule next week. But, it felt weird to sit in silence and next week’s newsletter is already spiralling out of control, lengthwise.

So, here we are… with a few bookish recommendations for the new year.

There’s a certain kind of beauty in the early days of a new year – anything and everything seems possible. That’s a kind of a magic in itself – one we’d all do well to hold on to.

One of the last books I read in 2023 was Julia Baird’s Bright Shining. As I was flipping through the pages, I thought “This really is such a great book to end the year on.”

Baird’s very timely 2020 bestselling memoir Phospherance shone a (bioluminiscent) light on awe and wonder. Her follow-up examines the concept of ‘grace’ – not in a religious sense, although there are certainly crossovers between this concept and faith. It’s more about holding your head high, rather than sinking to bitter lows; cutting others slack, instead of casting the first stone.

There is obviously something really cathartic about ending or beginning the year on a book that is motivating in some way. Whether it’s an ode to the natural world, a prompt for creative pursuits, a helping hand in sorting out your finances, or simply a reminder that it’s often the small things in life that bring the most joy.

If you’re looking to embark on a creative project this year – writing a book, taking up a musical instrument, learning oil painting, whatever – Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic is a good place to start.

Gilbert delivers lessons in how to harness your creativity and be open to living a life that is “driven more strongly by curiosity rather than fear”. There are some moments in the book that remind me why I could never finish Eat, Pray, Love (a rare instance where the film IMO outshines the book it is based on) – she speaks of ideas as conscious beings, whizzing around the world, looking for someone to breathe them into existence (hrmmmmm) and says she overcame the neurosis and fear she suffered as a child, by realising that her “fear was boring”. Not the most solid advice, but thanks anyway.

What I do like about Big Magic is its efforts to encourage artists to take themselves less seriously. As Gilbert writes:

Nobody ever died because I got a bad review in the New York Times. The polar ice caps will not melt any faster or slower because I couldn’t figure out how to write a convincing end to my novel.

Just do the thing! Or perhaps, take the advice of podcaster and author Madeleine Dore – and don’t do the thing. Dore writes about letting go of ‘productivity guilt’ in her book I Didn’t Do The Thing Today. Over the last few years, she’s interviewed hundreds of people regarding how they construct their days, on a quest to find the secret to success.

Her big reveal? Well, ah, there isn’t one. There certainly were a few moments during peak COVID Times™ (are we still in the peak? I don’t know anymore) where it felt like the wool was pulled from over our eyes, leading to the realisation that the world wouldn’t end merely because you didn’t clean the bathroom, go for a run around your neighbourhood, catch up with an acquaintance you weren’t particularly keen on seeing or tackle an icky life admin task.

Turns out that aspirational routines can be damaging, and sometimes you find more success when you let your day unfold as it may, without trying to hack or shape it (I personally advocate for rituals over routines for this exact reason).

There is a joy to be had from approaching life this way. So, let’s ramp up the joy factor and turn our attention to Holly Ringland’s The House That Joy Built. Falling between the genres of memoir and self-help, Ringland writes about being stuck creatively; overcoming fear and doubt and giving yourself permission to get thoroughly stuck into a creative endeavour (with two bestselling books and a TV show under her belt, Ringland’s had a pretty good result).

The author of The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart certainly does have a flowery way with words, but the main takeaway here is simple. Life is finite; seek joy and push yourself to your creative boundaries along the way.

Four thousand weeks. That’s the span of the average human life, if you’re lucky enough to live to your eighties. Broken down in this manner, it don’t really seem all that long. And Oliver Burkeman is not here to encourage you to squeeze the most out of every drop of time you’re allotted. Rather, his bestseller Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals is an encouragement to use the time you do have well – to practise patience, to eschew FOMO for “the joy of missing out”.

The best of these books really do state the obvious, but sometimes we need a gentle reminder. And when is the best time for a little nudge, than at the start of a new year?

Perhaps you are a maker of resolutions and certainly a popular one in this age of cozzie livs, is to spend less. Problem is, you’re still super keen on living the good life. What if it were at all possible to do both? May I point you in the direction of The Art of Frugal Hedonism? This very good book is chock-full of practical tips and advice on how to have a truly excellent life, without perpetually finding yourself in the red.

It’s also a book very worth coming back to from time to time, living in our fun capitalism-ruled society of constant marketing and advertisement bombardment and all.

Tabitha Carvan may claim that This is Not a Book About Benedict Cumberbatch – and indeed, it is more so a book about her right to be obsessed with the British actor, to devote hours to watching his movies and shows, when she could be doing – again – something more productive.

The humourous title belies a deeper concern. It’s no secret that the things that largely girls and women love are often mocked and belittled. Consider the treatment of fans of the Beatles during peak Beatlemania. Or fans of One Direction in 2012. The derision heaped upon Swifites during now times. Ruminate too, upon the gendered approach to how we spend our ‘free’ time (if we’re lucky enough to have any, to begin with).

As Carvan writes:

Men have done a much better job – a phenomenal job, really – of protecting play as part of their lives … I know men who take all-day fishing trips, and half-day bike rides, and overnight excursions to collectors’ fairs.

So perhaps 2024 is the year you make room for a little more play and a little more joy in your life… or unashamedly embrace your greatest obsession, no matter what the haters say.

Back to our usual programming next week – followed by the new bumper edition (for paid subscribers only) at the end of the month.

‘Til then, stay well and well-fed.

-Celine

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